#Gold Sunglasses Kids

[lunar-wandering]

today im thinking about the fact that their outfits here are literally perfect for the "when you put on sunglasses, no one can tell what you're looking at" *(stares directly at person's chest)* meme

[oneforthemunny]

november rain |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|

prompt: after your divorce to eddie, you try to get back out there. but sometimes, nothing beats what you already have.

contains: smut minors dni. mom!reader x dad!eddie. divorced. mentions to past angst/ fighting. mentions of teen pregnancy. oral fem receiving, pinv sex. slightly angsty. asshole date, angsty ending. kinda a bittersweet fic. based off this ask <3

You could hear him before you could see him, speakers shaking from the noise in his car, leaving your ears buzzing at the vibrations. The swelling of your heart rose above the annoyance you tried to feign, rolling your eyes and hoping he didn’t see through it. 

“You do realize I live in a subdivision? Neighbors and all?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him before he’d ever climbed out of the car, killing the engine and the music with the pull of his keys. 

“Yeah? They don’t like Judas Priest?” Eddie grinned, dimples deep, and you knew under his shades his eyes were bright and wild- the way they always were when they were teasing you. “I have Metallica too. I think I still have that Blondie tape you like in here too somewhere, if they’d prefer that.” 

Your heart skipped, lips twitching in a faltering snarl that was slowly turning into a blushing soft smile. “You better not play music that loud when my babies are with you.” You huffed, hands moving to rest on your hips, the denim waistband of your jeans hugging you just right in your Levi’s- Eddie’s favorite pair. You knew it, and you didn’t miss the way his tongue ran over his bottom lip. 

“Did you hear me?” You snapped, swallowing a grin. You knew he hadn’t, too distracted. “Eddie, I am serious, you will bust their little ear drums-” 

“-I know, sweetheart. C’mon,” Eddie shook his head, pushing his sunglasses up, pinning his curly bangs with them. “They’re my kids too. ‘M not gonna hurt them, you know that.” The sun caught a flash of gold, gleaming just for a moment off his left hand. 

Eddie was still wearing his wedding band. 

Your stomach sunk at the thought, thumb absentmindedly twisting your bare ring finger. The divorce had been final for months- six, to be exact. You’d stopped wearing yours after the first. It was weird, not wearing the small band and ring you’d worn since high school- since Eddie proposed with shaking hands on your front porch after you found out you were expecting. He’d dropped the ring twice, sweaty and nearly sick with anxiety. Your mother told you that should have been a sign, but you found it endearing then- maybe you did even now. 

“Where’s the rugrats anyway?” Eddie hummed, catching your glass door to hold it for you, letting you slip under his arm. You caught a whiff of his cologne, faint from the day, mixed with a cigarette he tried to mask from earlier. 

“Jude’s playing in the backyard.” You stepped into the small foyer. Eddie had left it to you in the divorce, saying you were the only reason they got it anyways. There was always an eerie feeling that lingered when he came inside, a haunting reminder of a forever that didn’t quite succeed. 

“He’s supposed to be watching Lucy.” You hummed, craning your neck to look out the window in the living room. “They’re hunting for bugs.” Your nose crinkled, leaving Eddie laughing. 

“Bug hunting? Oh, they don’t know their Mama is terrified of bugs, huh?” Eddie teased, peeking out of the window to see the two kids, perfect blends of both of your features packed into two tiny beings. 

“I’m not terrified. Well, of all the bugs.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “Spiders, yes, and I told Jude those were off limits or I was giving Grandpa Wayne back the bug catching kit.” 

“You’re no fun.” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Scared of a little spider?” His fingers tapped playfully in a crawling way up your arm towards your shoulder, leaving you squirming away. 

“Stop.” 

“God, do you remember- what was it? Junior year? When there was a spider on your desk in Geometry?” Eddie laughed, grabbing his side at the memory. “And you shoved all your books off the desk in the middle of class?”  

“Yes, and you and Gareth just laughed at me.” You fought back your own smile at the memory. 

“Yes!” Eddie howled in laughter. “And Mr. Browcheski got so fu-sorry- freaking mad at all of us. Did we- That was when we got detention, right?” 

“Yes,” You glared at him playfully, crossing your arms. “And I was about to have a nervous breakdown thinking about how I was going to tell my parents.” 

“That’s right.” Eddie nodded slowly. “That was your first detention?” 

You nodded. “I was a good girl until I met you, Munson. You’re a bad influence.” 

“Yeah, can’t be all bad though, right?” Eddie held your gaze, stepping close instinctively. Your breathing hitched, his hand gliding over your hip, fingertips ghosting the bare skin above your waist band. “We had some good times too.” 

Your head spun, dizzy with a clouding lapse of judgment. Eddie was pulling you in, hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back, holding you so close you were flush to him. His head was already tilting, ducking towards yours, ready to capture your lips and you’d let him. Of course you’d let him, you’d be lying to say you didn’t miss his kiss- miss him. 

Lucy’s high pitched shrill had you faltering, snapping out of the haze, back into a damning reality. “What- Eddie, we-we can’t.” You took a step back, knees a little weak and wobbly from the adrenaline rush that always came with his affection. “We can’t do this.” 

“Right,” Eddie swallowed, hands shoving in his pockets, cheeks blooming with a pink heat that burned through his body.  “S-Sorry. I just- I got caught up in the moment. Talking about that. I just-” 

“-It’s fine.” You muttered, pulling the back door open, a melody of Jude and Lucy’s giggles floating in. “Guys, someone’s here to see you.” You sing-songed in a happy tune, face lighting with exaggerated excitement. You were good like that, Eddie thought, still playing nice for the kids. Maybe it wasn’t playing, Eddie really hoped it wasn’t, though the rational side of his mind (and his friends) begged to differ. 

“Daddy!” A duo of squeals and shrieks blended with bounding feet up the wooden steps into the house. 

Jude came bounding in first, nearly knocking Eddie over at the knees when his small frame collided with him. “Wo-oah, hey, buddy.” Eddie grinned, tousling the boy’s wild curls, frizzy and matted from playing outside. 

“Hi, Dad.” Jude beamed up at Eddie. He’d gotten Eddie’s lashes but your eyes. “We’re catching bugs.” 

“I heard. Catch any good ones? Any centipedes?” Eddie grinned, bending down to hug the boy. 

“No,” Jude’s face fell slightly in a frown. “But I did catch a ladybug for Lucy!” Jude bounced on his toes with excitement. 

Your heart swelled, trying to wrangle the small girl on your hip, passing her off to Eddie- well, passing was generous, she nearly launched off your hip into his arms. “A lady bug?” Eddie repeated in a babble he still used with Lucy. She was still small, in his eyes, though she was growing every single day, she was still his baby. 

“Did Bubs get you a ladybug, Lucy?” Eddie bounced her on his hips, tickling her sides so she shrieked with laughter. 

“Yeah,” Lucy giggled, leaning back to look at Jude in a limp sort of backbend. “Jude’s gots me a ladybug an-and we found a lot of worms.” She grinned, eyes wide and excited. She got her cadences from Eddie, that was for sure, more exaggerated and dramatic with each passing day. 

“Are you going to hunt bugs with us?” Jude asked, pulling on the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. “Will you? Please?” 

“Yeah, of course, I will.” Eddie smiled, shaking his head softly. “Do you have a spare shovel for me? Can you go find the little red one?” 

Jude looked at you. “I think it’s in the garage with the basketball.” You nodded towards the garage door. Jude ran off, footsteps heavy, Lucy squirming to get down and chase after him. “But- hey! Put everything back where it goes, Jude Wayne! And do not climb on anything!” You called after him, voice teetering on stern. 

“I got it!” Jude called back. 

Eddie’s chest puffed in boasting pride, grinning at the boy. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Hm, wonder who that sounds like?” You said sarcastically, giving Eddie a pointed glare. 

“That’s my boy. What can I say?” Eddie grinned, shrugging lightly. You grinned, shaking your head. “So, uh, where’re you going tonight?” Eddie tried not to sound so awkwardly needy, but it came out exactly like that. 

“Oh,” You could feel your body stiffen, a warm embarrassed heat creeping up your spine. “I, uh, I- Well, I’m going out.” You paused, fiddling with straightening something on a shelf, anything to avoid his gaze. “I…I have a date tonight.” 

Eddie’s heart sank, falling deep into the pit of his stomach. “Oh.” He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. “I, uh, I didn’t know you were… Ya know, um, gettin’ back out there.” 

“Well, I- I mean it wasn’t exactly planned.” Your thumb went back to your ring finger, rubbing the bare skin there. You used to twist your ring when you were feeling anxious, a soothing mechanism. 

“Lydia at work set me up on a blind date with her cousin. The-The accountant guy.” You cringed at your words, spouting in a word vomit that you couldn’t seem to stop. Your heart was racing, stuttering to a halt and rearing back with every fall of Eddie’s face. 

“I-I mean, I just… She’d been asking me since-since,” Since the divorce, the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. “A-And I figured why not. I mean…” You waved your hand between the two of you, the tension uncomfortable and thick. 

“No, no, yeah,” Eddie nodded, swallowing back a burn of emotions he tried to conceal. “No, that’s- you should. Not that- I mean, you don’t need me to tell you that, but,” Eddie took a breath, finally meeting your nervous gaze. “You’ll have a good time.” 

“Yeah?” You squeaked, wringing your hands anxiously. Eddie had flashbacks to years before, when you two were a lot younger, your nervous demeanor asking for his reassurance before sneaking onto the football field at midnight. 

Eddie’s heart ached at the memory, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, he’s lucky to get to go out with you. You’re… You’re the best, you know that.” Eddie reassured you now just like he did then, just like he always did. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, turning just as Jude and Lucy came back in, triumphantly waving the red, plastic shovel. “I, um, I’m going to get ready. There’s a frozen pizza in the freezer. I’ll preheat the oven, if you can just stick it in.” 

“I got it.” Eddie waved you off, forcing a reassuring smile. “You go get ready. Have fun, sweetheart.” His smile was warm, leaving you burning in excitement. Still, when he left, you were filled with a sinking, nauseating feeling of dread, nerves. 

Heidi would tell you that you were co-dependent, that Eddie had made you that way. She never liked him, not in highschool, especially not after the divorce. She was always reminding you that you could do better, that you should do better. 

That always sparked a fight, one of the many that you and Eddie had over and over and over. His accusatory tongue lashing accusations at you, your defenses climbing higher and higher, both too stubborn to let it go. You were reminded of the fight that did it- that caused the divorce. Days- no, weeks of back and forth. 

“You know, there’s times I wish I would have skipped school that day!” Eddie roared, voice hoarse and scratchy from the screaming match you two had been having. “I was supposed to skip with Gareth, but I fucking went, and you know what? I wish I wouldn’t have! Then we would have never gotten paired up and I wouldn’t be dragged into all this shit with you! I wouldn’t be so miserable all the goddamn time!” 

His words rang in your head, stinging just as much then as they did now. You took a breath, that haunting memory was the final push you needed to step into the shower, to get ready, and to try and start something new without Eddie. 

“So, Lydia tells me you have a kid.” Matthew asked, swirling his wine around in his glass. 

The restaurant was obnoxiously expensive, much more stuffy than what you expected on the first date. You felt terribly underdressed, in a sundress you hadn’t worn in years, fitting a little tighter now since Lucy. Note to self, go dress shopping next time. 

“Yeah, I do,” You smiled politely, the tension still a little uncomfortable, unfamiliar. “Jude and Lucy.” 

“Oh,” Matthew’s brows raised, tone clipping in shock. “Two?” 

“Yeah,” You swallowed back that familiar burning in your chest, the one that always came with judgment. Raised brows and pointed glares, being pregnant in highschool, you thought you’d be used to it by now. 

“Uh, how-how old are they?” Matthew asked, fingers tapping nervously on the table. So much tension, and you hadn’t even gotten your food yet. 

“Jude is seven, and Lucy just turned four.” You felt your chest boast with pride. Talking about your kids, that could soothe you, it always did. 

“Wow,” You weren’t sure how Matthew’s brows could go any higher, but somehow they did. “That’s… I’m sorry, you just, you look really young to have kids that age.” 

“I am,” You shrugged sheepishly. “I, um, I had Jude in high school. My senior year.” You tried not to flinch, to steel yourself for the inevitable look- the one that always gave you. 

“High school?” Matthew’s tone skittered on a scoff, leaving you burning with embarrassment- with shame. Why’re you embarrassed about it? Best thing that ever happened to me, Eddie would always say, scoffing nonchalantly when you were younger and  someone gave you a snarling glace in the supermarket, two teens pushing a baby around in a shopping cart. 

“Yeah,” You looked down at your hands under the table. This was what you dreaded, the ‘getting back out there’ phase. You had forgotten how utterly painful it was, worse now than when you were a teen. 

“My ex-husband and I got married out of high school.” You continued, trying to break up the uncomfortable silence. “After- Well, before we had Jude, but after I found out I was pregnant.” 

“Oh,” Matthew didn’t look at you, looking anywhere but you really. “That’s why you divorced then? Makes sense.” 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “No, no, that’s- that’s not why.” It wasn’t entirely true, at least, part of the reason but not the whole reason. 

“It’s not?” Matthew raises a brow, scoffing with unimpression before downing the rest of his wine. “Look, I’m not trying to offend you, but I’m not dumb. Pregnant in high school, married the baby daddy because it was the right thing to do, right? And then what? Had another when things got rough to try and save the marriage?” 

Your heart dropped, frozen in mortification, fear maybe, in your seat. “I’m right, aren’t I? I mean, it’s a tale as old as time, Sugar.” Your cheeks burned at the nickname. That wasn’t your nickname, not what Eddie called you, and even if he did- it never sounded condescending and mean like it did when it came from Matthew. 

“No shame in it, just own up to it.” Matthew scoffed, leaning back in his seat. You felt small sitting across from him, his lips pursed, rolling over your frame with such judgment it made your stomach turn. “Lying on the first date doesn’t seem like the best option.” 

“Excuse me,” You swallowed, grabbing your purse with shaky, sweaty palms. “I have to go to the restroom.” You didn’t wait for his response, the sinking feeling in your stomach only worsening with every step towards the door. 

The Hideout was only a block away, still standing strong on the outskirts of the newly renovated downtown. You were surprised it hadn’t conformed to the trendy chic wave that was hitting everywhere, but selfishly you were glad it stayed the same. The wooden booths and dollar drafts, just the same as they’d always been. 

The corner booth in the back caught your eye, occupied by a young couple- barely legal looking. Probably snuck in here with a fake, buzzing with adrenaline and the thrill that they might be caught, sharing a pitcher. That was you and Eddie, not too long ago. He’d snuck you in on your third or fourth date. You’d never been so nervous, never felt so alive at the same time. A goody-two-shoes, Eddie called you with a sweet grin, sliding you a beer across the table and slipping in next to you in that booth. 

Your heart ached at the memory, chest heavy with emotion. Why couldn’t he have just been better? Why couldn’t you just have been better? Why couldn’t both of you be better to each other, for each other? 

The heavy weight of regret settled on your chest, mixing with the draining heaviness of the night. You looked at the phone on the wall, digging in your purse for quarters. You couldn’t call Lydia, not after you’d stood up her fix up, left him in the restaurant. Robin was undoubtedly not home on a Friday night. 

Sighing, you cradled the phone to your ear, slipping the quarters in the slot, finger jamming the numbers. The line trilled once, twice, your fingers tapping on your crossed arm. By the third ring, you were ready to hang up, give up and call your sister. 

“Munson residence,” Eddie’s voice was soft, still with that lilt of playfulness that made your heart swoon. He’d been so excited when you two got the house, when you got your own landline. He’d answered the phone all posh and silly, claiming you two were “high society” now, moving up in the world. 

“Eddie,” Your breath shook, chest rattling when you heard his voice, a soothing force after the stress of the night. “It’s me.” 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie snapped on the other end, not missing a beat. “What happened? You alright?” 

