#//i can't shake it outta my head

[raifer-vayne]

Raifer laid along the edge of a rooftop, tossing a grenade to the air, catching, then to the air, and repeat.

"So, would you rather eat a baby goat... or a matta baby?"

[bi-writes]

ghost doesn't think he hears you correctly, not at first. there's a ringing that's still in his ears from the bullet he nearly ate earlier. (cw: dubcon, 18+)

"wot?"

"can you please please please--pretend to be my boyfriend--just for one minute--!"

"heyyy, sunshine," a nasty little voice sings. you spin around, cowering by the bar, just as someone a little too drunk and a little too big comes into your space. you scoot away from him, but he's coming closer, leaning over you, and ghost tilts his head to the side as he watches the way you flinch at the stink of his breath.

ghost fits into the space at your back quite easily. your back arches a little as his big hand finds the bend of your waist, and you squeak a little when he forces you back, pressing your ass against his pelvis as he tucks you into his shadow.

"who's this fuckin' nitwit?" ghost mutters, clicking his tongue under his mask. you swallow, blinking up at the man, shrugging as you try and press yourself a little closer against his heat.

"i-i dunno," you whisper, and it's shaky, afraid. "h-he won't stop...following me."

"tha' right?" ghost hums, and you're so afraid of the man in front of you that you don't really register the way ghost's big hand is slipping lower, over the curve of your denim jeans and squeezing the fat of your ass that fills the palm of his hand all too nicely. "ya botherin' 'er?"

the man swallows a little, hiccuping. he stands up straighter, a little more sober, and he just shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer.

"just...she's so pretty, ya know--agh!"

ghost reaches over and grips him by the fat of his neck. he squeezes hard, drawing him closer, would be spitting in his face if he wasn't wearing the balaclava over his head.

"'f i see ya around 'er again, i'll paint the fuckin' walls with y'r teeth, mate, yeah? now get outta my fuckin' sight before i do it just for fun."

when ghost lets him go, he struggles to breathe, holding onto the bar and coughing as he scrambles to put distance between you. you shake a little, turning towards the bar, picking up what you assume is his drink and sipping it slowly to try and calm the nerves. you close your eyes gently, shaking your head.

"thank you," you say softly. "i-i couldn't shake him off, he was following me everywhere, i..." you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling up at him. "that was really nice of you. i'm...sorry if i caused you any trouble."

ghost tilts his head to the side, fitting himself back behind you. he reaches over, putting both arms on either side of you and leaning over one shoulder, breathing hot against your neck.

"wot you mean?" he murmurs, and you blink, not understanding.

"for pretending to..." you laugh a little, looking into his eyes. "just...it was nice of you to do that. to pretend like that, i--"

"dunno wot y'r talkin' about," ghost chuckles, and you seize when he reaches down between you, cupping you between the legs as he palms at your pussy over your jeans. you keen a little, leaning into his touch, nasty brute pressing two fingers against where you're most sensitive and forcing your ass back against him, where he's hard, chubbed up since he first saw you, leaking into his cargos.

"i-i--" your eyes are wide, but you don't pull away, don't push him back--why am i not running? why can't i leave? what's happening to me--

"i wasn't pretending. were you?"

[mintmatcha]

Continuation.

Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.

And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.

He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-

He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.

Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.

Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.

"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.

You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.

"I'm retired."

Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.

"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."

"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."

Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.

"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"

You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.

"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."

Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-

"You twitch like one too."

"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.

"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.

"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.

"Soda water with lime."

"No alcohol?"

"I like to keep my wits about me."

The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.

"You scared the fuck outta him."

"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."

Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."

"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"

He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."

"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."

That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-

"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.

"I do.'

"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."

"It's better if you don't know."

Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-

A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."

"You kill people?" he whispers back.

"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."

It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.

If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.

"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."

"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"

You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."

There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-

So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.

"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.

Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.

[lamb-teaa]

` Little Miracles!

` pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

` tags: fluff! fluff! fluff! late-Christmas fluff! short ficlet. marriage life, your honor. soft husband Sylus.

` teaa's note: laaate but heck at least i finally got this outta my brainrot! mewrry late-Christmas everyone!

You were up to something.

Sylus could immediately sense the moment he arrived home from his usual dealings. The twinkle in your eyes, the beaming giddy smile gracing your lips and the way you were practically bouncing on your feet when you pulled him towards the living room couch.

He raised a brow when he noticed you were hiding something behind your back, an amused smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "Hmm? What is it, sweetie?"

You eagerly placed a small gift box in front of him, your heart racing in anticipation and excitement as you gave his hand a light squeeze. “Christmas present for you.”

Sylus eyes the small sized red box tied with a string of blue ribbon, smiling softly, “Didn’t we agree not to give presents for Christmas? You’re already the best present I have in my life.”

A lovely blush adorned on your cheeks as you playfully booped him on the nose. "Ah my darling, a charmer as always, buuut this gift is something I can't not give you."

"Is that so." Sylus chuckled in amusement, now curious about the content inside the box. But then he noticed something perched upon a tall stand by the wide living room TV.

“..Why is the camera there?”

“It's for a memento.”

“Sweetie, if this is some kind of a prank I’ll-“

“Just open it!”

Sylus shot you an deadpan stare, torn between demanding a direct answer from you or indulge in your little fun. But there was something in your gaze that made him pause, the mixture of hope and worry shone in your eyes before Sylus finally decided to give in as he drifted his attention to the small gift box on his lap.

Slowly and carefully, Sylus pulled off the ribbon. Shaking the box slightly when he realized how light it felt and making sure you didn't put some kind of, well, something inside to spook him or anything - the cautious sight of him earned a slight annoyed eye roll from you despite the smile still present on your lips.

Opening the lid, he found himself looking at a small piece of black and white photo. Confusion etched on his expression when he examined it closer but then froze when he realized what it was.

A sonogram.

With a small handwritten note scribbled beneath the image.

‘You’re going to be a daddy!’

Sylus's head snapped towards you in an instant, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your still flat stomach, his hand slightly trembling as he held the sonogram.

“Are you sure?” His voice came out shaky, his eyes locked into yours as his heart raced with pure elation and hope.

You felt your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Your husband’s reaction was too adorable and you were glad you had the camera set up early to capture this joyful moment. You chuckled and nodded cheerfully, cradling his cheeks into your hands, “Yes Sy, I took three tests this morning before confirming it through checkup with a doctor."

