#you can go ahead and practice by blocking me

[woodlaflababab]

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- Sincerely, A Zukaang Shipper

Every time I get recommended a Zuko x Aang post, I get severely upset

And then I check the comments to see if anyone will point out how Aang’s 12 and Zuko’s 16, only for NOBODY to be doing it and instead all the comments are like “OMG SO CUTE!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🤭🤭🤭🤭😍😍😍😍”

YK what I think is cute? You being on a governmental watchlist 😜

[mostly-imagines]

At Least I’m Not Alone at the Wake

jason todd x fem!reader

aka how jason feels safe even when he feels like he’s dying

HEY today we’re going to play a game where we practice reblogging fics: if you read this and like it—reblog!! ie, if you like and dont reblog i might block bc im getting sick of the lack of decorum

warnings: angst w comfort throughout

It took less than thirty seconds for the silence of the night to drift into sounds of shrieks echoing off the buildings along the street. The sharp contrast had you and Jason bolting upright on the couch, ears on alert. It only took a few seconds more of listening for you to realize you’re not hearing shouting—it’s laughter. Maniacal, uncontrolled laughter. 

There’s a beat as you both freeze upon the implication, the unsettling realization dropping in on you. You barely have a moment to process it before Jason’s pushing up from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

“Close the window,” he grumbles.

You blink as you register his words before jumping up to do as told, quickly sliding the frame shut and locking it. He returns soon with an armful of towels in hand, and you stand back as he stuffs a couple along the window sill with rough movements. He goes throughout the apartment, doing the same to the other windows. He rounds back to the living room window, looking down at the street with a heavy look on his face. 

You trust that the towels will do their job in preventing the laughing gas from getting in the apartment, but they’re unable to block out the bellows of hysteria.

He backs away from the window, letting the living room wall hold his weight. You both listen to the harrowing echoes with still bodies. 

You watch him, waiting for a reaction. You don’t mean to, but you know you’re looking at him like he’s a loaded spring. You try not to, you know how much he hates how his family does that to him, but fuck, it’s hard not to worry about him.

When Joker incidents have come up, they’ve usually been something you’re able to ignore or even get ahead of and drive out of the city. But this is raucous and chaotic, clearly enough to shut down the city from the inside. Besides, Jason would be booking it out of here if he thought there was any chance of a clean getaway in this.

But you know he’s got no interest in inserting himself in anything Joker related, especially something so destabilizing.

While you know Jason’s family cares about him, of course they do, but you’ve noticed they sometimes put Gotham’s needs first and his second. So the severity of this attack is concerning for you for two reasons.

“Will they…” you shuffle, “Will they need you?”

He’s quick to answer, voice firm. “No.” A long moment passes before he adds on, quieter, “They won’t want me out there.”

You nod to yourself, trying to relax your body. You being on edge isn’t going to help him.

You watch as his head thumps against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He’s tough—you know he’s tough. He can withstand a hell of a lot more than you’ll probably ever even know. But even for Gotham, this is a lot. And even for someone who hasn’t been through what Jason has, the ringing repetitions of laughter are maddening. You wonder if this is what the Joker hears in his head. You wonder if this is what Jason heard.

The intensity of the laughing increases, more people likely becoming exposed to the gas. You think you can hear it in one of your neighbor’s apartments too.

He thumps his head against the drywall again, hands clenching at his sides. It takes one more forceful thud for you to move over to him, cradling your hand to the side of his head, holding him still. He lets you, though he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay,” you say softly, stroking his hair. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?” Normally you’d try for a bath to calm him instead but you hope the waterfall from the shower might be enough to drown out the noise.

He takes a second to respond, letting your hand bear the weight of his head. “Yeah.”

His voice is splintered though, and his shoulders droop as he stands up fully. He waits to move until you start to lead him, flinching at every spike of laughter. You reach back and take his hand, giving it two squeezes. He squeezes your hand back but doesn’t loosen his grip.

As you enter the bathroom he wastes no time getting straight to the shower nozzle and turning it on. You press the door shut behind you, sealing out a decent portion of the chaos. You decide against turning the overhead light on, opting instead to let the small pink-shaded lamp provide a warm glow that you can easily maneuver throughout the shadows in. You figure he needs a more tranquil atmosphere than the harsh white light the bathroom ceiling can provide.

You turn to him in time to catch him pulling his shirt up harshly, movements jerked and impatient.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm, “Hey.”

He pauses his actions, eyes on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, but he understands your objection regardless. You remove your touch and he peels his shirt off slower, kinder to himself. 

You wait to make sure he continues this method with the rest of his clothes before you start to remove yours.