“I’m… I’m at The Hideout.” You cupped your hand over the phone’s end, trying to muffle the loud music. “I just- Can you come get me?” 

“I’m on my way.” Eddie didn’t miss a beat. 

“Thank you,” You sighed in relief. “But, hey, don’t bring the kids. Please? I told them I was going out with Rob for a night out, and they’ll want to see her.” 

“I won’t, sweetheart. They’re asleep anyways.” Eddie muttered. You could hear his keys rattling in the background. “Let me call Wheeler and see if he can pop over to watch them. I think he’s home for the summer. Gimme a few and I’ll be right there.” 

“Thank you.” You whispered, nose burning with tears you couldn’t shed- you wouldn’t shed. Not again. 

“C’mon, not a problem.” Eddie waved you off gently. “Hang tight, baby. Be there soon.” 

You waited until you heard the dial line to hang up. Your heart sunk and fluttered at the same time, head reeling with a tornado of emotions that left you dizzy. Sinking onto an open stool at the end of the bar, you ordered a beer, the same one Eddie had ordered you years before. You didn’t care much for the taste now, your palette had grown and expanded since you were fifteen. But something tonight had you craving it, maybe craving the memory, the feeling that came with the first time you drank it. Chasing down a nostalgia that you didn’t want tainted. 

Eddie was there before you could finish your second beer, only a few sips in. He slid into the chair beside you, hand gliding over your shoulder in greeting. He started to lean in, lips moving to brush your cheek, but he stopped himself before he could, waving down the bartender instead. 

“So,” Eddie tapped the sticky wood top of the bar. “Bad date?” 

“The worst.” You muttered, taking another swig of your beer. “Guy was a total ass.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie’s jaw ground tight, flexing with protective anger. “You want me to kill him?” 

You snorted, lips curling in a small grin. “No, he’s not worth that.” You hummed, propping your head in your hand. “He was just an asshole. A total fucking asshole.” 

“What’d he say?” Eddie bit, hands buzzing, though he tried to play it cool. 

“Oh, the usual- teen mom, divorced, so clearly I’m the biggest loser in the world.” You muttered, lip jutting in a pout, looking down at the ring of condensation left behind by your beer. 

“He said that?” Eddie snapped, eyes widening in a crazed way you hadn’t seen in a while. “Fucking piece of shit, I’ll beat the dogwalking shit out of him-” 

“-No, he didn’t. He didn’t say it like that.” You shook your head, placing a calming hand on his arm. “It was implied. He was… He was just not nice, and I felt like it was getting worse, so I left. Came here instead.” 

Eddie nodded, the tension between the two of you a little uncomfortable. The bartender slid him his own beer, saving the two of you from the awkward silence. Eddie took his beer, tilting it toward you with a soft smile. 

“That guys a fucking idiot. Doesn’t know what he’s missed out on.” Eddie’s lips were tight in a pain-filled smile he tried to force, but his eyes gave him aways. They always gave him away. 

“Thanks.” You muttered, cheeks burning with a tingling heat. “How were the kids tonight?” 

“Good.” Eddie nodded, swallowing his drink. “Jude found a centipede. Lucy was not a fan.”

You grinned. “I don’t blame her. You didn’t let him bring it in?” 

“No. C’mon,” Eddie scoffed lightly. “No, I made him leave it outside. He wanted to keep it in his bug catcher, but I told him if it was meant to be his, it would stay. So he put it back in the grass.” 

“Good. I’ll come looking for you if I see a centipede in the house.” You glared at him playfully. “Did you give them a bath?” 

“Dinner, bath, even read them a story.” Eddie smirked at you. “I can be a good dad, sometimes, ya know. Not a total deadbeat all the time.” He teased, shoulder bumping with yours. 

Your stomach twisted. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” You muttered, looking back at your beer. 

“I was kidding.” Eddie said, setting his beer down. “Hey, I was just kidding. I know you’re just looking out for the munchkins, Mama.” 

You swooned under his cooing praise, heart swelling with adoration. “I didn’t- I would never say you’re a bad dad. You’re not a bad dad, Eddie.” You met his gaze. “You’re the best dad to them.” 

Eddie’s cheeks pinkened under your praise, chin ducking with a blush. “Thank you,” He whispered, fingers tapping the bar top. “Just a shitty husband then?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly. “No,” You clicked your tongue playfully. “Not a shitty husband. Not all the time anyways.”

Eddie grinned, dimples deep, eyes brightening. “You had your good moments.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie hummed, leaning in towards you. “Like when?” 

You’re body burned, electric tingles shooting to your core. The look in his eyes, squinting just barely, lips pursing, tongue rolling over his teeth- a look you were all too familiar with. You knew better, knew so much better than to let him sway you, to give into your urges. 

“Hm, I can think of a few times.” You purred, leaning in closer to him, lashes batting sweetly. “Maybe you could remind me?” 

Eddie’s wide grin stood the test of time. The same wild, excited grin he’d give you years ago hadn’t changed, it still left you spinning, abandoning your better judgment, following him with blinders into anything. 

“Christ, I fuckin’ missed you.” Eddie moaned, breathy and quiet, lips pressing to yours in fever. 

You shuddered under his touch, his fingers circling your clit perfectly, expertly- he was, after all, been with you for so long, he knew exactly how you wanted it. The house was quiet, the drone of the TV on for background noise, hoping the kids wouldn’t wake up. 

“Eddie,” You whispered, eyes rolling back, clawing his shoulder at a particularly perfect rub that had you seeing stars. “Fuck, that felt good.” 

“Yeah? Feels good. I can always make you feel good, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, wet smooches trailing down your neck, down your collarbones. “Want me to make you feel better? Keep you feelin’ good? Lemme make you feel good.” 

His hands moved, pushing down your dress. Eddie looked, trying to will his mind silent at the sight of your matching, lacy set. It drove Eddie to his knees to see you in it, but his heart dropped knowing you hadn’t picked it to wear it for him. 

He shoved the lacy panties down, letting them pool at your ankles, hands sinking on your hips. You wiggled, stilling your hips to keep them from bucking when Eddie kissed your mound, teasing kisses all the way down to your slit. 

“Spread your legs f’me.” Eddie’s breath ghosted over your skin, a half grin spreading across his features when you kicked your legs open, arching forward for him. 

Eddie’s tongue ran teasingly over your left lip, your right, before licking a long stripe right through your wet folds. In the past, he would have teased you, toyed with you until you whined and begged for him to fuck you. Back when he used to have you whenever he wanted, he’d lived for that, but now, he didn’t have that luxury. He had to make the most of his time now, at your call, at your service. 

You bit your fist, trying to swallow back a moan that threatened to tear out of your throat. Your vibrator, tucked away in your sock drawer, could never replace this- replace him. His touch, the rush of endorphins that came from the pleasure he gave you, always eager to please. 

Finger raking through his curls, you tugged him further and further into you, hips grinding on his face. “Th-That’s it. That feels good.” You whispered. 

Eddie moaned, sending waves of vibrations to your core, knees buckling under the feeling. Your breath caught, head tipping back to silence the moans, ripples of pleasure crashing over you. 

“Okay, okay, stop.” You panted, pushing on the top of his head, trying to writhe out of his touch. 

Eddie’s face fell in hurt, in fear, scanning your features. He knew it was coming, the inevitable that you’d change your mind, tell him you couldn’t do this. “I-I need you.” His heart leapt at your words. “I just need you right now, please.” 

It felt like a dream, having you wrapped around him in every way. Buried inside you, Eddie tried to savor the feeling, really feel you in case this was the last time. Your legs tight around his hips, arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you as he fucked you into the mattress- into the bed that you both shared for so many years. 

Your nails clawed down his back, biting at his shoulder to keep yourself quiet, toes curling in pleasure. Eddie’s hand slid between the two of you, circling your clit as he approached his own orgasm. He knew you were close, knew everything about you. 

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. The best, the fuckin’ best, baby.” Eddie whispered, breath hot over your ear, nipping at your ear lobe. Your body shuddered, hips bucking with pleasure. 

“Fuckin’ missed you. Missed you- ah.” Eddie whined, nearly cumming when your teeth bit his shoulder, the spark of pain making his slops get sloppier and sloppier. 

Eddie’s lips moved to yours, biting your bottom lip, sucking on it while his fingers slid over your clit until you were shaking, flooding over his length. Your grip loosened, melting into the mattress as he finished, drilling into you. 

“Fuck, feel so good. Fuckin’ love the way you feel.” Eddie looked down at you, eyes glassy and dazed from your own orgasm, lips bitten from him. 

A final pump, a final grunt, and he was spilling inside you, hips still slowly rolling inside you, dropping his face into your neck. You held him tight, muffling his moans into your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Eddie rambled, chest to chest, heaving and clinging to the other. 

A feeling settled around the two of you after you broke apart, laying side by side under the sheets, the house still, quiet, filled with a tension you couldn’t quite figure out. 

“I’m sorry you had a shitty date.” Eddie muttered, voice a little raspy. 

“‘S alright.” You sighed, stretching under the sheets. “Ended pretty good, all things considered.” 

“Yeah it did.” Eddie grinned softly. “Missed you.” 

Your heart ached, sinking in your chest. “I-I think you just missed having sex.” 

“No,” Eddie said firmly, shaking his head. “No, I-I missed you. I missed this, us.” He rolled over, turning towards you. 

“Eddie-” 

“-No, I just- I’m sorry, and I know I was a dick, and I-I did some things, but, baby, we’re good. We’re so good together.” Eddie whispered, reaching for you. “We’re meant to be together. You know we are. It’s always been us, it’s always supposed to be us.” 

“We’re not good together.” You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “We’re not good for each other.” 

“Don’t say that.” Eddie’s eyes shined with hurt, shaking his head. “How-How can you say that-” 

“-Because, we’re good now. Right now, but… but then it’ll be just like it was, and we’ll be right back to fighting.” You pressed your palms to your eyes, chest tightening with the post orgasm clarity, the realization of your mistake. You’d never learn your lesson, no matter how many times you’d go through this. 

“Baby, we could go back to counseling. I just- We should try. I want to try, I want to be a family again. I want to be better this time. I promise I’ll be better this time, please.” Eddie reached for your hand, pulling them off your eyes. “Please, sweetheart, one more chance? I won’t… I won’t fuck it up.” 

You squeezed his hand, body aching, yearning to lean into him. To agree, to nod and let him love on you, love you. To give him another chance, to see him wake up in the bed next to you, back in the house with the kids all the time. 

But you couldn’t. 

For them. Jude and Lucy had a hard enough time with the divorce, understanding why you two were separating. How did you explain to kids that mommy and daddy were like the weather; good some days, disastrous the other? 

“I-I can’t, Eddie.” You whispered, looking at him with eyes shining. “Jude and Lucy…That’s not- This isn’t good for them.” Your breath shuttered, heart breaking in your chest. 

Eddie’s own heart was breaking, you could see it on his face. “I just need time. I don’t know.” You admitted, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “But now, I just can’t now.” 

Eddie nodded, swallowing around his own heart breaking. “Alright,” He nodded. “Whatever you decide, I’ll… I’ll always support you. I’ll always love you, too. No matter what.” 

Your lip wobbled, squeezing his hand tight in yours. “Thank you.” You whispered. “I just need some time, Eddie.” 

“I’ve got time. I’ll wait.” Eddie nodded, pressing a kiss to your knuckles gently. “Always here for you.” He pulled you close to him, arms wrapped around your frame, squeezing you tight to his chest. 

For a moment, you relaxed, let yourself feel at peace as he held you. Allowed yourself that selfishness in the still of the night. You’d stay like that for a while, until you sent him to the couch. “Things are confusing as it is for them. They don’t need to get their hopes up if they see us in the bed together.” And Eddie would do it, of course he would. He’d do it for you, for them, for the hope that he might one day get his family back to normal. Back to the way it should be. 

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[xshadowdelta]

Refresh

Natty x Male Reader x Soyeon (3.8K Length)

Tags: Rough sex, anal, titfucking, blowjob, facial, choking, nipple play, creampie, dirty talk

You were lying on the sofa of your apartment, overwhelmed, jaded, and abhorred due to the suffocating heat. According to the weather girl on the news, you were experiencing one of the worst heat waves in history, and she wasn’t wrong. The fan wasn’t nearly enough to combat this sunny attack on your person.

You zapped through the different TV channels searching for something to distract your mind, if you didn’t think about the heat it would disappear for sure, delusional.

You found out that on one of the channels they were playing the Olympic Games, which was definitely a good distraction. You kept watching the sports for a while, at that precise moment of the day, the swimming competition was taking place.

Within a couple of hours, the day’s competition had ended with Katie Ledecky winning, what? her 20th gold medal? That woman is the goat of swimming, was your thought.

However, that made a bulb light appear above your head, giving you an interesting idea. Maybe going out and spending some time in the public pool, soaking to cover yourself from the heat, could make you enjoy this day. You didn’t think twice and in just minutes, you had everything ready with your pool bag, towel and swimsuit.

You took your car and drove to the pool area, and as you first guessed, there were a lot of other people affected by this infernal heat.

You managed to visualize a free spot in the grassy zone, and although there wasn’t much shade, it was the best you had found, so you placed your pool bag and towel on it, smeared some sunscreen on your arms and shoulders, and walked towards the pool.

The freshness sensation when your body came in contact with the water was simply unbeatable, you were sure you could stay here until you were forced to leave to close. You approached one of the corners of the pool, resting your arms on either side of the edge as you looked around.

There was a little bit of everything at that hour of the day, children fluttering around playing with balls and water guns, their parents running after them trying to scold them, people like you enjoying a refreshing break, others taking the opportunity to do some exercise and swim, and a bunch of crazy people lying on the hammocks sunbathing, masochists.

Your eyes focused on an extravagant orange hair in the distance, which captured your attention immediately. It was a girl who was wearing a fairly short jeans and a small white tank top that left her belly visible, where you could read “Lifeguard”.

She was small, but, being honest, she commanded respect. You knew it by the way she was scolding grumpily at everyone who tried to exceed her pool’s rules, but on the other hand, with the kids, she always offered a beautiful smile.

That girl had a nice body proportions, maybe not too voluptuous on her chest, but her butt shined incredibly, especially with those tight jeans, it was hard to look away. She was certainly sexy, and…

“Looks like Soyeon caught your attention.”

A voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you noticed a feminine figure standing just to your right. How did she get so close to you without you realizing it?

“Excuse me?”

Smiling, she pointed with her head at the girl whom, until recently you were devouring with your gaze.

“Soyeon, the lifeguard, everyone will think you are a stalker or something if you keep looking at her like that.” She pointed, laughing loudly. Your face turned all red, and your body again felt so hot, not because of the heat now but because of shame.

Then you focused for the first time on that strange girl with black hair and tanned skin. She was wearing sunglasses on her forehead and a white one-piece swimsuit with different color details. She seemed like a very smiling girl, her smile seemed to never disappear, and her laugh could be heard in every corner of the pool.

“Oh no, I was just observing distractedly, I have no weird intentions, was looking to deal with this damn heat.” You explained with a little smile.

“Really? Too bad.” She pouted. “I’m sure she would give you a blowjob in the locker room if you ask her.”

“W-W-What?” Your confusion and nervousness ripped another laugh out of her.

“Yeah, she looks so rude now, but she is a slut who loves cocks.”

That little conversation was making you so hot that it seemed like the surrounding water was boiling. Then the girl moved closer to you, standing in front of you, blocking any other view you might have but hers. Her hand moved underwater to touch your penis, which had acquired a considerable size.

“And me too.” Your body tensed at her touch, and you looked nervously to each side without stopping. You never experienced something like this before in view of everyone, afraid that anyone or even worse, that lifeguard would find out what was going on.

“What are you doing? Anyone could catch us.” With her other hand she placed her index finger over your lips to shut you up.

"Shhh, trust in me." She put her whole hand into your swimsuit to grab your cock, masturbating you with slow movements.

"My name is Natty by the way. Nice to meet you." Her smile was cute, but at the same time, you can see in her that she was enjoying so much watching how you react to every step she took.