Sylus abruptly stood up, eyes still wide as saucers, “Are you really really sure?”

“I��m positive!”

Your squealed echoed throughout the living room when he picked you up and began spinning you around in his arms, his face buried against your neck, his voice came out in an awed whispered. "You're pregnant.."

Sylus carefully set you back on your two feet, surprising you when he suddenly kneeled down in front of you, his calloused hands holding your waist gently as he nuzzled his face against your stomach, his voice loving and tender as he whispered. "You're pregnant.. With my baby.. Our baby.."

Your heart warmth from the gesture, your fingers threading through his hair as you gently lifted his face up to look at you. An excited and amused giggle escaping your lips as you decided to correct him on something. "Babies actually, darling."

Sylus blinked, puzzled. "Huh?"

You let out another gleeful giggle, before tugging him once more to sit on the couch. Holding the sonogram up close to him as you began pointing to the three small gestational sac on the grainy picture.

"Look closer. There's baby A, baby B-"

Sylus nearly toppled over at your words. "Wait, what?"

"-And baby C!" You finished with a beaming smile, enjoying the shocked and flabbergasted expression on Sylus's face.

It's not often you get to see the big bad leader of Onychinus get caught off guard like this so you were thrilled to witness it yourself by announcing your first pregnancy.

Mission success~!

Sylus was rendered speechless, his mouth slightly agape as he observed the sonogram much longer, now finally noticing the three little bundle and realization hit him in an instant. "You're carrying three...?"

"Triplets, my loveable darling. Yes." You grinned, ruffling his hair to snap him out of his stunned stupor. "Our three little miracles on Christmas day."

Three little miracles.

Three bundle of joy.

Three times the love.

Placing the sonogram aside, he summoned his Evol, the black red mist wrapping around your figure as it very gently levitated you slightly in the air, causing you to let out a small squeak of surprise, before placing you to sit on his lap. His strong arms immediately circled around your waist, his face resting on top of your chest as he let out a soft happy chuckle.

"Thank you." His deep voice whispered in earnest, his hold around you tightened at the thought of you carrying his children, his eyes fluttering close to suppress the tears threatened to spill out. “Thank you for this wonderful gift."

Sylus embraced you tightly, lifting his face to gaze into yours, his eyes full of affection and warmth before capturing your lips in a sweet tender kiss that had you melting in his arms. "I love you, sweetie.”

You smiled against his lips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer, deepening the kiss as both your hearts raced in sync from the overwhelming emotions. “Love you more, Sy.”

Lost in their love and warmth, the camera continued rolling, capturing the heartfelt moments between the two soon-to-be parents on the wonderful winter night.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Officially your bitch || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: basically what happened in s1 ep 2 when Sarah is getting a teddy from the boat with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper watching but obvs slightly different. (you being the one faking being hurt)

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun,

Word count: 977

A/n: canon fics are so fun to write 😫

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board here

"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper lets out a low whistle, staring at a boat nestled in someone's garden bed. "Agatha's a bitch," Rafe mutters. "Damn right, she is," Kelce adds as the three boys gape at the sight.

"I can't get it outta my head. It's on repeat. 'Your move, broski.'" Topper repeats JJ's words from a couple nights ago, when a gun was pointed at his head. "Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed right at you!" Kelce chimes in.

"That's what I'm saying. It's insane!" Topper scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Safety off!" he emphasizes, his voice rising. Kelce shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain. "That pogue," he mutters, his tone dripping with contempt.

Rafe, who had been staring intently at the waterline, snaps back to the conversation. His gaze sharpens as he looks at his friends. "They're freakin' pogues, man," he declares, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and exasperation.

"You know, you should get a piece," Rafe suggests, his voice steady as he looks at Topper. The gravity of his words hangs in the air. "What do you mean?" Topper asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he turns to Rafe.

"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead," Rafe replies matter-of-factly, as if it's the most logical solution in the world. "Better than being caught without one," Kelce shrugs, offering his own brand of nonchalant support. Rafe nods in agreement, his gaze unwavering.

"Listen guys, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine," Topper reassures them. Rafe hums approvingly, patting his friend's back. "Yeah, you should," he affirms with a smirk.

Kelce suddenly taps Rafe's shoulder. "Yo, that's y/n." Rafe and Topper turn their heads in unison, their curiosity piqued. They see you kneeling on one knee, talking gently to Joy, your mum's best friend's little daughter.

"Oh, so you left her in the boat?" you ask softly, your voice filled with understanding. Joy nods, her eyes wide with worry. "Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?" you stand up, smoothing down your shorts. Joy looks up at you, her face serious. "She has a trunk and blue eyes," she replies, her small voice clear.

The three boys watch intently as you smile reassuringly at Joy. "Okay, I'm gonna get her for you," you say, turning towards the boat. "Be careful of the electricity," Joy quietly warns. You smile to yourself, touched by her concern, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you carefully step onto the boat.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. It's really dangerous, so stay there, okay?" you reassure Joy with a confident smile. Rafe, standing a few feet away, removes his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he watches your every move. "What's she doing?" he mutters to no one in particular, his concern evident.

"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it," your brother scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed by your antics. Rafe glances at Topper, eyebrows raised. "Hey! There's 14,000 volts in those wires," Joy's mum calls out urgently from the porch, her voice filled with anxiety.

You take a slow, deliberate step onto the plank, feeling it wobble slightly under your weight. With a mischievous grin, you glance back at the onlookers, enjoying the attention. A quiet shriek escapes your lips as you pretend to lose your balance for a moment.

"Hey, y/n, be careful!" Rafe hollers, his voice louder and more urgent now. He takes a step forward, his body tense with concern. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," your mum mutters as she walks out onto the yard, her face a mask of frustration and fear. "Y/n, get down now!" she shouts, her tone a mix of anger and desperation.

"Mum, calm down. I'm an athlete. I got this," you reply playfully, flashing her a reassuring smile as you continue your careful approach toward the boat. Your confidence does little to ease the tension among the onlookers. The plank creaks under your weight, but you maintain your balance,

"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" your mum screams, her voice trembling with panic. You ignore her, your focus on the gentle sway of the boat as you step onto it. "She just wants attention," Topper mutters, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" your mum persists, her tone growing more frantic. You turn to face her, a playful grin spreading across your face as you shimmy your shoulders, teasingly.