The downpour of water on the tiles does it’s intended job in creating your own little sanctum away from the noise. You climb into the shower after him, standing in the stray mist sprays that made their way past him. The bits of water that do manage their way to you are hot—not scalding, but hot enough that you know his chest is going to start getting numb very soon standing in front of the stream like this. 

You trace lines over the muscles of his back, outlining them and every little indent of a scar. When you run out of canvas on his back you move onto his arms, right then left.

It’s not until you trace down his wrist that you realize his head is angled down. You don’t need to be standing in front of him to know that his focus is zeroed in on his scar and you’re not sure how long it's been that way. Too long, in any case.

“Jay,” you say so softly that the water nearly drowns you out. “Will you look at me, please?”

He does turn to you, slowly, but he doesn’t look up.

You hold his face in your hands, nudging him to look up at you. He looks tired, drained. 

You know he has to hear that laughter in a different way than you do. It’s uncomfortable and frightening for you, but for him, it’s layers upon layers of the sound he heard while he was being beaten to death. And even beyond that horrible trauma, the reminder of it brings forth every memory of what happened afterwards, not to mention the heavy baggage you know he feels over being here at all. And you can see it all mulling behind his eyes.

“You know I love you,” you tell him with sincerity. His gaze stays heavy and you can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold the eye contact.

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, catching his bottom lip slightly. Your next kiss meets his lips fully. You have to push up on your toes a little bit but he does the work of meeting you halfway. It’s a slow, intimate exchange, as fluid and serene as breathing.

“I love all of you,” you murmur against his lips. You let your hands fall to his chest, resting as gently as they can over his pecs. “Everything about you.”

You kiss the top of his Y scar, trailing down soft pecks to where it forks off. You feel his shoulders sag a bit, tension forcing its way out of him. You lean down to continue your kisses down the vertical line marking his abdomen, your hands lightly following in your wake.

He says your name painfully, like he’s begging you to stop. You’ll give him partial reprieve, taking his hands in yours and kissing his scarred knuckles. It’s his instinct to push affection away, you know that, but you also know that he needs it. That’s why he doesn’t stop you now—he knows he needs it—it’s just a lot for him all at once, emotionally. Which is why he gives no warning before he picks you up by your thighs and pulls you close. 

He’s got you a full head higher than him and he uses the difference to hide his face in your neck. Sometimes he feels like that’s the only place he can go. He maneuvers you around so your back is pressed up against the wall as you hold each other tight.

You stay in there like that until the water runs cold, and then some. You have to nudge him a bit into setting you back down then, but he does, letting you collect and wrap the both of you in towels. The second the water turns off you can hear the cackling through the walls. 

As you return to the bedroom, he only bothers to pull on a pair of boxers before collapsing his weight onto the mattress. The lack of layers won’t help him any, but you know why he did it.

He can’t always look after himself the way he should—he disregards his own needs and has trouble even thinking of what could help him. You’ve developed a mind for it though—for him—and you know that being exposed and vulnerable like this isn’t going to help him calm down. He prefers being covered up when he’s stressed, it gives him more security, you think.

You open up the dresser and dig through for his most comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. He takes them from you, but he looks remiss at the thought of exerting anymore energy right now, so you help him tug on the clothes, successfully blocking out the now icy air from the AC. 

Once he’s fully clothed he pulls you forward to sit on his lap. You stumble a bit on the way but he compensates by holding you very tight, not giving your body any option to fall. His grip on you tells you that he’s not concerned with you getting dressed too, which you’re perfectly willing to oblige.

You have to force him to let you break away a little bit so you can reach over to the nightstand and grab your phone and earbuds.

“Movie or music?”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head once at the end of your sentence. You take that to mean music and open up your playlist on your phone, handing him the headphones.

There’s a harsh spike in the hysterics outside, mixed with what sounds like screams, and it has Jason flinching hard. You think you can see tears welled in his eyes as he fumbles to get the headphones in his ears. He takes the phone from you and picks the first song he sees and turns the volume up, up, up.

You shift yourself around so that you’re laying back against the pillows, giving him room to lay down over your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist with a firm grip. You pull the hood up over his head, but keep your hands woven underneath, threading through his hair. 

His cheek mushes against your bare stomach, and with the way he’s laying, you’re sure the earbuds are digging uncomfortably into his ear. He makes no effort to move in any case. You can hear the song playing word for word, and while the noise exposure concerns you, if there was ever a time to let it go, it would be now.

You’re both wrapped up nicely in the blankets and you can only see the tip of his nose and a few strands of ivory hair strewn past his forehead. Despite all the snug layers, he shakes a bit under your touch.

He falls asleep before the problem outside gets wrapped up, and you turn down the music. Not all the way, just enough that he can rest in peace. 