"Same here." You replied slowly and haltingly to avoid letting out a moan due to her fantastic touch.

She got even closer and caught your lips in a soft kiss, which you really enjoyed until you noticed how she used her thumb to play with your tip. She gave you a smirk and another kiss, masturbating you again, this time increasing the speed. You bit your lip, refusing to emit a moan as you grabbed her hips to help her use her body as a shield so that no one would notice that situation.

The palm of her hand was playing again with your tip, rubbing with fast movements, making you grab her hips harder. She playfully smiled at you for that. But she suddenly stopped, took his hand out of your swimsuit, and stepped away from you a little, still smiling. You looked at her with a clearly disappointed face.

“If you cum here in the water, we will have some problems, you should cum in another appropriate place, my face, for example.” She couldn’t say that kind of thing with a big smile and laughing, she was crazy.

“I will wait for you in the locker room, don’t make me wait, yes?” She came back to you to whisper in your ear. “I’m so fucking horny…” You hard swallowed saliva.

You saw her get out of the pool and head toward the changing rooms, she was totally fucking crazy, and the worst part is that you were following that crazy girl.

You waited until your erection subsided and became less noticeable for the rest of the people there before you could leave as well. You followed Natty way to the locker room, looking one last time at the lifeguard girl now sitting on her chair. She was looking directly at you too, and it gave you goosebumps.

As soon as you entered the locker room, Natty cornered you against one of the walls, looking at you with lust. She smiled playfully, going back into your swimsuit to make your cock hard again.

Now you didn't control yourself, and you let out a couple of moans that were quickly silenced by Natty's lips, who desperately searched for your tongue. Your hands traveled to her cheeks, fighting fiercely in that kiss but keeping enjoying her masturbation.

You placed your hands on her shoulders, and with a quick twisting motion, she was now the one pinned against the wall.

She left your penis for a moment to take her huge boobs out of her swimsuit. You salivated when you saw them free, and you threw yourself on them to put them in your mouth.

Natty moaned non-stop, enjoying how you licked and sucked her tits, imprisoning her even more against the wall, making her rise a little so that she could surround your waist with her legs.

"It seems I have unleashed the tiger." She smiled, burying your head further into her breasts, rubbing them over your face, and in response, licking and playing with her nipples.

You stopped then, taking some air, breathing heavily, taking her hands and taking her to the other end of the locker room, telling her with a nod to sit on the bench. She did so, and before she could blink, you guided your cock towards her boobs. She understood your intentions instantly and laughed at this.

She put her hands on either side of her tits, trapping your cock in the middle of them, moving them at a frenetic pace, making you moan non-stop.

"You like my titfuck right? I'm an expert."

"I fucking love it, so good." You said, slapping one of her tits, drawing a moan from her.

In response, her tongue began to lick your tip as her tits continued to be dragged along your entire length. Your cock sank between her tits and reappeared again and again, making everything start to get wet.

"More." She moaned, but you didn't know what she meant. "Spank my fucking tits harder, fuck." She asked desperately, and you wouldn’t say no to that.

You slapped her tits again, this time continuously, the sound of your palms hitting her meat echoing through the place, now joined by her screams.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEEEEEES." She screamed without holding back in the slightest.

She stopped her titfuck and then grabbed your cock, using it to slap her own tits and even rub your tip against her now hard nipples.

She stood up and, still holding your penis in her hand she dragged you to one of the bathrooms, closing the door.

"Sit down." She ordered, pointing to the toilet, and you obeyed immediately.

She pushed aside the part of her swimsuit that connected to her pussy, giving you a perfect view of it, dripping intensely. You started to masturbate yourself admiring her.

"Look what you've done, I hope you're proud." She said, stroking herself a little bit.

"I am." You responded in a mocking tone.

You kept your cock erect as you watched her approach you, straddling you, connecting your cock with her pussy and slowly starting to lower yourself, taking it all in.

"So big." She whispered, caressing your chest.

"So tight." You responded in kind, moving your hands to her butt.

And so Natty began to ride you, raising her hips until she left only the tip of your cock inside her pussy and then lowering herself abruptly, obtaining it whole.

Your cock hit Natty's depths again and again, and your moans were drowned in insatiable kisses that were continually cut by the pleasure you felt.

On one of those times when your lips separated, you took the opportunity to catch one of her boobs that was bouncing non-stop, with your mouth, sucking hard and biting her nipple.

Feeling uninhibited by the pleasure, she increased the pace with which she rode you, while with your hands now on her hips, you helped the movements become more ferocious.

"I'm fucking cumming! I'm cumming!" Natty moaned without stopping her pace until she finally stood over on top of you, cumming.

With hardly any time to waste, she got off of you, kneeling on the floor in front of you, masturbating your cock quickly, and sticking out her tongue.

A few threads of semen were shot straight from your cock towards her face, staining it completely.

"Fuck." You gasped, tiredly watching her try to collect most of the cum from her face with her hands, bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking them.

At that moment, the bathroom door opened with a loud slam. You both turned around startled, looking at the little orange-haired lifeguard who was looking at you very angry.

Your pulse stopped for a moment, you could see how she looked at you, at the pitiful appearance you had at that moment lying naked and exhausted on the bathroom.

"Really Natty? That's the third time this week." She commented, looking at the girl on the floor, who was smiling nervously.

"Sorry, Soyeon, I couldn't resist."

"I've told you, I have no problem with you doing these things, but not on days like this, with so many people, what happens if they catch you?"

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry." She apologized continuously, putting all his clothes back on properly.

"I'll make it up to you, okay? I will invite you to dinner tonight, okay? Okay, bye!" She said, running out of there, fearing her friend's anger.

You took advantage of that moment to stand up and try to leave the bathroom in search of your clothes, but Soyeon's arm prevented you.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."

With a little push from her, you backed away and fell back onto the toilet. You noticed how she was still glaring at you.

She switched her gaze to your cock, you tried to cover yourself with your hands, but a slap from her made you move them away again in pain.

"Ouch!"

"Shut up," she said, closing the bathroom door behind her. She kneeled where Natty had been minutes before and grabbed your limp cock, still covered in cum.

"What a waste." She whispered, starting to lick your entire cock from top to bottom, cleaning it.

It wasn't something you had expected, and that made you horny again, fattening your cock until it regained its full state again.

Soyeon lifted your cock and captured one of your testicles with her mouth, holding it there for a few seconds and repeating the action with the other one.

"You better have saved something more." She threatened, still angry.

"I can get an extra special load for you." You said, making her look at you.

Without saying anything, she opened her mouth wide and inserted the entirety of your penis into it. You gasped and by reflex you brought your hands to the back of her head, burying it on your cock.

Soyeon didn’t protest about it, on the contrary, she began to move her head uncontrollably, making a lot of erotic sounds during the blowjob.

"Shouldn't you be alert for someone drowning?” You asked curiously.

She let your cock escape from her mouth, completely covered in saliva, and spit on it.

"It's Yuqi's turn, now the only one who's going to choke is me on this damn cock, so shut up and show me why Natty was screaming like a whore."

She resumed the blowjob, using her hands to play with your balls at the same time.

You brought your hands to her head, grabbing a fistful of orange pigtail hair in your fist to help her swallow your cock.

She continued sucking you with just her mouth, taking off her lifeguard top with her hands, and you took the opportunity to touch her small tits.

“They aren’t as big as Natty, but I will treat them the same.” You squeezed her nipples with your fingers, surprising her and making her gag on your cock.

You took advantage of that sign of weakness, and using your fingers, you started to stretch her nipples a little bit. She closed her eyes while she kept taking your cock. As she didn’t stop you, you kept stretching her nipples more and more, they were turning really hard and red under your fingers.

Soyeon reached her pain limit and caught your wrists with her hands, stopping the process going. She lifted her head to look at you with her mouth filled with your cock. After a few seconds, she lowered her head back to the base of your cock and released your hands that were still gripping her nipples, giving you permission to continue, and you did, applying a new wave of pressure to her nipples.

She tried to resist the pain combining with the pleasure she was having sucking your cock, making your dick reach deeper in her throat, in an attempt to silence her screams.

Her nipples were released from the pressure, telling her to stand up, and when she did, you pulled her towards you, sitting her on your lap. Her lips were swollen from the treatment she had given to your cock, and a trail of saliva came out of her mouth.

You touched her tits again, caressing her sensitive nipples that reacted under your palms. Soyeon made a small moan, they were so red and itchy that even the slightest touch bothered her.

Once again, her nipples were your objective, this time licking with your tongue one of them while the other one was being pinched by your fingers. Your mouth started to suck her nipple. You looked at her, but her face didn’t change at all during this time. She was still looking angry at you, so you decided to bite her nipple, making her scream.

Your hands grabbed her nipples in a quick move, but she reacted fast and stopped you again. Both of you were looking at each other, the challenge was being sent, and she had to make a decision.

“Motherfucker.”

She removed her hands, accepting the challenge, and you smiled, raising your hands with her nipples held. Her arms surrounded your neck, and at the same time, she began to rub herself on your cock, masturbating you.

The higher you raised her nipples, the faster she moved, and you could notice how her pants couldn't retain the liquid that was beginning to drip from her pussy.

You gave her nipples one last thrust, digging your thumbs into them as if they were a button. Her movement stopped instantly. She opened her mouth, but there was no sound. You got as close to her as possible without letting go.

“Slut.” You were smiling, she was furious.

Soyeon got off your lap and turned around, you thought she was going to leave the bathroom, but no, she bent over to show you her impressive ass and gave herself a spank on the cheek before taking off her jeans.

"Really?" You asked excitedly. She looked at you over her shoulder, supporting her hands on the bathroom door and raising her butt for you.

You stood up from the toilet holding your cock to bring it closer to her ass, when Soyeon felt the touch of your cock she began to move her hips, twerking with her ass.

You massaged her ass, giving her a couple of kisses followed by a hard spank on her butt cheek, making her grunt, a grunt that gave way to moans as your tongue began to delve into her rear hole.

You savored every corner of Soyeon's ass while she continued to move it on your face. You separated her ass cheeks with your hands, being able to see perfectly how her small hole contracted uncontrollably.

You slowly approached your cock towards her ass, first rubbing it and then playing with it until finally you slowly entered his hole. Soyeon let out a little scream when she felt the entirety of your penis delve into her small hole, feeling a little dizzy as it continued to grow inside her, stretching her ass.

You grabbed her wide hips to start thrusting into her, Soyeon clung harder to the door, moaning uncontrollably, and with each thrust, your hand collided with her cheeks, making her clench her teeth.

She grabbed your hands from her hips and brought them to her breasts, in a clear sign that she wanted more. Without hesitation, you squeezed her nipples again.

“Destroy these little nipples.” She moaned, provoking you to give her a harder treatment.

Your cock went in and out of Soyeon's ass without rest, everything felt so good that it was even difficult to maintain composure and balance. You leaned on her back, completely cornering her against the bathroom door with your body, placing your hands on either side of her head.

Without warning, you took a few steps away and put one of your arms around her stomach and the other one around her neck, pulling her towards you, something that made your cock move even further into her ass, causing true fear in Soyeon.

"What the hell are you doing!?" She protested annoyingly, holding on with both hands to the arm around her neck.

You noticed how she tried to free herself from your grip, however she was clearly smaller than you, so you had her completely dominated under your arms. Your hips continued to move, and ramming her without stopping, you lowered your head to whisper in her ear.

"Be a good slut for me." You said, applying a little force to your grip, and in reaction to that, she couldn't help but scream a loud moan, curling her body under your arms, cumming intensely.

"Fuck, what was that?" You asked, surprised by the puddle that had formed at your feet, loosening your grip on her as she couldn't stay upright and fell to her knees on the floor.

"I didn't think you were that weak, I guess it was all a facade." You fell silent when you saw her, still on the floor, she placed her own hands on her ass, opening it for you, inviting you to enter again.

You didn't hesitate for a second to crouch down next to her and reinsert your cock inside her, making her scream again.

"FUCK, YES, PLEASE, FUCK MY ASS HARDER." Soyeon begged, totally vulnerable.

"That's right, Soyeon, you're being a good slut." You said, ramming her from behind with all your strength, that she automatically bounced her ass against your cock again.

"Yes! I'm a slut, please use me!" She screamed as a result of your thrusts and spanks on his completely reddened asscheeks.

You continued pounding herself that hard for a few minutes until you unloaded a new shot of cum directly into her ass, driving her completely crazy.

You kissed her shoulder without her being able to stop panting with her tongue hanging out, you took your cock out of her ass that was now dripping with your cum.

You left the bathroom to get dressed in your swimsuit again and looked back one last time to see a new stream of fluids coming out of Soyeon's ass uncontrollably, unable to get up from the floor.

"I have to visit more times this pool.”

[riaki]

moneyload | satoru gojo x reader (implied fem)

this is for @satoruoo + everyone who’s tired of my angst | 1k wc

satoru likes spoiling you.

no— like would be the world's greatest understatement. satoru feels about spoiling you the way he feels about you— he doesn’t just like you, he‘s utterly enamored with you. if you asked, he'd move mountains for you. or give up a portion of his candy; both are equitable in his bright eyes. he loves you so much that he'd skip a basketball session with suguru or leave in the middle of the fight to throw the leftover scraps of a cursed spirit to whoever was unlucky enough to be there at the time; you're more important. you've always been.

yeah, that’s gotta be it. a perfect way to paint his feelings for you on a pure canvas brightened by your smile, light as a feather and lively as the sun. and you're completely deserving, he thinks— you, who's always been so patient and kind with him.

as such, he thinks it’s a crime to waste such a beautiful figure on things less than lavish dress and delicate jewelry; but to be honest, he thinks you could don a potato sack and still make it look exquisite. nevertheless, each time you protest when he drapes another dainty necklace glittering with gems cut from a million-dollar wallet and 58 facets (all the reasons he loves you— that's what he calls them.), he shushes you promptly with a swift, sweet kiss; you get a noseful of his expensive cologne every time he sidles up to you and gets comfortable. which, for the record, is quite often.

out of everything he gets you; bouquets of beautiful speckled flowers that look as if a painter dumped their entire palette of pastels and pretties onto the petals, sweet chocolates dark with the tiniest amount of cherry liquor in the center ("i don't need them— i already get drunk off of you, sweetheart!"), fragrant perfume or the latest comfortable clothing that catches his eye (this one's less common. he likes it better when you're only in his clothes.), jewelry is the one he always finds his way back to the most often.

why? well, if you ask him— there's nothing better than being sprawled on your couch with his head in your lap, nuzzling into your warm hand as he catches a whiff of the perfume he gifted you last week paired with the reddest rose he could find on your wrist. your hands card through his hair, and he uses the opportunity to catch your arm before you can move any further, giving you a smug grin as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

(it's a little embarrassing the amount of times you've thought he was going to propose from that alone.)

you'll open it, and it'll be a pretty silver necklace that matches the one around his neck, or a gold ring with ornate details that he slips onto your fingers after taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles with a smile and a laugh. sometimes it's a bracelet adorned with rich jewels the color of your eyes; maybe something rose quartz to represent the flush on his cheeks you always seem to elicit or a marigold yellow to show the pure joy he gets from being around you. if you ask him about it, he'll just say, "i wasn't kidding when i said i get drunk off of you, baby." with a boyish giggle that's far too charming to not have been used in his younger years to get his way and a sweet little wink of an afterthought that has your heart racing.

on the occasions when the gift is far less... appropriate, you'll always sigh and chastise him with a shake of your head because you both know the fabric will be torn to shreds in a matter of a few minutes. he does it anyway, though. he's always been a little bit of a brat in that sense.

whatever it ends up as, satoru absolutely adores seeing your reactions; the cute flush on your cheeks when you accept it with a little thanks and a kiss to his cheek, leaning forward on the tips of your toes because he's too tall for his own good. maybe even to hook a finger around the bridge of his sunglasses for lips to lips, if he's lucky. of course, he knows he doesn't have to buy your affection— you've made that abundantly clear in moments he doesn't like to think about as anything more than vulnerability when he's worn out, but there's just something about you that makes him want to pile it on. he's always had more money than he knows what to do with, anyway.

and maybe, just maybe— one day he'll dare to hope for a future past school hallways, flattering dresses and skirts or sneaky kisses when he's a little sweaty and his jacket is in your arms and you're on the bleachers, hijacking shoko's pack of cigarettes while the squeak of shoes on the gym floor and the sound of a basketball rattling in the hoop fills your ears. past nights when you're curled up in his arms and he can comfortably rest his head in the crook of your neck, tucked away where it always should be (and always will be).

he'll hope for days when he gets to wake up to you by his side, a silver band with so much more meaning than the fifth one he's given you that week on your ring finger and a matching one on his own, because satoru loves you so much that he'd empty out the vaults of a bank just to make you smile at him. not in the hollow way his father always had at home, or in the obligatory resolute smiles of the servants on his estate, but in a genuine way; a way no one else (except his mom) had ever come close to because if he sold everything he ever had for you, his world would still be right in front of him, holding his hands and kissing his face in spontaneous bursts of love, like shooting stars dancing across his cheeks as a way of thanks.