"Oh my—no. When I tell your dad about this, y/n!" Your mum exclaims, her voice a mix of exasperation and genuine fear. "Y/n, that's not fucking funny," Rafe yells in annoyance, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He watches you with a mixture of concern and irritation, unable to shake off the worry that gnaws at him.

"Little fried y/n," Topper comments, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes the scene unfold. Kelce looks at him, puzzled by the comment, but Topper simply shrugs it off. "Top, your sister's crazy, man," Kelce remarks, shaking his head in disbelief as Topper snorts, "Tell me about it."

With a knowing smile, you reach the boat and spot the disconnected wire exactly where you expected it to be. "I see her!" you call out across the yard as you place a steady hand on the boat.

"Y/n!" your mum's voice echoes for what feels like the hundredth time, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern laced in her tone. "When I tell your dad—" Her words are abruptly cut off by your convincing scream as you pretend to slip into the boat. "Fuck—" Rafe's reaction is immediate, his instincts kicking in as he rushes forward.

After a few seconds, you grab the cord, swinging it in front of you with a smile. Kelce breaks out in laughter at your prank, the sound mingling with the collective sighs of everyone watching. Rafe's face fills with relief and annoyance as his tongue pokes agains this inner cheek. "It's disconnected!" you announce with a laugh.

"Holy shit!" Kelce smacks Rafe's shoulder, his eyes wide with amusement as he looks at you, clearly annoyed and unimpressed. "For the love of God," your mum mutters as she slips her sunglasses back on and strides away, clearly needing a moment to recover from the prank.

"She got you good, man," Kelce snickers, unable to hide his laughter at Rafe's bewildered expression. "Absolute suckers!" you crow from the boat, your laughter ringing out triumphantly. "Babe, you should see your face," you giggle, retrieving Joy's teddy bear. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right, guilty," Rafe throws his hands up in mock surrender though his face expression remained annoyed.

As Rafe stands there, still trying to process what just happened, he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, dude. You're officially her bitch," Topper says with a smirk, offering his congratulations in his own unique way. Rafe rolls his eyes at the jest.

"Alright." Topper gives Rafe a hearty pat on the back. "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, alright?" Topper's laughter rings out as he teases Rafe, but Rafe isn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he slaps away Topper's hand. "Shut the fuck up, dude," he grumbles, shaking his head in annoyance before striding over to you.

"See! Just further proved my point, bro!" Topper yells amidst his laughter, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting. Kelce joins in, chuckling at the playful banter unfolding before him.

Rafe reaches you, offering his hand despite his lingering annoyance. You giggle at the exchange, finding his frustration amusing. "Are you fucking crazy?" Rafe spits, his irritation evident, but you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Aww, I love you too, babe," you playfully pout, quickly kissing his lips before turning your attention back to Joy, handing her teddy bear over with a smile. Rafe stands there with a defeated look, unable to stay mad for long.

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

[haetrack]

Haechan hard hours.

Can't get the idea of Haechan being obsessed with tits outta my head. Maybe I'm just going crazy

don’t even get me started on this SERIOUSLY

boob obsessed haechan would not be able to keep his hands to himself. he was already a touchy person, so once you started dating him, he touched you as much as he liked. you noticed he took a particular liking to your chest, hands always teasing you both over and under your shirt. he would even try to touch you secretly in public, making you wear an oversized shirt so he can cup his hands over your boobs.

it’s why you shouldn’t be too surprised when you get a text from him one day of a link to a porn site. another texts follows, him asking if you both could do what was shown in the video. after watching it yourself, there was no way you could say no to him.

which leads you to today, haechan sat right over your chest, practically heaving as he stares down at your tits on display for him. he shakily takes them in his hands, his cheeks turning a pretty pink as he gropes your boobs. he whines when you stare at him teasingly, “you don’t realize how much this is getting to me!”

shrugging, you say, “you were the one who wanted to do this.”

ignoring your teasing, he brings his hips closer to your boobs, freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers. he’s already hard just from the sight of your boobs, his tip leaking precum, begging for your touch. he bites down on his lip as his tip enters the valley of your breasts. he pushes your boobs together, hips canting forward when he feels them wrapped around his cock.

he’s quick to set a pace, sloppy and messy, not realizing just how good it would feel. it doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him in awe, watching him use you to get himself off. he probably already looks fucked out, his own whimpers filling the air as he continues fucking his cock in between your boobs.

he already doesn’t think he’d last long like this, your soft skin against his cock making it hard for him to hold back. your voice begins to call out to him, begging for him to cum. his eyes close, shaking his head as he tries to make the moment last longer. what he doesn’t expect is for your tongue to dart out, licking at his tip.

he cums with a whimper of your name, his cum shooting all over your face. it’s embarrassing for him to cum this fast, but he feels better when he opens his eyes to see you scoop up some of his cum, licking it off your fingers. he isn’t as tired as he though he was, his cock twitching at the sight. you hum, “seeing you like that… i need you, haechan. you’ll help me out, too, right?

haechan is quick to oblige, hands finding purchase on your chest again as he makes his way down to your clothed cunt. he will do anything you ask him to.

[devildomditzy]

“I can’t believe ya”

“I said I was sorry!”, you plead, running after your boyfriend as he angrily stomps away from you, not even feigning a glimpse at you.

“I don’t wanna hear your excuses!”, Mammon exclaims, hurt written clear across his face. “Outta all people, I trusted ya! And look where that got me!”

“Mammon, please listen!”

“No! How could ya!”

“How could ya spill your drink all over the floor of my Demonio!”

You try just so, so very hard to hide your giggles, but how could you? Out of everything you’ve both been through, this is what he decides to get upset about?

“Mammon, it’s not that bad, really”, you try to reason, but the look on his face is getting severely more annoyed by the second, him recognizing your weak attempts at stifling your laughter.

“Not that bad? Not that bad?! Those are luxury carpets! I paid good money to have those installed!”

“And I paid good money for that milkshake…I’m disappointed I dropped it too…” and…

you can’t help it, you make a small honk, just teenie tiny squeak.

“You’re not sorry at all!”, he throws his hands up above his head. “You think this is funny, huh? Sure, it’s real funny, MC. You destroyed your first man’s pristine ride, hilarious!”

And oh Diavolo, he’s really, actually mad isn’t he?

And oh Diavolo, you can’t stop cackling can you?

“I-it’s just a stain Mammon! I’ll clean it! Gosh, you’re so worked up!”

“Clean it?! Or, you’re gonna do more than clean it! You’re gonna make sure my car is spotless, you little heathen!”

“Hey! No fair, I stained your carpet, not ruined your paint job!”

“And if it wasn’t for your butter fingers, my baby would still look just as good as the day I got her!”, he points his finger at you accusingly, crossing his arms after and huffing.

You both garner weird stares from the other residents of the House of Lamentation as you enter still arguing, with Mammon choosing to park outside the front door instead of his garage/loft hybrid. You pay no mind and continue your bickering as you both begin to walk towards his room.

"Ya gonna pay me back double- no, triple! Triple the cost of the cleanin' fee!"

"What! No way! I can't believe you would even suggest...", your voice fades away from the other's earshots the further into the house you get.

They exchange puzzling glances between themselves.

"What do you think that was about? A lover's quarrel?", Asmo asks, an indescribable sparkle in his eyes.

"Don't know, don't care. But, its best to leave them to it", Satan replies with a small shake of his head and a sigh, mumbling under his breath, "Two halves of a whole idiot."

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Suck my candy cane

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 7

Prompt: Candy cane

Rated: T

Tags: Horny disaster Eddie Munson; Mall elf Steve; Steve in tights; Confident Steve; Gareth is a little shit; Flirting; Sexual innuendo

“Okay, I can't take this anymore,” Gareth blurts, rudely interrupting Eddie’s build-up to their next epic battle. “If I have to fight another goblin horde to the soundtrack of that Last Christmas song, I'm gonna smash something for real.”

Jeff and Frank nod in agreement.

Eddie scoffs, slurping at his lukewarm, half-empty milkshake. The visitors of the food court give him disgusted looks.

“Gentlemen, we've been over this. We can't use the drama room while the theater nerds are practicing their play. We won't all fit into mine or Gareth's bedroom, Frank's mom is having his aunts and cousins over for the holidays, and Jeff's parents won't allow our godless heathen game anywhere near their home. So, unfortunately, we must make do.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says. “But the mall? Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with the mall?” Eddie asks, throwing out his hands and almost hitting a plastic Christmas tree.

“It's loud,” says Gareth.

“It's crowded,” says Jeff.

“It's the very embodiment of everything despicable about capitalist America, especially around a commercialized holiday such as this,” says Frank. “Your own words.”

Eddie glares at them.

"Okay, noted,” he says, “But we can't be picky. Think of it as an exercise in holiday spirit. Did not the virgin Mary herself birth our lord and savior in a humble stable?”

“Yeah, because she literally had nowhere to go,” Gareth snaps. “Not because she was ogling Steve Harrington in tights.”

Eddie almost chokes on his shake.

“I have no idea what-”

Jeff cuts him off. “It's okay, just admit it. Spare us the embarrassment.”

Eddie sighs, eyes flitting over to Santa's workshop, where the subject of their discussion is handing out candy canes to excited children. He's wearing the same silly elf costume as all of the other unfortunate souls selling their workforce and their dignity for minimum wages around the mall, complete with the hat, pointed shoes and cheap, green shorts. They ride up as he bends down to talk to the kids, revealing more of his perfectly shaped thighs. Thighs clad in long, skin-tight stockings, red and white like the candy canes in his hand. Eddie wants to lick them. The thighs, not the candy canes. Which is probably weird of him, but he never claimed to be normal.

“Was I that obvious?”

Frank gives him a deadpan stare. “Jeff cheated on several of his rolls and you didn't notice because you were so busy staring- ow, what the fuck?”

Jeff lowers the fist he just punched him with. “Oh, as if you didn't!”

Eddie gasps.

“Betrayal! Seems like we are the only ones left with any respect for the game, Gare- … Where's Gareth?”

Gareth's chair is empty. Jeff and Frank swivel their heads in the direction of Santa's workshop. The very workshop that Gareth is just approaching with brisk steps.

Eddie feels the color drain from his face.

“No,” he croaks. “What is he doing? He isn't- … Gareth, come back!”

Gareth doesn't come back. Instead, he taps Steve on the shoulder, who flinches and turns. Now Eddie can't see his face anymore - just Gareth's obnoxious grin as he starts talking at him. For a few seconds, during which Eddie desperately wishes for super hearing, they stay like this. Then, Gareth lifts a hand and points straight at their table.

Eddie dives for cover under the nearest tree. Fake cardboard presents scatter in his wake.

“Let's get outta here,” Frank mutters, standing and gesturing for Jeff to follow. Eddie gawks after their retreating backs.

“Where are you going? Come back, you cowards, I'm gonna kill you!”

“Pretty sure that's not a good idea, dude,” someone behind him says. “Sounds like it would land you on the Naughty list.”

Eddie dies. Resurrects again. Possibly dies again in the seconds it takes him to turn around. When he finally does, he finds himself face to face with a pair of legs. Absurdly shapely legs clad in red and white striped tights. They're somehow even more perfect up close.

“I'm up here, y’know?”

Eddie forces himself to drag his eyes all the way up, past the damn shorts (Jesus fucking Christ, Munson, whatever you do, don't get stuck staring at his crotch), and to Steve’s face. He's smiling. There's Christmas lights twinkling behind him.

“Hi,” Steve says. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie makes a noise that sounds like “uuoomph”. When he pulls his hair in front of his mouth, he realizes that there's tinsel tangled in his curls.

Steve laughs. For a second, Eddie thinks that the guy's laugh sounds like literal fucking bells, but then he notices the tiny actual bells sewn into his hat and sleeves.

“Here,” he says, holding something out in front of Eddie’s face, who goes slightly cross-eyed. “Your friend said you wanted to … suck my candy cane.”

He holds Eddie’s dumbstruck gaze and winks, slow and deliberate. Gareth is a dead man.

“Uh, thanks I guess,” Eddie mutters, but when he reaches out to take the candy cane, Steve withdraws his hand.

“Unfortunately, those are only for good boys.”

“I am,” Eddie blurts. “I'm so fucking good, man, I promise. Definitely not planning on killing any of my friends or anything. I'm a prime example of good behavior.”

Steve regards his flushed, desperate face and frowns. “I dunno. I'd love to just take your word for it, but I'm under very strict instructions to make sure.”

He tilts his head, like he's pondering their dilemma. Then, just as Eddie is about to snap, he lightens up.

“Here's an idea,” he says, reaching out to pick the tinsel out of Eddie’s hair. His voice tickles the shell of Eddie’s ear. “I'm off in thirty minutes. Why don't you meet me in the parking lot and let me see for myself exactly what a good boy you are?”