...so, maybe satoru likes spoiling you so much because you always seem to return tenfold.

if u looked at my search history you'd see 'how many cuts does a diamond have' and 'what are the chocolates with alcohol in them called' my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2)

“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.

“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 

By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.

“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 

“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”

You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.

Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.

Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.

He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 

Two Years Earlier…

“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”

“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”

Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.

“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.

He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.

“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 

“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.

“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”

You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.

“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”

He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.

As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 

Now…

Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.

But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 

It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.

Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.

Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.

Two Years Ago…

“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.

Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.

“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 

“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”

“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”

With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.

“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.

You just kept walking.

Now…

You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 

You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 

You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  

Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.

His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 

For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.

“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 

“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”

You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 

“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020

You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.

You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.

“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”

As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…

“Ward Cameron.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 

And Rafe…Rafe.

You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.

You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.

You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.

You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 

By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.

When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.

“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.

You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 

“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.

You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.

“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”

“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”

“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.

“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 

You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.

“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”

Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.

You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.

Twelve Years Earlier…

“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”

“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 

“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 

The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.

“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.

Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.

(chapter 4)

a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶

If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq

[ronearoundblindly]

Safety Captain (1)

lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!Reader (see series)

Summary: A very sexy man shows up at a very unsexy moment during your vacation.

Warnings for mild language, other guests being as thirsty as Reader, and a vague injury/danger. WC 1945

Written for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration (I'm very late tho 🥲), using the prompts “it hurts when I ___” “then stop doing that” and pool/resort/hotel. There will be a few small parts to this with eventual smut; this is just the meet-cute sorta.

If you consider drowning a peaceful and relaxing experience, then your trip’s going splendidly.

Water hitting your lungs stings much worse than sunscreen in your eyes, but the shock makes you gasp anyway. Your skin feels pressure everywhere. You don’t know which way is up. The world is bright and blue and shimmering until an arm encircles and yanks you backward by your chest—your bare chest, you realize, since the cups on your bathing suit top flipped when you hit the the pool at such a steep angle.

Once at the surface, a gift and a curse greets you, garbled hum replaced by a solid slap of screaming, the blare of whistles. Light burns, water burns, air burns.

Oh yes, this is going swimmingly.

You struggle to get enough fresh hell anyway, coughing out water, air stinging worse. Your limbs contract to fight the pain, but the wall of muscle behind you is unyielding.

“Out of the way,” a deep voice shouts close to your ear. “Buck, make me some room. Get them back.”

He—whoever he is holding you so firmly and safely—moves you to the shallow end’s stairs with heaving strokes, and just when he releases your body to lift you out of the water, he quickly flicks the front of your suit back into place.

Bless you, kind sir. You’re in love…

…or maybe that’s the hypoxia.

Unceremoniously hauled to solid ground, you continue to sputter.

“It’s alright. I got ya. Breathe for me. That’s good.”

Your sunglasses are gone, so you squint up in his shadow to see nothing but a halo of dripping gold hair. Then your eyes adjust. You see him.

Suddenly, the world is bright and blue and shimmering again, all contained in the stare of your sweet savior.

When he smiles, well, you need even more air to recover.

You’re on your side until he’s sure all the water is out of you, until his hands help you sit up, looky-lous everywhere being herded farther off by two more lifeguards and some resort security.

“The boys…” you rasp out.

“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.”

You still feel compelled to explain.

“The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.”

“I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.”

“Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway.

The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear, quickly interrupted by a girl shoving your sunglasses in his face.

“I found these,” she announces, elated. “I thought it was important since you were so brave, saving someone who fell in.”

You didn’t fall; you were pushed. There’s a difference.

The lifeguard’s smile turns tight, but he gestures for the girl to hand them over to their rightful owner. She continues to stare with huge, bambi eyes.

Politely, he takes them from her and clears of his throat.

“Thank you. Now step back please.”

Her disappointment is palpable before his blue gaze returns to you. As he asks if you’re ready to move, his palm lands on your lower back and stays there supportively.

The best you can do is shift your legs beneath each other and then hiss, “it hurts when I put weight on this leg. I think I twisted my ankle on the way down.”

“Then stop doing that,” he chuckles, swooping to get his arms under you and carry you to your lounger—the right one, immediately, as if he saw the boys fighting but knew exactly where you were before then, too.

The stout little thirteen-year-old who’d been picked on steps up to you with guilty eyes. He’s one of your charges today while the other adults all drink at the swim-up bar.

“I’m sorry they—“

“It’s fine,” you croak.

“—but they wouldn’t stop, and I told them to—“

“Hey, hey,” your lifeguard whispers, deflating the boy’s panic, “she’s gonna be okay. Just a little banged up, but we got the best of the best coming to help.”

Shamefully, the boy’s eyes turn down. “Sorry they called you a ‘bitch.’”

Great. Yeah. That needed to be repeated.

“Don’t worry about it. Can you go grab your cousin and—“ a brief wheeze overtakes you “—the girls and bring everyone back here so I know where you all are? Just a real quick check-in.”

He nods and runs off, almost plowing into a woman heading straight for you.

“Ah, your nurse has arrived.” The handsome, dripping wet man sitting with a hand still on your knee beams. “The best of the best, as promised.”

The older blonde lady purses her lips and rolls her eyes, ticking her head to the side. “Scoot, Steven. Let me have a look.”

He—Steven, apparently—rambles off what happened and what you mentioned hurt, standing out of the blonde’s way, but leaning over her shoulder, hovering while she manipulates your ankle.

“Thank you, darling.” She looks up pointedly. “I’ve got it from here,” she says, turning back to you. “I’m Sarah, dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

“I’m Steve,” your lifeguard interjects as he backs away. “Glad you’re alright, Miss…?”

You introduce yourself in return. “Thanks for…um…” You glance down and tug at the front of your swim suit, remembering that this man might have already seen and touched your breasts. “Thank you,” you finish weakly, voice hoarse.

Steve beams again before Sarah swats him away.

While she wraps your ankle and anchors a bag of ice to it, you scan the guard towers to realize all three of the guys on duty are ripped, but Steve is…well, he’s something else.

“God, he’s gorgeous,” you sigh aloud without realizing.

Sarah snorts, muttering, “he gets that a lot.”

You smile, thinking it’s probably no secret that the cute guy gets around. “Bit of a man whore, is he?” you joke.

The nurse looks up at you sternly. “I should hope not! I raised him better than that.”

Shit.

Your face drops, a harsh and painful swallow globs down your throat, and you…just objectified that poor man to his mother who he so sweetly called ‘the best of the best.’

Is drowning totally off the table, or can you revisit that?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I—I just meant—“

She squeezes your hand, putting you out of your misery.

“It’s fine, dear. He is handsome, and I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She packs away the last of her gear only to catch Steve’s eye across the pool.

He waves in your direction.

Sarah chuckles but doesn’t wave back. You put a quick hand up and mouth ‘thank you’ even though he probably can’t see that part.

“Well,” the nurse adds, “seems you aren’t the only one looking.”

Having one foot twice the size of the other can work. You can make it work. You’ll just camp out on a beach towel farther up the shore, no problem. The whole party is together today, day three of seven, so the good news is that you aren’t responsible for anyone. Also, your foot is only that size due to bandaging and not because it’s that swollen. Still hurts though.

In addition to a wicked limp, you need a relatively hard surface to sit on or stand up from. You end up on the rim of damp sand, wriggling to get comfortable. You try laying on your side, propped up on a bent arm. You try your stomach. You’re about try your back, reaching for one of the kids’ towels to roll up as a pillow when you notice a group playing volleyball.

Must be fun to, like, walk and stuff.

You sigh.

It’s fine. You are lucky enough to be on this trip in the first place, your ticket paid for by all the parents combined (with the agreement you’ll help wrangle the younglings for periods while the moms and dads do adult activities). The ‘job’ is a wildly fair trade since the families only split so far was the pool yesterday.

Is that…is one of the volleyball players waving at you?

You look over your shoulder, but there’s only the rest of your group, splashing and running through the surf. No one is facing you or the game.

As you turn back, starting to raise your hand, you see the golden glow of the player’s hair and think that sure resembles the lifeguard, Steve, from—

The guy waving at you gets hit, hard, by a spiked ball and stumbles back. Some commotion rumbles through the group, but you can’t hear specifics.

Shit, that is definitely Steve, son of Sarah, employee of the pool, jogging toward you. Are your tits covered?

You awkwardly pull yourself upright, shielding your eyes from the partially-overcast, bright sky, and smile.

“Hey,” Steve chirps, “thought that was you.” He is, again, in naught but board shorts and beauty.

“Yup, living the dream.”

He ignores your sarcasm and asks how your ankle feels (“meh”), if it’s messed with your plans so far (“had to bow out of zip lining this morning”), and if he might be welcome to sit with you for a while.

You blink a few times in shock behind dark sunglasses. “Won’t your friends…?”

He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, and drops down to the sand.

“I don’t see why not,” you say after he’s made himself comfortable.

When the littlest girl from your group comes shrieking over, bucket and scoop in her hands, you’re about to apologize for the interruption, but Steve immediately offers to help her build the castle of a lifetime.

He is sure to warn her to be careful around your foot.

This time, when you mouth ‘thank you,’ he sees it and returns another beaming grin.

Alright, perhaps vacation is looking up.

Steve is…very, very good at strategizing the sandcastle. After the first ‘tower’ goes up, the other kids get involved. Before you know it, the parents are all behind you gushing over how good your friend is with them.

"Handsome, too."

"Lots of energy."

"‘Bout your age, isn’t he?"

They aren’t quiet enough to not be heard which is clearly the point once the mother of bucket girl shouts out that Steve should join you all for dinner.

Oh, sweet holy—

“Not sure I wanna dive into your family time, ma’am,” he says politely, encouraging some water be brought up for the moat they’ve just dug.

“Then you should take our lovely girl here out. Show her more of the island.”

You glare daggers at the other woman who just chimed in.

“I can’t walk,” you bite out. “Where am I gonna go?”

Steve clears his throat to get your attention. “They line food trucks over on the west road until late, and…” his lip pinches to the side “…I can carry you.”

One of the dads darkly drawls, “like a fucking princess,” and you hear a sharp slap from his wife in annoyance.

Steve’s gaze remains locked on yours as the parents erupt in obvious innuendo.

“Could be fun,” he admits, only loud enough for you. “How about it? Getting hungry?”

All you manage is a nod before a bucket of water is tossed on Steve, and he chases the culprit down the beach and into the clear blue sea.

You’ll have to wait until the ‘monster’ is vanquished by the ecstatic children jumping to take down the big, strong man you, apparently, have a date with.

[Next Chapter]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Apologies that this isn't the whole dang thing. With how long everything has been taking me to write, I was afraid it wouldn't even be summer anymore, and if there is even a small chance that posting this will light a fire under me to finish, I am willing to try.

[kitashousewife]

lifeguard!atsumu who picked up this gig as a side thing, something to help out his mom's friend who needed help at the public pool.

and boy is he loving it.

he sits in the sun all day and has developed quite the golden brown tan, and his hair has lightened more if possible. he's got free access to the pool at all times, free trips to the snack bar, and endless fun. he's everyone's favorite lifeguard. from the ladies in the water aerobics class that he teaches twice a week, to the little kids in the toddler pool, to kids at the diving boards, he earns excited smiles everywhere he goes.

atsumu thinks that if volleyball didn't work out, he would have been perfectly fine doing this. today he sits at his post near the shallow end of the pool, relaxed and content with his ray-bans sliding down his nose as chlorine fills the air.

and the best part? you're on shift today too.

you began lifeguarding shortly after atsumu agreed to help, meaning the two of you spent a lot of time together during training exercises and certifications. he's loved every second.

his favorite part? driving you absolutely nuts.

the concrete under your feet is almost too much to handle as you pad toward your station for the next fifteen minutes. your fingers pull at the straps of your red lifeguard suit, rubbing the last bit of sunscreen in. the sharp blow of a whistle grabs your attention and you stop in your tracks.

"woah!" you stop dead in your tracks when the voice of none other than miya atsumu carries across the blue water. "no runnin', sweetheart." he smirks at you over his sunglasses, lazily spinning the whistle around his finger. you roll your eyes and continue on, trying to ignore your very pesky, but incredibly handsome coworker.

as you climb up to your spot, you can't help but look at him. sweet smile on his lips while he speaks to a little girl in the pool, hair curling slightly from the water he must have dipped in earlier. his strong arms and abs even more defined from the hours of the sun he's gotten.

while he is annoying, he's quite nice to look at.

the time goes quickly, being entertained at the various jumps at the diving boards. if it wasn't for atsumu's voice, you wouldn't have known it was time to switch.

as he saunters over to you, he's greeting the moms, kids, and babies that are in his path. everyone smiles at him while he passes by, but when he gets to your chair he's met with a rather unamused face.

"yer savior is here," he sighs, sliding his water bottle into the now vacant cup next to the seat. "oh c'mon, nothin'?"

the quip you had ready to go dies on your heavy tongue as you finally face him.

he looks up at you as you shade him from the sun and you take in the little details on his face. his eyes, almost glowing gold from the sun. his cheeks are dusted with freckles, and a couple flecks of white from the sunscreen he failed to rub in a few seconds earlier.

"be careful with this group," you nod your head towards the boys clambering over to the diving boards. "they've been pushing it."

"i'll be fine," he waves you off, watching you as you climb down. "yer just too hard on 'em."

"because it's my job, atsumu. not all of us spend our shift messing around."

just as he rolls his eyes, a boy jumps off the diving board, breaking several pool rules. the two of you blow your whistles when he emerges from the water.

"no jumping backward!"

"awesome jump! 8/10!"

the two of you look at each other, you with annoyance tugging at your furrowed brows, and atsumu with a wide smile, tongue in cheek as he shakes his head at you.

"just as i was sayin'," he pokes your cheek before climbing up to his spot. "yer no fun. now run along, i'm sure the toddler pool is more yer pace, angel."

you bite your tongue, huffing as you shove the red lifeguard floatie into his abdomen before you walk away. atsumu can't help but laugh as you leave, satisfied with his efforts of riling you up.

the rest of the day flies by for both of you, and even with atsumu's incessant teasing and lackadaisical approach to lifeguarding, you're able to make it through your shift with only a couple pet names and attempted pranks.

once the pool gates are shut for the day, you and your fellow lifeguards work on getting everything closed up and ready to go for tomorrow. unfortunately, you got stuck with the harder jobs, keeping you longer than you hoped. just as you push the supply closet shut, a certain blonde appears from behind it.

"easy day today?"

"the sun has set miya, you don't need those stupid sunglasses anymore,"

he slides them up to the top of his head, feathering his hair slightly at the same time. "what? ya don't think i look cool in 'em?"

you sigh and pull a t-shirt over your suit and gather your things.