Eddie has a feeling that, if he plays his cards right, he may get to suck something way sweeter than candy today.

More holiday drabbles

[taurasiluvr]

OMG PHONE SEX WITH CAITLIN 😣😣💕💕 NEED THAT

#needthat

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. fingering, praise.

"been thinking about you all day, baby." caitlin's words came from your phone, her voice rough with exhaustion.

you smiled at her words as you pulled the phone closer to your ears. "yeah, me too, baby."

she'd been gone for only 3 days but those 3 days felt like an eternity, that was one of the negatives of dating a professional athletes. you wish you could come with her on away-games but unfortunately, you couldn't and had to settle for watching your girlfriend through the screen.

"good," she continued before pausing. "couldn't get you outta my head, sweet girl. everyone is teasing me about how distracted i am, but i don't care. they just don’t get it, how much i miss you."

you felt a warmth spread through you at her words, the longing and love evident in her voice. "miss you too, cait. it’s been so quiet here without you."

there was a comfortable silence as you felt your eyes flutter shut until you heard caitlin's frustrated sigh through the phone. "fuck, need you so bad baby."

you knew exactly what that noise meant, a smirk curving your lips as your stomach twisted in need. "yeah?"

"yeah," caitlin sighed again, you could practically see her expression. "you're my good luck charm, what am i supposed to do without you giving me good luck head before games?" her voice was laced with amusement but you could sense her frustration.

your cheeks flushed at her words, your body responding instantly. "i guess you'll just have to win this one for me," you teased, trying to keep your voice steady.

caitlin groaned, the sound low and throaty. "you know that's not fair, babe. you're making it really hard to focus."

"am i?" you asked innocently, biting your lip to suppress a giggle.

"yeah, you are," she admitted, her voice dropping an octave. "can't stop thinking about how i'm gonna fuck you senseless when i get back,"

you swallowed hard at the seriousness in her voice. "yeah?"

she chuckled. "yeah, princess. gonna fuck you so good, you won't be able to walk straight after."

"caitlin," you breathed, feeling your face flush as you began to toy with the hem of your pajama shorts.

"yeah, baby?" caitlin's voice was full of heat, and you could almost feel her breath against your ear.

you bit your lip, the tension between you palpable even through the phone. "i need you," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

"need you too," she responded, the sound of her shifting on her bed sending shivers down your spine. "fuck, gonna touch yourself for me, sweetheart? can you do that for me?"

your heart raced as you complied, slipping your finger to your underwear, sighing. "yeah," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"good girl," she praised, and you could hear the approval in her voice. "now, touch yourself. imagine it's me, baby."

you let out a shaky breath, your hand moving between your legs, fingers teasing your folds. "caitlin," you moaned softly, your body responding to her words.

"that's it, baby," she encouraged, her voice rough with desire. "tell me how it feels."

"so good," you whispered, your fingers moving in slow circles. "wish it was you."

"me too, princess," caitlin groaned, the sound of her own heavy breathing making your arousal spike. "can't wait to get my hands on you. to feel how wet you are for me."

you whimpered, your movements becoming more urgent as you circled your clit. "'m so wet, cait. thinking about you has me soaked."

"fuck," she growled, the sound almost feral. "want you so bad. keep going, baby. cum for me."

you bit your lip, your body teetering on the edge. "'m close," you gasped, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

"let go, princess," caitlin urged, her voice a husky whisper. "cum for me."

with a cry, you let the waves of pleasure crash over you, your body shaking with the intensity of your release. "oh f-fuck, caitlin," you moaned, riding out the last of your orgasm.

"oh fuck, wish i was there," she murmured, her voice filled with longing. "you sound so beautiful when you come."

"wish you were, too." you whimpered as you heard caitlin's breath hitch, an indicator she was close too. "make me feel so good, baby."

"yeah, keep talking sweetheart." caitlin got out, her voice rough as she sighed.

you took a deep breath, your own voice becoming a seductive whisper. "love the way you touch me, caitlin. the way your hands feel on my body, how you know just what to do to make me cum."

"fuck, yeah," caitlin groaned, the sound of her moving on the bed making your own arousal spike again. "keep going, princess. ’m so close."

"need you so bad," you continued, your words coming out in a breathless rush. "can't wait to feel you inside me, to have you make me cum again and again."

caitlin's breath hitched, her moans growing louder. "god, i can almost feel you, sweetheart. so perfect, so fucking perfect."

"wish i could kiss you right now, run my hands down your body, feel how wet you are for me," you said, your own need building once more as you imagined her there with you.

"oh yeah, fuck," she gasped, her voice filled with urgency. "tell me you want me, princess."

"want you, caitlin. want you so bad. cum for me, baby. please."

with a loud moan, caitlin reached her climax, her breaths coming in ragged gasps through the speaker. "fuck, yes," she cried out, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

you both lay there in the aftermath, the distance between you feeling a little smaller after sharing such an intimate moment. "that was amazing," you whispered, a satisfied smile on your lips.

"it was," Caitlin agreed, her voice softer now, filled with love and exhaustion. "can't wait to be with you again, to really hold you."

"soon, baby," you reassured her, your heart full. "we'll be together soon."

"i love you," she murmured, the sound of her voice like a warm embrace. "so much,"

"i love you too, caitlin," you replied, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "goodnight, baby."

"goodnight, princess," she said, her voice tender and content.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[rottenaero]

Ao3

Part 1

Part 3

Part two to the roommates idea

Whenever the mall ‘burns down’, Eddie is just chilling at home; not doing anything special.

Actually, thats a complete lie. He hadn't seen Steve since he left for his shift the day before, and currently has his band+Wayne scattered in the living room as he paces.

“He may as well be dead, he always calls before staying the night somewhere, and he totally despises that place, so why would he stay after hours?” He comes to a halt infront of Jeff who looks considering. “What?!"

“Maybe, consider, he just forgot to call you." Eddie scoffed, “ ‘Maybe he just forgot’, except you don't know him, Jeff. Steve doesn't forget, tell ‘em Wayne."

Wayne nods from his spot on the lazyboy, “ ‘S true, he'd rather call at 2am than have us worrying.”

Gareth rolls his eyes, “Look Edmund, I get your worried about you boyfriend and all but why did we have to get dragged into this?" He complained, and Eddie began pacing again.