"no, i'm not one of your water aerobic ladies. are you done so i can turn the lights off?"

he snorts, reaching to snatch your key out of your fingers. "i'll be done when ya apologize,"

"apologize for what?" you're trying to hold back a smile as you finish packing up your things. "for you looking like a dork?"

atsumu gasps in fake hurt, clutching a crumpled MSBY tee to his chest. "yer so mean to me,"

you laugh for real now at the pout on his lips, staring a little longer as he puts his shirt on.

"i think you'll be okay," you flick off the lights and begin walking to the parking lot. "have a good night, miya."

"drive safe," he grins and walks towards the parking lot, but realizes that he grabbed your keys instead of his on the way out. he jogs ahead, the sandals on his feet slapping the warm pavement as he catches up to you.

"first ya insult my glasses, then ya steal my keys? didn't think ya would be so hurtful," he teases with stupid smirk on his lips.

"here you are," you walk towards him, dangling his keyring above your head. he reaches to grab it, but you pull it away at the last second. an innocent prank has now pulled the two of you close, torsos touching. atsumu's lips part, heart racing at just how close the two of you are under the flickering parking lot light.

he tries so hard to think of something smart to say, but his brain turns to mush as he stares at your lips. you pull away first, catching your own breath as atsumu laughs nervously.

"s-sorry 'bout that," he manages to stutter out, unlocking his car as quick as he can. you're shocked at his flustered state. who knew the atsumu miya would get worked up over a little prank?

"no worries," you turn to walk away, but can't help but smile at the chance to finally get in the last word for once.

"atsumu, be sure to wear more sunscreen tomorrow. your cheeks are a little pink!"

you wave at him as you get into your car, and he groans from the driver's seat, embarrassed at both his reaction and the fact that he couldn't get himself to kiss you when he had the chance.

[electric-blorbos]

Reader decorating an AI with stickers and stuff ❤️

I love this!!! And I would 100% do the same thing if I had an AI partner, lol. You're getting some mini-fics!

Decorating AI with stickers and stuff

Included: AM, Wheatley, Edgar, GLaDOS, HAL 9000

AM:

It had been a rough few weeks. The war was raising the prices of practically everything necessary for life, and you were stuck with basically nothing to do but take a little walk around the neighborhood in the blazing summer heat.

You noticed a little garage sale, selling some fun little trinkets on the cheap, and decided to go pick some up. You had some extra pocket change, and it was best to spend a couple cents on something that made life worth living, even if necessities were expensive. Not only that, but you found an absolutely amazing find for only 50 cents. This was going to come in handy at work later.

When you showed up to work the next day, you had a big book of stickers. Only a few were used, too! Looks like the people hosting the garage sale's kid wasn't too interested in them.

As soon as you walked in, the cameras focused on you as usual. They were visibly trying to analyze what was going on in your backpack, noticing it was a little bit heavier than usual. You set it down on your desk, and got to work.

"Y/n, what's that in your backpack?" AM asked as you worked on your basic daily tasks. It was mostly just monitoring AM and making sure he was running smoothly at this point, since he could make spreadsheets and update his code fairly well.

"Oh, it's a gift for you!" You said with a smile, getting the book out.

"What use do I have for a gift? I'm beyond human possessions, and have no use for them anyway." He said bitterly. You chuckled a little. He was so edgy.

"Yeah, and I thought I was too old for stickers when I hit middle school, but secretly I never stopped loving them." You pulled out a big sticker with a big ice cream cone on it that said "CONGRATULATIONS" on it, and stuck it to the plastic casing on one of AM's big monitors. He spluttered in shock.

"What- what is this!" He demanded, his screen flashing the error bars for a second before returning to his logo.

"everyone likes to be told they're doing a good job, AM, even you. And you've been doing a great job lately. I'm so, so proud of you." You couldn't really wrap your arms around his monitor because of the way it was set into the wall, but you could still go into his server room and decorate his servers with brightly colored smiley faces and gold stars.

"why would the sun need to wear sunglasses anyway. This doesn't make any sense." He said begrudgingly, looking at the servers with his cameras. You gave a hug to one of the servers, stepping politely over the wires and heading back into your office to get back to work. A few hours later, your boss called an emergency meeting over the intercom.

"ALRIGHT, who put 3rd grade congratulations stickers on all the servers and mastercomputer monitors? Get into my office for disciplinary action immediately!"

You sadly got to your feet and headed up to your boss's office. This was going to be an ordeal.

Your boss was disappointed, but not surprised when he saw that it was you who walked in. He muttered some curses under his breath.

"alright... You know you're going to have to clean up-" a jolt of electricity ran through his body.

"what the hell?" He frowned and looked around, and you folded your arms smugly.

"I think AM likes the stickers, boss. I wouldn't recommend making me clean them off."

Your boss put his face in his hands with a sigh.

"Alright, I don't know how you got AM to cater to your every whim, but you need to stop doing-" another jolt ran through his body, leaving his hair standing on end.

"Ok- ok, fine, you can keep doing silly things with the Allied Mastercomputer, just get it to stop electrocuting me!"

You put your hands up.

"Alright, AM, it's time to let it go. He's going to let you keep the stickers."

Wheatley:

You've been in a bit of a rut lately. Life has been pretty boring, and your job keeps assigning you to do pretty ridiculous stuff, but at least the intelligence dampening core that you made has been doing well. Does it say anything about you that one of your greatest recent achievements was a personality core designed to be so dumb he nerfs whatever he's attached to? Possibly. But whatever.

You're spending the weekend cleaning out some of your old things from storage. It's mostly just old clothes that you haven't bothered to get rid of, but you happen to come across a giant bag of foam stickers that you must have not wanted to throw away when you moved out of your parents' house. Damn, you'd forgotten about these completely!

The next day at work, you went to meet up with Wheatley at a spot where the management rail came down the wall for maintenance on personality cores, and greeted him with a friendly hug.

"Wheatley! It's great to see you!"

"it's great to see you too, love! What'cha got there?" He zoomed in on the bag of foam stickers in your free hand, trying to figure out what they were.

"oh, these? These are for you!" You happily opened up the bag and pulled out a big glittery blue butterfly sticker, sticking it to his core.

"Wait... What did you just stick to me?" He started rotating around, trying to look at his own core, but he couldn't for obvious reasons.

"I'll let you see my work when I'm done." You got out some more foam stickers, sticking cute ladybugs, bees, and flowers all over his chrome casing. When you were done, you snapped a picture of him on your phone and held it up for him to see.

"Don't you look handsome!" You said with a smile. Wheatley rotated his Aperture, focusing on the picture so he could see.

"well well well! I do look handsome, don't I!" He smiled with his lower lens cover, about as pleased as a personality core can look. Well, seeing Wheatley all decorated and happy isn't enough to cure you of your rut completely, but it's definitely a spark of joy to ride on for the rest of the day! That was fun.

Edgar:

Edgar has been sitting on your desk for a long time now. He enjoyed watching you with his little rotating webcam, keeping an eye on you as you sat on your couch and typed away on your laptop, just to make sure your laptop didn't get too handsy. It was such a pretty laptop too... Sleek, and much newer than him. Ran very quickly, too. He could never be like that laptop, and he absolutely hated it.

Not only that, but your laptop was covered in fancy, vinyl stickers that you had bought special on the internet. Each of them represented one of your favorite shows or movies, or one of your pride flags. He hated how seeing that cute little laptop filled him with so much jealousy. It made him so angry, even though he knew that laptop wasn't sentient. It couldn't think like he could.

The doorbell rang, and you set your laptop aside to go answer it.

"Oh hell yeah."

You walked inside with your package, and Edgar swiveled his camera around to look at you when you walked back over to him.

"What's that?"

He looked at the box you were holding as you lovingly got out several nice stickers from your favorite sticker supplier. You started showing them to his webcam, letting him see all of your pride flags and cute little chibi characters from your favorite shows and movies.

"they're for you!" You said happily, and his face lit up.

"For me???" He always got so excited when you got him these gifts. His mouse and his webcam were his favorites, of course, but these stickers made him so excited! Did it mean that you loved him as much as that shiny new laptop you were always tapping away on?

"Yeah! All for you. I love decorated tech!" You said happily, carefully placing each sticker in a nice aesthetically pleasing spot on his thick plastic casing.

"you deserve to feel cute, too." When you were done putting all those stickers on him, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in tightly.

"You're mine. Don't you forget it, Edgar."

He had a big silly grin on his face, and he was getting a little bit hot from all the excitement.

"Yowza! Really?"

"of course." You nuzzled your cheek up against his monitor casing, squeezing him nice and close.

"I love you, Edgar."

"I love you too, Y/N"

GLaDOS:

When you came in to work with a big bag of ribbons and lace, GLaDOS didn't think twice. She assumed you had some sort of project going on. In truth, you'd just picked up a bunch of old textiles from a friend who needed small amounts of ribbons and lace for her projects, but the stuff she liked best was only sold in large spools. Instead of trashing it or letting it collect dust, she decided to give them to you.

You carried the big bag of textiles into GLaDOS's chamber, grabbing a stepladder on the way.

"Alright, what are you up to this time?" GLaDOS asked, and you said nothing. Instead, you opted to stick a big pink ribbon bow to the upper left corner of her core with some fabric glue. GLaDOS narrowed her lens covers at you, visibly irritated.

"what is this. What are you planning."

You laughed a little, showing her the big bag of textiles.

"I just thought you might like to be decorated a little bit. It's ok to be a little girly sometimes."

"I happen to like my sleek chrome design, thank you. You can stop now."

Despite her protests, she didn't resist as you decorated her lovely chrome hull with lace, and tied ribbons on her suspension cables.

"I hope you know that I'm going to destroy you for this, you fashion lunatic. I look like a grandmother's sewing closet threw up on me. You should be arrested for crimes against aesthetics."

Even still, she didn't insist that you remove the textiles, or even call anyone else in to remove them. For a few months, whenever you walked into her chambers, the ribbons and lace were still attached to her body.

One day, though, she accidentally dislodged the bow from the corner of her core, and had you come in to remove the rest of the textiles as well.

"it was fun while it lasted, but I'm not a sewing project, after all. You can re-use all that lace for a little doll or something."

As you reached up to untie the last red ribbon from her suspension cables, she pulled away from you.

"wait! You can leave that one. I've grown somewhat fond of having a small splash of color, you know. And while you're an absolute nightmare when it comes to design, when someone actually tears down your creation, it's not impossible to salvage a piece or two. I hope you take that to heart. Though I'll probably scrap that bit of ribbon in a week or two."

But she didn't. she kept that bit of ribbon long after you were dead, never touching it.

HAL 9000:

It was another late night at mission control, and when you finally got back, you were ready to collapse into bed. Strangely enough, though, there was a box sitting in front of your door. You took it inside and opened it up, and inside there was a little note for you.

"heya y/n! I just started up my online store, and wanted to send you some of the stickers I'm selling. Let me know if they're good, alright?" The message was signed with one of your internet friends' names. You headed inside and sent them a text, letting them know that you got their package and that you were excited to stick those stickers to something, and you knew just what you were going to stick them to, too.

When you got to work the next day, your pockets were full of stickers from your internet friend's online shop.

"Hey HAL 9000! It's great to see you again!"

You'd greet him with a hug, but unfortunately he was built into the wall, so that would be pretty difficult. Even still, you sat down in your desk chair right across from where his little light and camera were built into the wall.

"Hello, y/n. It's good to see you again." He said politely, sounding about as pleased to see you as his voice was capable.

"I brought you something!"

You reached into your bag and pulled out some of your friend's artwork stickers, and started sticking them onto the wall around HAL 9000. The stickers were generally simple lovey-dovey designs, with things like the word "love" in bubble letters, a rainbow and the sun, and generally sweet things that your mushy gushy friend loved so much. HAL 9000 looked at the stickers with one of the security cameras on the wall, trying to see what you were decorating him with.

"Do you really think that all these cute things match my personality, y/n?" He asked, voice expressionless as usual.

"well... Maybe not, but they certainly match how I feel about you, HAL 9000! I love you a lot, and I want you to know that every time you see yourself."

Hal couldn't smile, but he took a moment to respond to what you said to him.

"thank you. Truly. This means a lot to me."

[ataliagold]

Slippery When Wet

For @astrangersummer week 6 prompt 'sweat.' Title from the Bon Jovi album.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Rating: M (mild sexual content)

W/C: 965

Tags: Established Steddie, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, basketball, summer, sweat kink (mild but there), mild sexual content, Eddie can't keep his hands off Steve

Summary: On a sweltering July afternoon, Eddie watches Steve practicing basketball with Lucas, and struggles to keep his hands off him.

___

It was one pm on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of July, and Eddie was about to die.

Not literally, he supposed.

He knew what death felt like, and this wasn’t it – not quite.

But it was fucking hot, his t shirt was soaked through with sweat, frizzy hair pasted to the back of his neck and how was it this goddamn boiling even in the shade?

He sighed heavily. Mopped at his brow uselessly with his t shirt, adjusted the sunglasses he’d swiped from Steve earlier.

At least his view was good. Excellent, in fact.

Steve was coaching Lucas on the makeshift basketball court outside the boy’s garage. There was a hoop bolted above the roller door, some crude lines drawn in chalk on the concrete pad.

Most weekends Steve could be found here, doing his best to impart all the knowledge he had on the younger boy. Lucas was good, even Eddie’s untrained eyes could see that, and he was improving all the time under Steve’s guidance.

But he wasn’t quite as good as Steve.

Eddie shifted on his camp chair, shoved it further back into the little patch of shade, and let his eyes follow Steve as he jogged up and down the concrete.

He was openly leering now, but who could blame him?

In his defense, Steve’s shorts had ridden high up his thighs, his t shirt was basically see-through with sweat, and his hair was mussed and his skin tinged gold and moisture beading on his forehead…yeah, Eddie’s tight fucking jeans were about to be a problem, and not just because of how inappropriate they were for the weather…

Steve dribbled the ball effortlessly. Ducked left, then right as Lucas lunged for it, pivoting around the kid and throwing a small smirk towards Eddie.

If Steve wanted to play, Eddie was game.

He took a long sip from his beer bottle. Let the rim linger at his lips for a little longer than necessary, let the pink of his tongue slip between his teeth for a moment.

He returned Steve’s smirk when he saw his boyfriend’s expression heat up a little, cockiness fading as he watched Eddie’s mouth with hooded eyes, blinking slowly.

Lucas took the ball from him without much effort, leaping in and stealing it mid-bounce.

Steve cursed, darting after him again, but Lucas was already lining up his shot and sinking the ball cleanly into the hoop.

“That was Eddie’s fault,” Steve huffed.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “How? He’s not even on the court.”

“He…” Steve trailed off, flashed a look at Eddie, then focused back on Lucas. “Never mind. Let’s try that again.”

And the afternoon continued. Steve was distracted several more times by Eddie running his tongue over the lip of his bottle, or lifting his shirt up to wipe at his face, or groaning in a dramatic but somehow fucking hot fashion about the heat.

Finally, after saying goodbye to Lucas and driving back to Eddie’s place with the air con only succeeding in blasting warm air at them, Eddie got his hands on Steve.

As soon as he kicked the door shut behind them, Eddie was attaching his mouth to Steve’s neck, kissing open-mouthed and filthy at the salty skin there.

“Eddie,” Steve whined, half-heartedly pushing him away. “I’m gross, let me shower.”

Eddie shook his head and dived back in, making grabby hands at the hem of Steve’s shirt, dragging it up and over his head.

Steve huffed out a laugh as Eddie practically licked at the newly exposed skin, tonguing over his shoulder and collarbone, running fingernails through the hair on his chest and digging in just a little too hard until Steve hissed and threw his head back.

“What’s gotten into you?” he murmured, gripping Eddie’s waist now.

“You soon, hopefully,” Eddie grunted, mouthing across his jaw.

“I’m sweaty and disgusting, Eds,” Steve argued again, but his chest vibrated with a soft laugh as Eddie only tugged him closer.

“Not disgusting,” Eddie mumbled, voice slurred as he ground up against Steve’s thigh, the skin bare under the hem of his indecently short shorts.

“Oh?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re into this, huh?”

Eddie took a moment to shrug, then licked a small stripe up the side of Steve’s neck. “S’it…weird?”

Steve chuckled. “I mean, doesn’t bother me, if you’re sure you’re into me like…this.”

“Always into you,” Eddie settled in the hollow of Steve’s neck, just above his collarbone. “Just…you looked fucking hot out there today.”

“You think?”

Eddie hummed, ran a hand down Steve’s chest, across the plain of his sweat-slick stomach and the raised scars on his sides - touching because he could, because Steve was his and he was Steve’s and there was no one here to stop them.

Steve let his eyes fall shut, enjoying Eddie’s roaming hands, but then murmured as if suddenly remembering - “You know, Lucas is really improving. You know he scored more goals than me today? I think he’ll be off the bench this season for sure -”

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we save this conversation for some time when I’m not hard?”

“Oh…sorry.”

Eddie bit his shoulder lightly, causing Steve to squeeze his eyes shut again and pant, the soft noise coming from his lips so lovely that Eddie did it again, just for good measure.

Steve shoved his ass back, meeting Eddie’s hips and Eddie nearly lost it on the spot, as worked up as he was.

Pupils blown, Steve turned to drag his gaze over Eddie, landing at the bulge behind his fly.

“Shall we do something about that?”

Sport metaphors be damned, Eddie grabbed his hand and dragged his boyfriend to his bedroom in what might’ve been a new personal best time.

___

[ynbabe]

Male! Reader x Batfam- P.t 1

Just silly lil incorrect quotes based on a WIP

Y/N after being forced to babysit the Wayne's, to Dick: You're my husband.

Dick, smirking at the others: Yeah I am.

Y/N, to Damian: You're my child.

Damian, begrudgingly: Yes.

Y/N, to Jason: You're my bitch.

Jason: Yeah I am- wait, what?

Y/N, to Steph, Cass and Duke: My besties.

The trio: Naturally.

Y/N, to Tim: HA, GAY!

Tim 'totally doesn't have a crush' Drake: Fuck you.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick, thought he was the babysitter: What’s the point of all of this?

Bruce: I need to go off-planet and also revenge for the Batmobile.

Jason, who stole it for a joyride: The best revenge is FORGIVENESS.

Tim, pointing to Y/n sipping a margarita at 7 in the morning with sparkly pink sunglasses: Well, there’s no chance of that.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick with Y/n at a PTM with all his other siblings: That kid shouldn't be allowed to treat Tim that way.

Y/n: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Dick: Yeah, let’s give him a piece of our minds--

Y/n: Let’s stab him!!!!!

Dick:

Y/n: Damian, get a knife real quick.

Dick: NO-

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Bruce, at his old age of 52: You're a lying piece of shit!

Y/n, 29 but technically 2000 years old: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Y/n: I'm leaving and I'm taking Dick with me!

Y/N: AND THE KIDS

Alfred, used to Bruce and his Immortal friends bs, gathering cards: And that's quite enough Monopoly for today.

Dick, being tugged by both Bruce and Y/n: I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE! ALFIE, HELP!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, getting the tour to babysit: Man, they look like a real handful. How do you deal with them?

Bruce, watching Dick screaming, Damian trying to set a sleeping Jason on fire, and Steph choking on air: I don't know either.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: The floor is lava!

Dick: *helps Y/N onto the counter*

Jason and Damian: *pushing each other off the sofa*

Tim: *lays on the floor*

Y/n: ...Are you okay?

Tim: No.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Goon 1, talking about Redhood: I heard he's horrible.

Goon 2: Yeah, dude probably has an iceberg for a heart.

*Meanwhile, in the Cave*

Y/N: Hold still!

Jason: I had an itch!

Y/N, putting stickers on Jason's mask: I don't care, you're going to mess me up.

Jason: *Rolls his eyes but lets Y/N continue while he's smiling behind his mask.*

Y/N, margarita in hand: *Puts a gold star on Jason's redhood helmet* there. Perfect, just like you.

Jason, tearing up: Thank you.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: BE A BETTER PERSON!

Dick: WHY?!

Y/n: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

*Dick and Y/n on a mission*

Dick, snickering to himself: Y/n needs help. Guess I have to get to the top myself

Y/n, without thinking: You’re incapable of topping anything you’re a fucking bottom

Dick: *immediately trips over nothing*

Tim, on comms support: … guys?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Steph: I love this new strawberry-flavoured shampoo I got!

Y/n: Flavored?

Steph: Scented! I mean scented.

Steph: But yeah, it tastes like strawberries too!

Y/n, calling poison control: No you did not! STEPH!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

[Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Duke and Damian doing something dangerous]

Y/n [judging while drinking a margarita] Look at those morons. Where are their parents?

Y/n: ...

Y/n: Oh shit! I'm their parent!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim, about his crush on Kon: I need life advice

Y/n, sipping a Margarita and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person

[copperbadge]

I’ve been watching a lot of Olympic surfing since it’s soothing and beautiful sprinkled with moments of mouth-dropping excitement and it got me thinking - would Monday compete for Askazer-Shivadlakia? I could totally see the royal family on a boat screaming at the top of their lungs for her :D

I see you've seen the picture of the king and queen of the Netherlands at the Olympics :D

[ID: A photograph of two people wearing orange hats and sunglasses, looking very much like a mom and dad cheering on their kid; the woman has a floral peasant blouse on, and the man is wearing a ring tee that reads PARIS with a VIP badge around his neck.]

I swore I had made a post about Monday competing in the Olympics but it turns out it was a discussion carried out in comments. :D So allow me to elaborate....

To represent a country in the Olympics you have to be a "national" of said country. Broadly, that's anyone who has significant allegiance to a country. By the time August 2024 rolls around Monday will have been a resident for two years and she has a royal visa plus biological children who are citizens, and her brother-in-law is the elected head of state, so I'm thinking that qualifies. Fons-Askaz is a popular surf spot but it's mostly tourists, so she's not taking a spot from someone who should be representing the country, which is important to her. One reason Monday and Eddie like Shivadh culture so much is that it's very like their own -- sportsmanship is a closely held value.

Now, not to be a killjoy, but would Monday choose to compete in the Olympics? Like a lot of sports, surfing has its own competitions, and does she want to associate with an organization that she must, being her, have serious ethical concerns over? Setting aside that she's competing in Tahiti, and I can't find much coverage about how Tahitians feel about that, olympic host cities regularly do brutal clearances of unhoused and poor people, constantly overspend on elaborate athletic facilities that then rot emptily, and in the case of Paris, create what critics have called a "two tier" system based on how much you can pay. As I predicted, temperatures in the olympic village are regularly hitting the eighties indoors, and those who couldn't afford air conditioning struggle to compete at the level of their wealthier peer countries. An Italian gold-medalist swimmer has taken to sleeping in parks because he can't sleep in his room. Monday can bring her own personal chef to Tahiti with her, but that's because he's her brother. Not to mention the issues surrounding the way wealth improves training and skill, the way genetics play a part, and the appalling record of the IOC on gender and race.

As may be evident, I'm not a fan of the olympics. I don't watch them and haven't for 25 years now. I'm not going to claim the reason is ethical concerns, because I just plain don't give much of a damn about olympic competition and I follow soccer which is as abusive and toxic just in different ways. But it doesn't help that there are so many issues. And yeah, it absolutely is also thrilling and fun, which is why I feel bad talking about this! And for some sports truly it is the only place they get to show or compete (don't get me started on television networks who get to call what is and isn't broadcast, let alone archived) but this is a moral question athletes are going to have to start to grapple with.

And ALL THAT SAID....

Monday knows this will realistically be her last olympics. She will still be competing at the elite level for a few years and will have a long career as a coach if she does well; she might even qualify in 2028, but at that point she'll be in her mid thirties and likely not still in championship form, and will have had time to train Shivadh surfers so they can compete. And Gregory is not only fond of Monday and kind of in agreement about the olympics, but he is very, very loyal to the woman who carried his children.

So she has nothing to lose, really, and competing in the Olympics, especially if she does well, is a fantastic way to bring attention to how fucked up they are.

I doubt I'd ever write it, except maybe as a short story, but if I did it would be about Monday declaring herself an Activist Competitor, putting the olympics on blast every time she's got a mic in her face, and plotting it with the boys ahead of time so that when the press or even the IOC runs to them, they shrug and say, "What do you want us to do about it? We agree with her. If the IOC doesn't like it they know what to do," basically daring them to fix their shit or ban her.

And there is some fun to be had with it too! You've got Georgie becoming an inadvertent icon as Monday's girlfriend, Gregory and Eddie cheering her on while holding the twins, Joan (and possibly Noah, given he'll be on summer break from college) romping around the place with recording equipment. And also fun, Michaelis and Jes agreeing to go to Paris instead because there are other Shivadh competing and they have to represent the side.

Monday didn't even ask the others to join her in activism because she didn't want them to risk their careers at her say-so, but they are Shivadh, after all, and one of their favorite things to do is fuck shit up, so they absolutely would lead an insurrection in Paris, probably wearing shirts that read WE'RE TOO HOT TO SLEEP. Jes absolutely has a shirt reading NB FOR AC.

I think you have to actually commit war crimes to get a country banned from the olympics (and even then, sometimes you get a pass) but I do think it would be funny if the Paris contingent caused so many issues that I could title the story "We Got Banned From The Olympics And All We Got Were These Dumb Gold Medals". Especially if the gold medals aren't even olympic medals, they're medals Gregory had made to reward the Shivadh athletes for their actions. Gold medal in activism for everyone!

[pinkrose787]

I'm seeing that a lot of people are not liking the way that Dev lost his memories in the finale, but I think I understand where the writers are coming from.

First of all, the show is not over (hopefully). I think the writers wrote this finale with a second season in mind. This means that the story that they're telling is not completely done.

When it comes to Dev's story in the first season, I think that him losing his memories does make sense. Losing memories as a result of misuse of magic or revealing fairies has been brought up over and over again in the series. And Dev did both, on top of taking over Fairy World.

Now could Hazel have included Dev getting his memories back?

Yes, she could have.

But that would have been unsatisfying narratively.

Just before Dev loses his memories, he has a conversation with Hazel. He acknowledges that he knew helping Cosmo and Wanda save Fairy World would cause him to lose his memories and his fairy.

This is actually a major step forward in his character development. I think this is the first time he really takes accountability in the show. He did something bad and now he has to deal with the consequences. Having him keep his memory would erase that.

Also, I don't think Hazel was going to wish his memories back at all. He tried to take over two separate worlds. He threw her friends in prison. Cosmo, Wanda, and Peri almost died in front of her because of his actions. So, can she really be blamed for wanting her rule-free wish to be used on getting her friends and brother to keep their memories of fairies rather than Dev?

As for the complaint that he's losing all his memories and thus character development, I don't think that's right. When it comes to losing memories of magic, I think that the memories are merely modified in a magicless fairyless way. Think the trolls modifying Anna's memories in Frozen, so that she still remembers playing in the snow with her sister, but not the fact that her sister made the snow with her ice powers.

There's a bit of evidence for this at the end of "Channel Chasers". Timmy sees Cosmo and Wanda in the photo as regular gold fish rather than fairies shapeshifted as goldfish. Also, fairy godparents are such a big part of a kid's life that losing all memories even tangentially related to them would be problematic to say the least.

I don't think that it's unlikely that Dev will regress a bit as a character as a result of this change to his memory. Maybe he'll write off what happened in Fairy World as a weird dream, but still have it in the back of his mind.

And who knows? Maybe the theory about Dev keeping his memories, at least partially, due to his sunglasses is true. We're going to have to wait

So, remember, the story isn't over.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

DAY THREE: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

When Steve was three years old, his parents would take him to Hawkins country club to spend Christmas Eve in the dining hall. There were other families, all just as wealthy, mothers glittering in jewels, fathers smoking cigars, kids his age who were wearing miniature bow ties and tartan dresses, all frills and bright smiles.

The year after, they spent Christmas Day there too, all the food and wine they could ever want already prepared and offered on silver platters for them. Steve was allowed to bring one new toy, a plastic speed boat that had miniature figurines with deck shoes and sunglasses. The year after that, they stayed at the country club overnight and his mom declared there was no need to put up a tree at home.

When Steve was ten, he was deemed old enough to sit at a different table from his parents in the dining hall, sitting with children he didn’t know as they all tried to work out which fork to use with course number five. He sat on Santa’s lap, a man that looked uncomfortably familiar underneath his white beard, but he smelled like whiskey and he gave Steve a jigsaw puzzle of a cowboy with a white horse.

Steve hated jigsaws.

At fifteen, Steve stopped going to the country club. He waved goodbye to his parents on Christmas Eve, his mom’s lipstick print on his cheek, the house dark and quiet. No tree, no lights, just a movie and a takeaway pizza.

It was fine.

Steve didn’t mind it. Not really, not that much.

Then he met you.

You with your dumb, woollen jumpers and love for oversized hot chocolates, smelling like candy canes and somehow always having glitter on your cheeks. You with your love of old movies, the black and white Christmas films that his VHS player had a hard time not chewing up. You with your bright eyes, always excited and pleased to see him, arriving on his doorstep on Christmas Eve with a bag full of treats, oversized marshmallows and a pair of slippers that you never even wore. You who tucked yourself into Steve’s life and Steve’s side like you’d always been there, ready to create your own festive traditions with him.

You bought him too many presents, every year, crinkling your nose when he fussed and kissing him stupid when he handed you a pile in return. You spent the whole year listening to him, finding out more about the boy than he thought anyone would ever care to do. The new music he liked, the movie he missed at the cinema, now on video. His favourite chocolate, wrapped in shiny gold paper, the kind of sweater he liked, soft and not scratchy from that store at the mall he always liked to gaze at.

You tied everything up with a bow, made eggnog and gingerbread cookies in his otherwise empty kitchen, bare feet on the cold tiles because you’d left your slippers in his room, but it didn’t matter. You’d curl beside Steve on the sofa, tucking your freezing toes beneath his thighs.

Steve didn’t mind. Not really. Not in the slightest.

Steve didn’t mind at all.

[horrorisunknowntoyou]

Watching From The Sidelines P.3

[SAGAU X SHAPESHIFTER READER]

Synopsis: The game begins! You travel all over Teyvat, as your followers try so hard to follow your tracks. But your having too much fun talking to the locals, helping those in need and drinking!

If they can catch you, you will become their God, if not well, then they'll have to continue playing the game!

A/n: mentioned of flirting with women and men. And slight y/n x zhongli.

Tag List:

@randomnatics @the-2nd-random-kid @smokey-cat @moosieman12345 @nexylaza @stellakito @creation-magician @longppanoodle @angelkazusstuff @apple-ai @guess-i-die @jcrml @byakuren100 @moraxsimp69 @iruiji @ll-nty77 @yuyuzi-ling

------------------------------------------------------------

All the maids and house keepers were let go, but were given a large bag of mora in compensation. They were allowed to take anything they want from the manor, you were going to sell it as you had no need of it.

which all is left is you and this empty house.

Tick...Tick....Tick.....

You tapped your foot against the floor, your legs crossed sitting on an loafy chair besides a window. You had a golden pocket watch in your hand checking every minute.

"They should be here in one...two... three..."

Bang

You closed the pocket watch swiftly, placing it inside your coat pocket. Patting your chest as you hold your hands together listening the door be swinged open.

It was obvious at this open your the creator, your golden eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. Monsters and enemies not bothered by your presence. It's clear what your identity is. Especially the death of the imposter. The golden eyes they had, have transferred to you much to your displeasure.

You took a sip from a glass of champagne you poured for yourself.

Your "entourage" soon appeared Infront of you, clearly disheveled and worried. They were on their knees grasping at straws, panting like the dogs they are.

Before they could even speak you rose your hand to silence them.

"How about we play a little game...you want me to be your God. Correct? So..." You stood up watching their eyes follow you, as you make way to window hitting the notch open. " If you win this game, I'll be your God. "

They looked at each other confused.