“ Not,my boyfriend, yet, and you’re getting-”

A ringing interrupts him.

The pacing stopped almost as soon as it began, and he darts to the phone. “ Y’hello, it's Eddie talking.” A sharp breath drew from the other end of the line.

“Hey Eds."

Eddie smiled, “Holy shit, Stevie. I thought you died. Wayne and the guys are literally gathered in the living room.” Upon hearing the name, Wayne visibly relaxed, going from hunched over to leaning backwards in seconds.

“Yeah I'm- Well shit not okay but I'm not dead.”In the background there was a noise, barely noticeable but-

“Wait, what? Are those sirens? Are you hurt? What the hell-” Wayne leaned forward again.

“I'm at the mall, there's been, uh, an accident? I don't- they took my keys, I need a ride back home.”

“Who took your keys? Steve you can't just be all ominous and-” The phone line shut off. "Fuck!”

Grant, who hasn't been helpful at all, stood up. "What did he do?”

Eddie groans, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Needs us to pick him up, might be hurt. He's such a- Wayne we're taking my van, you guys coming?”

Turns out the answer is yes.

-

They arrive at the mall five minutes later, mostly because Eddie was driving like a bat outta hell, to every emergency vehicle you can think of, plus thirty more, surrounding the place.

Eddie roles his window down when a cop signals him. “What are you doing over here?"

The metalhead bites his lip, what the hell, “Uh, I'm here to pick up Steve Harrington? He got involved in whatever's happening.”

The cops nods, "Alright, park your vehicle over there, and go get him.”

He does as he's told, a surprising feat showing just how scared he was, because Steve being hurt could mean so many things.

They get out the car, Wayne being the leading man, and head to where the commotion is.

The mall was totally destroyed, a couple kids he didn't know were sitting around, surrounded by their parents, there's a couple teens too, Nancy Wheeler, Johnny Byers, a girl in a sailor costume, and-

Eddie’s heart stopped and he fucking sped forward. “ Holy shit, what the fuck man." Steve looked like hell, understatement of the century but-

His face was bruised and bloody, his hands wrapped in casts, his hair was flat and gross and he was still in his damn sailor costume.

“Hey Munsons, Gareth, Jeff, Grant. It's the whole Scooby gang, or Smurfs, whoever you prefer.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders, and stared him dead in the eye. “ What. The. Fuck. Are you high too?!”

“Just what the hell did you get yourself into. " Wayne said more than asked, shaking his head.

Steve buzzed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and he brought a hand to them and-

God they were split, and bleeding now. He looked back up at the long haired man infront of him, ignoring Wayne's question-not-question.

“Nah, just recovering from being drugged. Hey this is rivveting conversation and shit, but like, I wanna go home and sleep in your bed, man. Or the couch, or the floor.”

He let out a loud laugh, “Fuck I am not picky right now, I'll even take the back of the van.”

“Christ."

-

They don't talk about it, not after Hellfire goes home, not the next morning, not after Steve heals. They just don't, because the news told them all they need to know, that there was a fire. Eddie just assumed when they said he was drugged, that he meant medically.

(He didn't)

[nastybuckybarnes]

Home

Pairing: Ghost X Reader

Summary: Ghost needs to get back to work.

Warnings: Minor Angst, Fluff, language?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: I have no idea what to call this one it's also just a little thing to get us ready for a big thing and then a bigger thing i hope you enjoy! sorry i haven't been super active - i had no wifi at my new place until today and im also still kinda in the process of moving in LOL

~*~

The energy is different when Ghost returns to his quarters at the end of the day. He has a new tension in his shoulders that not even the hot water of the shower can wash away.

It isn't until he joins you in bed that you find out why.

"M'gonna be gone tomorrow."

Those four words have you sitting upright in bed, a frown on your lips.

"Where?"

One of his hands comes up to caress your collarbone, then slides up to cup the side of your neck.

"To the city. We're gettin' closer."

You're not sure what he's getting closer to, but that's the least of your concerns right now.

"I will be alone?"

He shakes his head, "Johnny will be here. He'll take you to lunch 'n whatnot. But this is... how it's gonna be for a bit movin' forward. I won't be able to be around as much."

Your frown deepens.

You don't want to be away from him. Not for any longer than you have to. Especially now that you're on base.

You're not oblivious to the looks you've been getting from the other men here. More than once have you caught the unwanted wandering eye of someone. But every time without fail, your Ghost is able to scare them off. One sharp look toward them and a dark promise in his eye, and the offenders are looking away.

What are you going to do when he's gone?

Your mind flutters to the Corporals who tried to have their way with you, back when you first met Ghost. You've seen each of them around base, but never together and never quite like you did that night.

You'd like to keep it that way.

You can't help but pick at your fingers as you start to think of every bad thing that could possibly happen with him leaving.

"Hey, none of that. Look at me."

You obey, lifting your eyes to his in the dim light.

"Everything'll be okay. Johnny's not gonna let anything happen to you. I trust him with my life, you can too. 'N'm sure the men here know by now not to even think about you the wrong way. If not, m'happy to make an example outta them if I need to."

His free arm wraps around your waist and he tugs you to lie back down on the bed with him, snuggling you close to his body.

"A few more weeks, Mouse. Then I'll bring you home with me. You can forget everything and we'll start a new life together. How's that sound?"

How does that sound?

That sounds like everything you never thought you'd get. Everything you never thought you'd be allowed in life.

"Good." Is all you end up saying.

~*~

'Good' is also the one word you wouldn't use to describe how things are the days Ghost is gone.

The first day is the worst.

Obeying your Ghost's wishes, you accompany Soap to get lunch, sitting in silence as the piercing eyes of the other soldiers drag along your back.

And on the walk back, whispers erupt and more eyes are following you.

Soap -Johnny- isn't as effective at getting them back in their place. Sure, they keep a wide berth, but their eyes don't skitter to the ground the way they do when Simon's mean glare lands on them.

Maybe, you find yourself thinking, it's because Soap isn't all that different from the men around you.

Maybe he's thinking the very same things they are.

Ghost's words ring out in your ears that night as you lie awake.

'Johnny's not gonna let anything happen to you. I trust him with my life, you can too.'

Settling a bit, you decide that maybe you can trust Soap.

The other men, though? They don't get that luxury.

From that moment on, you vow not to leave his quarters again unless directly accompanied by Ghost.

The entire time he's gone, he can't help the odd feeling in his chest.