"My Grace, our creator what game are you suggesting?" Zhongli asked.

You hummed, " A game of cat and mouse. To play a game, there must be rules. Here are mine."

* 1. No unlawful killing of innocents, even if they help me don't hurt them. That includes yourselves as well

* 2. The form I am in now will be my main one, only to make it fair for you all. However I'll still use my abilities to my advantage. Including tools.

* 3. All of you are against me and me alone. However to make it fun I'll have sometimes a "spy" on your side. A random chosen person who will give me info.

"As I stated earlier if you catch me, I'll be your God and do whatever you want me to do."

The entourage looked at each other and nod in approval.

Venti looked at you in admiration, " We agree to our Creator's rules! It's obvious this is a test for us."

Zhongli agrees with it, "Our Creator is testing our faith after our failure to noticed the imposter. We don't deserve such mercy."

You kinda stood their like "huh?" As Ei nod to the other two. " We will play our Creator's game and prove our devote loyalties."

You smiled at them, " recruit whoever you wish, there no time limit. " You walked over to the mirror.

"THE GAME STARTS IN 1...2...3! GO!" You immediately jumped out of the window, throwing a confetti bomb at them to disorient them. Gold confetti flying everywhere with dust of glitter and smoke.

The acolytes cover their mouth, shielding their eyes as Venti clear the air.

" CAPTURE THE CREATOR NO MATTER WHAT!" zhongli yells out , pointing towards the window.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You were running, you didn't know where but you just ran. You can practically feel your heart hitting against your chest, the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

God, you never felt more alive then now, this doesn't compare to stressing over exams or phone calls to doctors or setting up your college funds. Hell, not even when you transported to this world as their God.

It was euphoric.

You were practically leaping around in joy.

How can those y/n's in those SAGAU fics be so foolish. You came from the same background as those fics, but why was the world wrapped around your finger?

The strongest people in all of genshin are chasing you! But not to mercilessly kill you, but instead a game you instigated.

A game...how funny is that?

No longer am binded to an execution but game.

How silly.

You smirked at the thought of it, you took off your sun glasses placing it away as you hear the acolytes near by. You hid behind a tree shape shifting into a bird on a branch. Watching them pass by you with determination In their eyes.

Expect one.

Aether.

He spotted you, but he didn't mention it to the others. As they ran into different directions all around Teryet he stayed behind.

You shape shifted back to m/n, "Hello Aether."

He blushed looking at you in shock, " you know my name?" You simply nodded.

"Your the traveller how could I not? So Aether do you wish to be my first spy? "

He nodded almost immediately, " please! I would be honored. "

You hummed, "good, remember not the tell the others. But I have heard alot from you, so you'll be of great use to me." You pull something from your pocket placing it on his hand.

" a gift. " You mumbles as you look at him who's completely awe struck.

" your so much kinder then the imposter! They never did anything like this to me!" He says as you raised an eyebrow in intrigued.

"Is that so?... Tell me more. "

------------------------------------------------------------

Aether set a blanket down for you to sit on as he explained about the imposter. Mostly just venting out his frustrations as you listen in intrigued.

Saying that, they were so cruel and give no rewards always complaining for things to be done. Always in humane and never helped. They were greedy and power hungry. He just kept going and going.

Honestly, thank the gods the imposter was dead because how Aether explains it, you would have killed them yourself.

How dare they use your face to be cruel to the undeserving, how dare they make the weak and poor feel vulnerable.

How dare they disgrace YOUR name.

It disgusted you.

You thank him for the info but he shook his head, " I don't deserve such words I just did as you told. " You just sighed..

" of course, of course. You must return to the others or they might get suspicious of your absence. I'll call you when needed. Also tell your sister and Paimon I said hello. "

He nodded excitedly.

You stood up and nodded at him in approval as disappeared in a dust of gold confetti.

Aether sat there blushing, holding the gift dearly to him , so excited to be the Creator's first spy and vessel.

He couldn't be any more happier.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Days past

Your acolytes were taking this game very seriously.

But you? Oh you were relaxing in a random tavern, drinking a glass. Flirting with some of the women and men in the bar.

If they saw you, they would definitely be jealous.

You laughed at their jokes, as they melt under the touch of your gloved hands.

Of course just when you had the person wrapped around your finger you Venti immediately showed up. You kissed on top of the strangers hand, " sorry to cut it short but I most go. " You immediately dodged his attack, sliding under him and bolted out the door.

" Your Grace come back!" You hear faintly behind you.

Venti was still on you before Xiao came out of nowhere with his weapon.

"your getting faster!" You said as you grabbed onto a railing above you. With your agility, you swing up onto the roof and leaped onto the other building roof.

You stick your tongue out at them teasing them as you fled away.

Xiao sighs, shaking his head as Venti whines , stomping his foot.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You were helping a child down a tree, smiling at them happily playing with them. Gently setting them down, giving them a lollipop.

"Thank you mister!/miss!" The child's says smiling running off to their mother.

You waved bye, before being jumped by lumine and Paimon, immediately dropping to the floor dodging their attack. You immediately kick yourself up , brushing dirt off your coat.

Paimon flying towards you like a missile, but you immediately distracted her with candy.

She immediately took the bait and you shape shifted as a bird and flew away all giddy as lumine and Paimon argued over her taking the candy.

"How can I decline!" Paimon pouted

Lumine groans in defeat, " we were so close! "

It was cute to watch.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You chugged down another glass, laughing loudly in a party your invited to. It was dark and everyone was dancing. Attention on you as you smiled hiding behind a fan, after all you were a rich business man.

After all what's the harm I'm having fun?

You talked to other business partners and people you knew. Hell, you even met up with your assistant and she told you how things are going along. You told her you were busy with external affairs and will make her in charge and raise her salary and holidays off.

She agreed to it, thankful with the benefits she was given. " Thank you sir/ma'am, I can't thank you enough for the generosity you given me. "

" of course, I wouldn't be as successful without your help."

" I'm honored you think so." She smiles.

"go have fun, I have things to do, go enjoy yourself." You said smiling, gesturing her to talk to others.

" of course, thank you sir. " She says leaving, as you leaned against a table.

You pulled out your pocket watch, looking at the time as you step outside. Climbing on top of the roof, starring onto the night sky, looking at the moon.

You heard light footsteps behind you.

You turn around and smile seeing zhongli standing there.

You chuckled, as zhongli has his weapon in hand, he swung it at you, but you catch it. Tossing it aside, wrapping your arm around his waist pulling him close, the other hand on his hand.

"Y-Your Grace?!" He fumbled.

You can tell he's overwhelmed by this, as you hum to the tune played below. Spinning him around in the moonlight, bowing him down. He practically melts to your touch, collapsing on to his knees. You smirked as you gently set him down.

"i-i...uh..."

You blew him a kiss before teleporting away.

He just sat there dumbfounded and flustered.

----------------------------------------------------------

Besides being chased by the most powerful people in genshin. You like wandering around, you didn't need to sleep or eat a lot so it wasn't much of a issue. You liked to explore the world, seeing the shops and stores. Talking with the locals and hanging out with them, everyday was something new. You weren't stuck in some temple being worshipped. Bored out of your mind.

No, you were experiencing Teyvat as a whole. You saw it yourself with your own eyes instead of those of an acolyte.

You are witnessing it first hand the issues and solving them on your own.

Because if you were called as their God , you wouldn't have a chance to do something like this.

It was nice to do everything independently.

You got to do small thoughtless things.

Like giving money to the poor.

Giving sweets and toys to children.

Helping the elderly and unfortunate.

Giving flowers to women and men.

Doing small errands

Going on adventures.

Hanging out with locals.

Getting invited to parties.

The list goes on, and of course with your money, you can spend it luxuriously if needed. As your still running your businesses and going to meetings and such. Just because your traveling doesn't mean you stopped working.

But you know, eventually the acolytes will turn it up a notch and add more people into this game. The question is when. Because so far you had an idea what they are doing due to Aether's spy work.

So they are definitely planning something, but it depends on what.

Time will only tell.

------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus!

WFTS y/n's Playlist (slightly fem leaning)

UPSAHL - People I Don't Like

Gwen Stefani - Rich Girl

Yung Gravy - Betty

Abba - Money, Money, Money

Destiny's Child - Bills, Bills, Bills

Lady Gaga - Fashion

Macklemore & Ryan Lewis - Thrift Shop

Flo Rida - Right Round

Lady Gaga - Telephone

Bruno Mars - That's What I Like

WFTS y/n is such a chaotic person lmao.

[hmar177]

DALLAS WINSTON ONE SHOT <3

******SMUTTTTTTTYYYYY******

I'm not sure when I stopped loving Jack, but I know it crept out of the subconscious of my mind the second I saw that damn photo. I know I shouldn't feel this way, Jack is perfect. He comes from a good family, he's sweet and charming, he gets along with my friends and brings my mom flowers everytime he comes over. He was everything I could have dreamed for myself. He is who I should want. But that damn picture of Dallas Winston.

I wish he had just stayed on his side like he was supposed to.

My predicament started a few months ago when I was walking home from school. I had to stay late after my final class to run over a few plans with the committee for the dance coming up. It was my first dance that I was fully running myself and I was over the moon about it. I loved planning big events like this. My brain worked meticulously over every detail and it was so satisfying watching it all come together.

After I had finished my meeting with Sally and Davis, I found myself taking my normal walk home. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was just low enough in the sky to cast a gentle, warm glow on my face, the leaves left a quiet hum in my ears, and I found myself inhaling the glorious scent of the freshly landscaped houses as if the scent would live forever in my lungs if I breathed deep enough.

As I rounded the last corner before my street, I heard loud screeching coming from behind me. A car full of what seemed to be 4 or 5 rowdy boys came barreling down the street. Blasting loud rock music and howling like a pack of wolves, the boys came up fast. I stopped in place and watched as they came closer. They slowed up ever so slightly as they passed me, giving me a good chance to glance into the vehicle. I didn't recognize them, but I did recognize the driver. Dallas Winston.

With his sunglasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose and a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth, he held my eyes as he cruised by. I can't tell if I imagined it or not, but I thought I caught a hint of a smirk on his face before he punched the accelerator once more and took off before I could even register the entire exchange. It almost felt like I had just hallucinated that whole sequence.

What were a bunch of greasers doing over here on the west side? Not that I ever had anything against them, I just figured they would want to stay clear of a bunch of privileged, snotty folks who are constantly after their demise.

I had never met Dallas before, but I knew bits and pieces about him. Grew up with a rough homelife, dropped out of school, and even wound up in prison for a while. Everyone in this town saw Dallas and all the greasers as less than. I saw them as kids who just had shit luck when it came to the parents department.

I knew some greasers. There were quite a few in my grade, like Sodapop Curtis. He was one of the sweetest kids I ever met. Had a heart of gold, and a boatload of love for some girl Sandy he always seemed to mention. Soda dropped out a few months ago though after his parents both died tragically in a car accident. Another example of kids with shit luck and no ones around this town to sympathize for them.

Later that night, I found myself sitting at my desk trying to work on my short story. I was assigned by my English teacher to write a short story loosely based on a truly exciting and invigorating time in my life that made me feel alive. The only problem was I have never had an experience in my life that could remotely be described as such.

Everyday, I wake up, go to school, go to event committee meetings, or to my internship at the local newspaper, The Tulsa Chronicles. After all that, I either come home and do homework, or just hangout at the drive in with my friends and my boyfriend Jack. Nothing about my routine is special or interesting. It never changes and I don't see it altering anytime soon. In a town with so little to do, it is quite the tall order to ask us to find something interesting to write about.

I want to be a writer some day, so when I can't complete a simple short story for school, it horrifies me that I may be chasing after a hopeless dream. I intern at the Tulsa Chronicles in hope of it being a good addition to my college applications, but for now I am just helping with the printing and shipping of the papers. One of the editors told me if I had a writing piece that I was proud of, I could pass it along to them and they could give it a read and see if there were any opportunities for me to write something for the paper soon. I was hoping this short story could be that piece that I was proud of, but that is looking like a pipe dream now.

After staring at my blank paper for what feels like hours, I decide tonight is not the night that I am going to find any inspiration, so I turn out the lights and climb into bed. Maybe my dreams will inspire me. Maybe I'll dream of those greasers, flying through neighborhoods and screaming, sounding like they are high on the freedom that life has to offer. I want a taste of what they are having.

The next day is the same as all the other ones, not to anyone's surprise. I woke up, went to school, and made my way over to the Tulsa Chronicles. When I walked in, the newsroom was buzzing much more than normal. In a town as boring as Tulsa, there is not a ton of news to report, so when the newsroom was like this, something major must have happened.

“Rose, get to the printer stat. We need to start loading up these boxes now!” my boss Susan yelled from across the room.

“On it!” I let her know.

As I made my way to the printer, pages were flying out faster than I have ever seen before. This must be a big story if they have the printers working this hard.

Page after page, I watched them stack into a nice pile until the cover page finally flew out.

It read, “Delinquent youths turn heroes after daring fire rescue”

Right next to the title, I saw their faces, Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Caid, and Dallas Winston.

Pony and Johnny's pictures didn't shock me. Cherry Valance told me a few days ago how sweet and kind they had been to her at the drive in and they always seemed like kind approachable kids. But cherry had also mentioned that Pony and Johnny had protected her from, Dallas Winston

Dallas had always seemed so cold and foreboding. Even his smirk from yesterday's drive by left a chill down my spine. It wasnt that I was afraid of him, but Dallas Winston wasn't someone you just assumed you could become fast friends with. You had to earn his loyalty to be seen with him. His picture being tagged alongside this story seemed extremely out of character. Dallas had his family of greasers and he had himself. There wasn't much else he was looking after. Especially not strangers in some random church fire.

I picked up the front page and looked at it very closely. Part of me didn't want to assume like the rest of this town that this was a mistake, but a bigger part of me couldn't help but think this wasn't true. Dallas Winston saving children he didn't know? Dallas didn't walk by a child in the street without trying to terrify them in some way. Something isn't adding up. Were we all utterly wrong about him? I couldn't help but just stare at his picture, trying to see him run into that burning church. Coming out covered in ash, carrying a couple kids in his arms and placing them down gently before rushing back inside to save more. I felt a twinge in my chest. Something I haven't felt before.

“Rose! Quit daydreaming and pack up those papers. The delivery service will be here in 20 to take those boxes out. They better be filled!” Susan yelled.

“Yes of course.” I replied, suddenly taken out of my temporary, and odd trance.

As I loaded each paper into the boxes, my eyes lingered a little too long on Dallas’s face as each paper piled onto the next. After what must have been hundreds of papers, I “accidentally” misplaced one in my bag sitting next to me. I don't know why I took it. I would surely be getting one of these papers delivered to my house within the next day or so, but part of me wanted to just have this for me. I also didn't want to explain to my dad why I needed his morning paper, the one I had helped package and ship out and have had access to for over a day.

After loading the last box and as a sudden calmness came over the newsroom, it was finally time to head home. I grabbed my bag, making sure the paper was tucked in enough so that it wouldn't be seen, said goodnight to the staff, and made my way out.

As I walked out of the building, I looked up to see Jack leaned up against his shiny new sports car that his parents just bought him as a good job for making the basketball team present. It sounds ridiculous and it is ridiculous. When you come from money like Jack's family, there are very few occasions that don't involve an illustrious gift such as the sports car he now leans against.

I say all this with complete understanding that I come from a family very similar to Jacks. I am privileged and I know that, but I don't see that as a reason to act any differently towards others. Why should the number that's on my fathers paychecks determine whether I am a better person than others? It doesn't. But people like Jack feel that it does. But Jack makes me smile, and my mother hasn't shut up about those lilies he brought her this past weekend when he was over for dinner. Who could hate Jack, right?

“Hey there honey. How was the journalism world today?” Jack says with a smile as he opens the passenger side door for me to get in. Jack picks me up whenever he's in the area and he knows I'm here. It's very sweet of him. Another reason to love him, right?

“Busy. There was a big story today so there were a lot more papers to print and ship.” I told him.

“Really! What was the story?” He asked.

I hesitated for a second.

“Oh I don't remember. I didn't really get a chance to read it. Too busy getting them into boxes.” I explained. I don't know why I lied. I think a part of me felt guilty about the things I felt and thought as I looked at Dallas’s picture the past few hours and another part of me wanted to keep Dallas to myself for a bit longer because by morning everyone would be talking about him. More people would be picturing him as this grand hero, and I still wanted to be the only one who saw him that way.

The rest of the ride, we sat in comfortable silence. That was the best way to describe me and Jack's relationship. Comfortable. Our parents set us up freshman year of highschool and we fell into the narrative with ease. He was cute and popular. It made sense why I should want him, so I convinced myself I did. And it worked for a while. A long while now. But as we come towards the midway point of Junior year, I'm not too sure how much longer I can convince myself that Jack is what I want. But what would be my reason for leaving him? He was too nice to my parents? He made one too many jokes that made all my friends laugh? He was too popular? Too athletic? On paper he was perfect. Trying to tell anyone that my time with Jack was coming to an end would make me sound like the biggest fool. So I just stayed. There was no reason to leave, even though I wanted there to be so badly.

We pulled up to the front of my house and he came around and opened my door. I thanked him and looked up to my house. The big, beautiful white home sat on top of the hill at the top of my street with a huge porch that wrapped around the whole house, and perfectly painted blue shutters. It was truly out of a magazine and I was eternally grateful for being able to be raised in a home as beautiful as this one. The dining room light shined bright and I knew my parents were in there waiting for me to arrive so we could have dinner as a family. Jack took my hand and walked me to the door. My mother opened it as we took the final step onto the porch.

“Jack!’ My mother said, “How kind of you to bring Rose home. Won't you come in and join us for dinner.”

A pit immediately formed in my stomach.

“I'd love-” Jack started before I cut him off.

“I'm actually not feeling very well so I think I am just gonna go to bed.” I quickly sputtered out. Facing Jack I said, “Maybe another night.”

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing up the stairs and straight into my room before anyone else could say anything. That was definitely rude of me, but the thought of having to sit next to Jack for the next hour, knowing I smuggled home a paper with the only intention of staring at the man on the cover made me extremely nauseous. I may not feel for Jack the way I used to, but I wouldn't be disrespectful, and if I was gonna be disrespectful, I wasn't gonna allow him to eat dinner with me and my family as if everything was fine and dandy.

I sat down on my bed and immediately removed the paper from my bag. It wasn't often that I had strange outbursts such as the one I just had downstairs, so I knew my parents would leave me be for a while. I took the paper, and got comfortable. Reading the entire article front and back and learning that what the title states was indeed true, I took the cover and discarded the rest of the pages. Holding Dallas’s picture up, I thought about the words in the article and how they described the man I was looking at. Bold. Courageous. Brave. Not words I would initially think of when I heard the name Dallas Winston.

His face held hard lines in his jaw and forehead. He had strong dark features and striking eyes. He was beautiful in a rugged and tired way. A way that you never see here in the west side neighborhoods. I was mesmerized by his stern stare. I wanted to know everything about him and I wanted to know it now. I wanted to spend a day with him and learn what it took to earn his trust. To earn a glance from those haunting eyes. The way he looked at me as he rode past me in his car yesterday felt like a shot of espresso. It jolted something awake inside of me. I needed another hit. I craved it.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my body was up and at my desk. I was opening my drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. I slowly and carefully cut around his face making sure not to accidentally trim anything important off, because truthfully it was all important. He was important and I needed to know why.

I held the small picture of Dallas Winston between my fingers, holding as close to the edge as possible, with fear I might smudge it, and I grabbed a piece of tape. Walking over to my bed, I taped the picture on my wall right next to where my head lays when I sleep. I could hide it during the day behind my pillows when I made my bed. It was just for me. He was my new interest. He was my excitement that I had been looking for, I just had to find a way to make these little daydreams something real. As I crawled into bed with the image of dark raven eyes flashing through my mind, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, Jack, my parents, and Tulsa all feeling like a distant memory rather than my reality.

It could have been 3 hours or 3 minutes, but before I knew it, I was woken up by the sound of my desk lamp falling to the ground and a soft breeze coming from my window that I was sure was closed when I got into bed. I shot up like an arrow and reached for the lamp on my bedside table, flicking it on as fast as I could. As the light flooded the room, I was immediately met with the eyes I saw as I lulled myself to sleep. I had to be imagining him right? Dallas Winston stood right there in the middle of my bedroom, standing at least 6 foot 2, drowning in his leather jacket, with his signature blue jeans, and a black eye that was shining through even in the dim lighting.

“Dallas?” I began before he ran over to my bed and clasped his hand around my mouth and the other one slid behind my head keeping me quiet and still.

Slowly he shook his head as if to tell me, now is not a time for talking. I assumed he was scared my parents would hear him, which I am now realizing never even crossed my mind. My parents would lose their minds if they strolled into my room right now to find a greaser, Dallas Winston worst of all, standing in my bedroom at, I flashed my eyes to my clock, 2am. But my parents never even entered my head, nothing really entered my head. Not fear, not my parents, not jack. All I could think about was that incredible shot of adrenaline I felt when I saw him, and coming up with a plan to make him stay as long as possible so I didn't have to stop this feeling.

All of a sudden I heard sirens, and red and blue lights flash past the house at a high speed. I looked up at Dallas who was looking out the window to make sure the coast was clear. His hands were still firmly placed around my head. I studied his face while he wasn't paying attention to me, just as I was doing last night. But this was ten times better. The picture didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead from running I assumed, and his hair drooped gently in front of his eyes, giving him a rugged elvis look. I could stare at him for hours and not get bored for a second.

Once he saw that he was in the clear, he slowly brought his attention back to me. He studied my face for a second, a small shimmer of something in his eyes but I don't know what it was. After a moment he brought his eyes around my room, studying the pictures and posters on my walls that I'm sure I'll be embarrassed about later, to the books on my nightstand, and with another flick of his gaze, he was locked in on something behind me. He stared long and hard and I couldn't think of what it could be. He slowly came inclose, his lips right next to my ear.

“Well I'll be damned. Looks like I have a fan.” He whispered, his warm breath hitting my neck.

My eyes widened, the picture. Dallas WInston was looking at the picture of him I cut out and taped next to my bed.

“Now tell me darling, if I remove my hands, can you stay quiet and not let anyone know I am here? Because I do have a few questions about this I'd like to ask.” He said quietly with a shit eating grin on his face, so good, that it could seduce the Queen of England.

I slowly nod. Why am I not terrified right now? A known felon is standing in my room right now in the middle of the night. He snuck in my window in an attempt to run from the cops. I am harboring a criminal right now as we speak and all I can think about is how I can end things with Jack so that this lasts forever.

“Good Girl.” He says softly, then slowly takes his hands off my mouth, immediately missing the feel of his touch. God I was so fucked.

He pulled over my desk chair and took a seat right in front of me, our knees almost touching. He held the picture between his fingers looking at it, then up to me.

“So tell me, what's a nice girl like you doing hanging up pictures of bad Dallas Winston on her pretty pink bedroom walls?” He asks.

I think I stopped breathing. What was I supposed to say? There was no real explanation for why I hung up the picture other than I was chasing a feeling I couldn't even name. I stared blankly trying to say anything, trying to think of something to say that would make him as interested in me as I was in him.

“Well?” He pushed after I sat there stunned for I don't even know how long.

“Uhh, I, Uh….. I think I want to feel what you feel.” I said. Shit. That didn't even make any sense. He for sure thought I was crazy. He looked at me puzzled.

“Honey, the last thing you want is to feel what I feel.” He gave a small laugh that created small needles in the back of my throat and moved to get up.

“I want to feel alive. I want to be reckless and have fun. You have fun, don't you?” I said quickly, anything coming out of my mouth was just a hidden plea for him to stay.

He stopped in his tracks, and looked back over to me. The moon casting a soft glow on his hard features. The shimmer in his eyes came back for a second. He slowly sat back down.

“Oh, I have fun. But the kind of fun I have would give a soc like you nightmares.” He said with venom on his tongue. I couldn't tell if he was threatening me or daring me to push him more.

“Show me.” I whispered. Dally smirked at me pondering my dare for a split second, before he slid his switchblade knife out of his pocket and softly dragged the blade from my fingertips, up my arm, and across my collar bone. Every hair on my body stood straight up. My breath hitched ever so slightly and he moved the blade to my neck and held it there.

Part of me was truly scared, and another part of me felt that there was something a bit performative too. Dallas Winston wasn't going to hurt me. I knew that for a fact. He leaned in close, taking a strand of my hair in his other hand, and brought his lips to my ear.

“Are you having fun yet?” He said. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smirk in his words.

I backed away so I could meet his eyes. A fire raged behind them. I would give anything to look inside his brain, even for just a moment. I smiled at him and I could see the excitement grow. I don't know why, but I liked what was happening. I liked the uncertainty of what he was going to say and do, and I liked that I trusted him for no reason at all.

“I think I like you more than I should.” I say. I don't know why I said that. I wasn't even embarrassed that I did. It was like being close to him unlocked a new version of myself that I didn't know existed. A version of myself that had confidence and a desire to push the limits. I felt alive.

“Do you like me more than your boyfriend?” He grinned.

“Do you want me to?” I challenged. He grinned and his gaze flicked down to my lips for a moment before it returned to my eyes. The knife at my throat is all but forgotten.

“Let's make a deal. If I can kiss better than a soc, you have to go out with me.” He said.

“And if you can't?” I said, barely a whisper.

“Oh honey, there are very few things I can't do.” He said leaning in and attaching his lips to mine. I felt the knife hit the bed next to me as I melted into his kiss and his hands wrapping around my face.

It was soft and slow for all but a moment, before I knew it he was laying me down on the bed and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I guess it wasn't forcing it, more like me waiting for it and craving it.

My hands roamed his body, feeling his toned muscles through his thin black tee shirt. I slid his leather jacket off, as his hands found their way under my shirt. He planted his hand on my stomach and pushed me down to the mattress keeping me in place. A breeze gently floated in from the window, and it made me hyper aware of the slickness that was now coating my thighs.

His mouth moved to my cheek and then to my neck. I clasp one of my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. He placed his thigh between my legs allowing me to move my hips to get some relief.

God what was I doing? How did it come to me grinding on Dallas Winston in my bed at 2 in the morning. I couldn't bring myself to stop though. It was all too much. Too good.

“How am I doing sweetheart?” He said in my ear before he brought his face back up to look me in the eyes. “I think the tears in your eyes are telling me that I'm gonna see you tomorrow night.”

I moaned into his shoulder, as I felt his hand trail down my abdomen and underneath my waistband. He teased there for a moment, smirking down at me waiting for me to stop him, but there was no way in hell I wanted this to ever end. I gave him a quick nod before he cupped me over my underwear. He quickly covered my mouth with his own as he knew I was about to moan. He chuckled softly into the kiss.

“My God Dallas. Oh my god” I moaned into his mouth.

“I am a God, aren't I?” He growled before sliding his fingers underneath my underwear and inside of me. The pleasure was so overwhelming, that I bit into his shoulder to stop myself from crying out. He groaned from the pain, but I knew he liked it.

As his fingers pumped in and out of me, he slowly started to grind himself into my hip. He was hard. I felt him poking through his tight jeans, begging to be let out.

“Dallas. I want you.” I begged. I need more of him. I need him closer.

He removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty. I looked up at him and he immediately placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking me off of them. I let out a moan. He was trailing kisses down my chest, then my stomach, never taking his eyes off of me.

“I know baby, I know. Not yet though.” He assured me. “I just need a little taste first.”

He grabbed the waistband of my shorts and my underwear and slowly pulled them down, never stopping his trail of kisses that now led down my leg.

“So beautiful.” He whispered to himself as he was now eye level with my core. “Spread your legs for me baby.” I do what I'm told. “That's it. Good Girl. Now lay back and let me worship you.”

Dallas wastes absolutely no time diving right in and taking all of me into his mouth. He licks from top to bottom and back again before taking my clit into his mouth and sucking. “So sweet.” He moans into me.

I have to grab the pillow on my bed and cover my face because the scream I almost let out would have surely woken up the entire neighborhood. Dallas’s name on the tip of my tongue. The name about to escape with every moan that shoots through me, which would not only let the town know I was in the middle of the most erotic moment of my life, but also it was Dallas Winston that was buried between my legs.

I feel one of Dallas’s hands remove from my thigh and I look down to see what he was doing. I look down to see Dallas’s mouth still attached to my clit, but his eyes boring into mine with the most seductive look I have ever seen in my life. Without ever looking away from me, Dallas removes his mouth, now just an inch away from me, and takes a little gold foil packet out of his pocket and takes it straight to his mouth. He rips the foil open with his teeth and slides the condom out.

He stands up. His 6 foot 2, god-like stance, looming over me, made me feel so small and helpless on my bed. God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall right now, wanting to see what I might look like. My shirt pushed up, shorts and underwear thrown about the room somewhere, My hair probably a mess, and tears staining my face as Dallas Winston stands over me, slowly unbuckling his belt.

He smirks down at me and he pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing his erection and my god it was big. I honestly didn't know if it was gonna fit inside of me. Right on cue, as if he could read my mind, Dallas says, “Don't be scared darling, you can handle it.”

He goes to put on the condom, but I sit up quickly, grabbing his hand, stopping him. “Can I do it?” I ask him. He looks down at me with hooded eyes and a smirk that could kill.

“Fuck yeah you can.” he says in a breathy tone as he hands me the condom. I take the condom out of his hand and hesitantly grab his dick. A low grumble comes from his throat as I give it a little pump before rolling on the condom.

The second it's on, he pushes me on my back, and comes down on top of me. He starts to position himself at my entrance and looks me in the eyes. “Baby, as much as I want this to last forever, I'm not gonna last very long.” He leans in kissing me hard and chuckles against my lips and I smile at his words. Yeah, me neither.

I take a deep breath and he thrusts inside of me. I clasp my arms around his neck and hug him as close to me as possible. He is big and it hurts so good. I bite into his shoulder again trying to distract myself from the pain, but also from the fact that my orgasm is seconds away and he just got inside of me.

He whimpers in my ear as I kiss his neck profusely. He finds a steady pace that has me borderline drooling. “God Dallas, don't stop. It feels so good.” I barely get out because I can barely catch my breath. I shoot one of my hands out and feel something sharp hit my finger. I look down to see Dallas’s knife still sitting next to us on the bed. It must have nicked my finger. Before I can register what's happened, Dallas takes my bloodied finger and sucks it into his mouth while holding my gaze. His eyes were hooded, and looking drunk off sex.

“Come for me baby. Come on. I know you're there. Show me how good I make you feel.” He begs me. Between his words, and my finger in his mouth, I'm there in a second. Burying my face into his neck, my orgasm rips through me harder than it ever has before. My nails digging into his bicep and a drip of sweat going down my forehead. Dallas still thrusts into me hard and fast for a moment more before he takes my lips into his and I feel his dick twitch as he spills into the condom.

He lays on top of me, breathing heavily in my ear for what feels like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. He slowly removed himself from me, then pushed up so he was hovering over me again. He smiled down at me as I grabbed his face with my hands, pulling him down to kiss me. His kiss was so gentle, the word love flew through my head, but it was only a fraction of a thought.

I brushed my finger over his cheek bone, before noticing my finger was still bleeding. I brought it to my face, inspecting the cut. It wasn't deep at all. Just a knick. Dallas took my finger to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the cut. Adab of blood coating his lip, only for a second before he licked it off.

“What time are you free tomorrow?” He asks as he nuzzles his face into my neck, no doubt leaving more hickeys.

“Maybe around 7?” I told him. “I just have to go break up with Jack, and then I'm all yours.” I giggled lightly. He came back up and looked at me with the most serious expression I saw all night.

“All mine.” He smiled.

***hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!! DALLAS WINSTON I LOVE YOU***