He's not looking in windows for your drawings or in shadows for your eyes. No, instead he's looking for more hostiles, more targets, more things standing between him and his Mouse. The future between the two of you.

The more people he kills, the faster they advance, the more ground they cover, the closer they are to success.

Success means taking you home. To his home, making it your home, too.

And his teammates aren't oblivious to the new fire beneath him.

He's always been good. A key asset to the team and arguably one of the best at what he does.

But this? This is like nothing they've ever seen before.

More than once, however, have they caught him looking at a piece of paper.

During the lulls, the safer moments when no one is shooting at them, a small piece of paper is in his hands and his eyes are tracing and re-tracing the drawings on it.

And when he gets back to base the following day, he feels excited.

His palms tingle and his stomach twists, and he feels a sense of relief when Soap greets him with a smile.

"How's she been?" He wastes no time on pleasantries, immediately making a b-line to his quarters.

"Haven't seen her much. She's been sayin' she's 'not hungry' since yesterday. She hasn't left since."

Simon's brows pull together as they come to a slow outside of his door.

He gives Soap a nod, watching as the man turns and leaves, then slowly pushes the door open.

"Mouse? You feelin' ok-"

He's cut off by you throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his frame and tugging him forward with such strength that he actually loses his footing for a moment.

His arm instinctively wraps around you as he stumbles, pulling you closer to his body.

He steadies himself then brings his other arm around your waist, hugging you tightly.

Your fingers slide up beneath the back of his balaclava to card through his sweaty hair as you nuzzle your nose into his chest.

He tugs the balaclava off then pulls your head back, dropping his lips to meet yours after far too long.

You sigh softly, melting into the kiss.

"You okay, Mouse?" He asks after a moment, pulling back to look at you closely.

Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him with dreamy eyes, nodding.

"Johnny tells me you haven' left the room. Why?"

His hands slide up until he's cupping your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

You close your eyes and hum softly, sliding your hands under the front of his sweater as you seek out his skin.

"The men... they... they do not trust. They stare... they... they say things... I do not like it. Not without you. They do not look when you are here."

He feels a tinge of anger bubble in his stomach, but he can't really blame them.

Does he understand where they're coming from? Yes. Absolutely. He wouldn't feel comfortable having them on the field with him if they blindly trusted you.

That being said, him trusting you should be enough.

The unspoken claim he has over you should be enough for them to not ask questions. It should be more than enough for them to keep their mouths shut when they see you.

"You just gotta... be around them more. They'll grow to trust you the more they see you."

You huff out a sigh and lean forward to kiss his lips softly once more.

"Don't want to without you."

He smiles against your mouth and slowly walks you back toward the bed, turning at the last minute and falling backward onto it, pulling you with him.

You land on top of him with a soft gasp, giggling wildly when he rolls over and peppers kisses over your face.

"M'gonna go shower, 'n then we're gonna go get dinner, 'n then... m'gonna bring you back here and you can have me all to yourself. How's that sound?"

You nod eagerly, smiling breathlessly when he rises to his feet and heads toward the bathroom.

The rest of the night is easy now that your Ghost is back.

Your meal is a lot more peaceful than the one you shared with Soap, with fewer eyes burning into your back.

And the time after is far better than when you're alone as well.

Soon enough, he's got you in bed, body exhausted and thrumming with the gentle aftershocks of your orgasms.

"I'll be leavin' again tomorrow. Want you to go with Johnny, just be around the men. It'll do ya good. N'then, soon enough, ya won't be doin' anythin' without me. I'll take you home 'n make you my pretty little housewife. Can have a garden or draw or cook, whatever makes you happy."

The words are whispered against the back of your neck.

While his lips brush your skin, his hand flexes against your stomach, pressing firmly against your lower abdomen where the carnal idea of a future with you is making his cock stir.

Your fingers trace over the back of his hand as your lids grow heavy.

"Where is home?" You ask quietly.

His warm chest is pressed against your back, the steady thrum of his heart better than any lullaby.

"Home is wherever you want it to be. S'long as m'with you, we'll make it home."

[aemndxx]

Crybaby!reader being cradled by rafe!! She just needs her daddy, he’s tough but soft at times and he just reassures her, calming her down from her little tantrum 🤍🤍🤍

𝓇.cameron. ┆ lovin' on you.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ won't be able to write much today… goin' shoppin' for my new apartment. 💐 here's a lil' somethin' for the soft girlies . <3

"c'mon baby, stop your cryin'—you're gonna make yourself sick," he sighs softly, cradling you in his lap, keeping a firm pressure around you as he gently rocks you, and you feel so safe in his thick, strong and protective arms, so loved.

"i.. 'm sorry, daddy, jus' can't help it sometimes," you mewl with a cute pout, another stream of fresh tears falling down your cheeks, making you bury your face into the crook of rafe's warm neck, and he sighs again, pressing a gentle, loving kiss to the top of your head, getting a whiff of those feminine hair products that he loves on you, something sweet and vanilla scented, just utterly and perfectly you.

"just needed dad, huh?" rafe chuckles softly, giving his head a slight shake to himself in amusement, and he can still hear you sniffling softly, trying to be quiet and not upset him, which he hates, because he's been trying to work on you and your shyness, always so nervous to upset him in someway, somehow.

it probably has something to do with your daddy issues, rafe thinks, slightly smug and malicious, but that's why he was the man who stepped up—not just as your man, and not just as your boyfriend, but as someone you can always look up to, someone you can go to for guidance, someone who'll be firm with you and punish you if need be.

and it was too easy, becoming that someone you desperately needed as he manipulated his way into your life.

however, rafe wasn't the bad guy—no, he knew you needed him, needed that extra love and attention, always so needy and whiny when you didn't get it, but now that rafe was here, with you, now that he has you under his control, you're the most perfect, docile little angel, all submissive and obedient and so, so sweet it's almost sickening.

"don't worry, dollface," rafe croons sweetly, before gently lifting your face up with two light little love-taps to your jaw, catching your attention as you instantly look and perk up, locking eyes with your handsome boyfriend.

and fuck, rafe thinks you're so pretty when you're crying.

"no more crying, ya' hear me?" rafe commands, though he keeps his voice light and gentle, but still firm, knowing he doesn't truly need to keep you in check, you know his rules already, and you've always been rafe's good girl.

sweetly, almost tenderly, rafe carefully wipes away the flowing tears down your flushed cheeks, already knowing you'll wanna redo your makeup once you see that your mascara and eyeliner had run down and created quite the mess—but again, rafe still thinks you're the prettiest girl in the world.

"sorry again, daddy—jus' love you 'nd missed you," you answer meekly, eyes watery and bloodshot, and your pouty lips swollen slightly from you always anxiously biting them, another bad habit that rafe is trying to work on getting you to stop.

"don't worry 'bout it, baby—daddy's here now, yea?" rafe hums softly, pressing a few soft, loving kisses all over your face, making you giggle sweetly and playfully roll your doe-like, misty eyes, which makes rafe smile.

"how about we put on a film and stay in for the rest of the night, yeah?" rafe offers politely, not minding watching one of your stupid romantic movies if it makes you smile, and get you outta this terrible mood of 'missing him' as you always like to complain.

but again, rafe finds that he doesn't mind his girl missing him, not one bit—in fact, he enjoys that fact a bit too much, but he would never admit it aloud, not even if he had a gun to his head.

"okay!" you chirp happily, already over your little tantrum from minutes ago, snuggling even deeper into rafe's lap as you both get comfortable on his bed, looking for one of your favorite movies to watch.

afterwards, once you decide on the film 'the notebook', rafe can't help but release a small, little grin to himself, because he already knows in just the next ten minutes, you'll be hysterically crying all over again, and he'll have to comfort you as you watch noah and allie's love story.

and if rafe already secretly knew that was the film you were gonna pick, and that 'the notebook' was one of your favorite romance films of all time... well, he didn't mind that too much, either.

[astaroth1357]

"MC, Who's Best in Bed??":

*on an average HoL morning, the MC is trying to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room but there's been nothing but shouting in the House for about an hour now... They’re nearly at their wits end when the seven culprits come marching in the room themselves, glaring at esch other. Before MC can even speak, Asmo takes initiative and slams his hands down onto the table, making their teacup clatter*

Asmo: MC, you have to be the one settle this! Which one of us is best in bed???

*the MC... almost does a spit take*

MC: Excuse me???

Mammon: You heard'em! You outta know by now, so who is it??

*the MC looks at their demons like they've gone mental, but seven pairs of eyes stare back at them expectantly, hell, even determinedly. Seeing that they likely can't weasel out of this, the MC gives in with a sigh*

MC: .... Do you really want to know?

Asmo: Of course!!

Satan: We promise we'll be alright with whoever you choose...

Mammon: But it's gonna be me, right??

Satan: Shut up, Mammon!! 😡

MC: Well... if I have to pick...

MC: It's gotta be Lucifer.

Lucifer: *smiles REAL wide for a guy who's been pretending that this conversation is juvenile and beneath him...*

Lucifer: Well. I think that settles that.

*he walks over and arrogantly kisses the back of MC's hand while his brothers all groan somewhere between irritation and disappointment...*

Mammon: Look what ya did, MC, he's never gonna get over himself now!!

Lucifer: Mammoooon?

Mammon: 😨 Shit!

MC: It is Mammon, actually.

Mammon: Eeh-?? Er, s-SEE I TOLD YA!!

*he tries to act proud, and he is, but it's pretty obvious to everyone that he got caught off guard and is flustered as hell*

Mammon: W-who else could it be but the Great Mammon? Right??? This is why I'm their first!!

*Mammon continues to loudly bluster and gloat as MC gets up from the table, taking their teacup with them*

MC: It sure is~

*they peck him on the cheek, which bluescreens his brain while his brothers scoff in disgust*

Belphie: Geez, at least get a room first guys... 🙄

MC: You won’t believe me, but it's Levi.

*the brother stop, collectively look at each other, and then shake their heads*

All (INCLUDING Levi): We don't believe you.

MC: *shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of tea* What'd I tell ya?

Asmo: MC, you can't be serious...

MC: *looks him dead in the eye* Two. Dicks. Need I say more? Because I can! He can also-mph!!

*a confused MC gets a hand clamped over their mouth by a mortified Levi, who's still puttering around to figure out how he should feel*

Levi: M-MC! Please...!! 😣

Satan: So there ARE some things that better left unknown... Fantastic... 😰🤢

MC: It’s actually you, Satan!

Satan: *blinks* Eh? Oh really...?

*already turning his head towards Lucifer with a BIG shit-eating grin*

Satan: What do you know? Looks like we've heard it, haven't we?

Lucifer: *angerily covering up his frustration behind a stone cold poker face* So we have... Not that it matters.

Satan: Hm. Your face says otherwise. 😏

Lucifer: Don't push your luck....

MC: Asmo. It's Asmo, it's obviously Asmo!!

Asmo: THANK YOU!!

Asmo: Honestly, it's like no one understands my job description here!!

Asmo: I can, will, and do fuck better than all of you! You just have to accept that. 😌

Mammon: Ugh! Give it a rest already... 😮‍💨

MC: You know what? It's Beel.

*the brothers stop and collectively look at their absolute UNIT of a sibling.... then breathe a combined sigh of defeat*

Beel: *flustered pink from embarrassment, but still very happy to hear it* Thank you, MC. 😊

MC: You're welcome, Beel! 🙂

MC: Weirdly enough, it's Belphie...

Belphie: What do you mean, "weirdly?"

MC: I mean, if we were just going based off resumes here, I wouldn't exactly put yours on top.

MC: But you're living proof "work smarter, not harder" are words to live by. Your technique is flawless!

Belphie: .... I'm not sure how to feel about this anymore....

Bonus:

MC: *gives a blank, thousand yard stare into the middle distance*

Mammon: Uhhhm.... MC? Still there?

MC: I just realized something... I'm really am going to Hell...

Levi: Huh? But you're already here...?

MC: *gets up from the chair and starts to jog away urgently* I think I need a priest...

Belphie: What? Why?? Is being here a problem to you??? 🤬

MC: *calls out as they skid past the doorway* It is because I'm fucking an angel!!! 😫

[heich0e]

there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.

you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.

"you up yet?"

it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.

you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.

he's got his coat on.

"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.

touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.

you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."

touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.

"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."

he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.

"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.

"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.

"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"

"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."

he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.

"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.

"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."

he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.

"d'ya want anything?"

you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.

"can you get pickled ginger?"

"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."

"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.

"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."

"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"

touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.

"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."

"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.

outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.

"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"

touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.

"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.

you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.

he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.

there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.

he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.

touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.