After a while the giggles die down and aside from a few first responder sirens, things get quiet again. About twenty minutes later, Nightwing ducks in through your window and scares the hell out of you. The interaction does not, however, wake Jason up, which is how you know tonight took a very heavy toll on him.

Even though the lights aren’t on in your bedroom you slide down from the pillows a bit more and let the blanket and Jason drown your chest out from visibility.

Nightwing gives you a silent, if not awkward, wave and scans over Jason. Even in the dark can see the worry in his eyes. He looks back up at you and throws up a questioning thumbs up with a tilt of his head.

You nod and he nods back slowly as he takes one more look at his brother before hopping out the window.

You peer down at Jason and brush his curls back gently. His hold on you tightens just a bit as he turns in his sleep.

reblog or get out seriously

[moonstruckme]

Hi, I love the emt!marauders you post, I was wondering if u could write one that the reader has a chronic disease that involves getting sore when it's cold? Idk how to explain, I have lupus, and when it's cold, my joints tend to get sensitive and sore...so something with fluff/comfort, pls?

Thank you for requesting my love <3

cw: reader has unspecified chronic pain that flares up in the cold, I relied on the internet to write this so if anything seems wrong/inaccurate please let me know

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 887 words

Sirius is furious with himself for not checking the weather report. It’s so rare that you all have time off work on the same day, it’s possible you’d gotten ahead of yourselves in the excitement, but the sudden onset of winter wasn’t part of anyone’s plan. Even in Remus’ coat and tucked under James’ arm, you’ve gone quiet and withdrawn. Sirius can practically see you cringing with every step you take down the sidewalk. 

The other boys are similarly concerned.

“Let’s pop in here,” James suggests, maneuvering you all towards a bookstore. 

“Jamie,” you say, voice all sweetness even when it’s threaded through with exhaustion, “don’t go in somewhere you don’t want to just for me.” 

“Doll, I know how it might seem that way,” says Sirius, “but despite popular misconception, James actually can read.” 

You crack a smile, though it looks like it costs you. “Right, thanks, but we’re supposed to be out doing things we all like. If we went into a bookstore, you two would just end up sitting somewhere while Remus and I looked around.” 

“I like seeing you comfortable,” James says, somewhat poutily, “and I like buying you things. A bookstore is sounding rather enjoyable right now.” 

“Don’t you want to go inside?” Remus touches his knuckles gently underneath the butterfly-shaped rash on your cheeks that’s worsening due to the sun and cold. It’s not a terribly frigid day but the wind makes it worse, and however you try to act your boyfriends can see the toll it’s taking on you. “Even if it’s just for a while, it’ll be good to give yourself a break.” 

“Rem’s cold too,” Sirius says, noting the tension in the other boy’s posture now that he’s given up his coat, “aren’t you, lovely? C’mon, I know where we can go.” 

You don’t seem to have it in you to protest as Sirius leads you all down the block to the coffee shop around the corner. The heat is blasting inside. He finds you a table away from the door, where the cold breeze coming in can’t reach you and the whirring of the coffee grinders is less deafening. James insists on buying you each a warm beverage and a sweet (only you and Remus protest this; Sirius doesn’t know why you bother). 

“My poor girl,” Sirius murmurs, holding your frozen hands carefully in his. Remus’ coat pockets have done an insufficient job protecting them. Sirius devotes himself to rubbing warmth into each finger. 

“I think my drink would do as good a job of warming them up,” you say amusedly. 

“As good? I’m insulted.” 

“You know she really should be stretching her joints herself, love,” says Remus. 

“I do know,” Sirius replies primly, “thank you very much. It’s only that I’m very selfish.” 

Remus hums into his tea. “Selfish enough to let her drink go cold.” 

Sirius relents and lets you pick up your mug. You squeeze his hands thankfully before letting go. 

The windows at the front of the shop are foggy. It’s not cold enough yet for frost around the edges, but the mist gives the bustling street a blurred, wintry look, like the four of you are encapsulated in a warm snow globe scene, unmoving and separate from the outside world. Sirius finds it rather peaceful. 

“Did anyone bring ibuprofen?” James asks. 

You cringe sheepishly. “No, sorry. I forgot it at home.” 

“Don’t be sorry, lovie.” James palms the back of your neck, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Any of us could’ve thought of it. We’ll stop somewhere and grab a bottle.” 

“It never hurts to have extra,” Remus agrees before you can argue. 

“Okay,” you say, voice gone soft as it often does when you feel your boyfriends are taking too much notice of you. Sirius doesn’t understand your aversion to this in the slightest. “Thanks.” 

“It’s ungodly freezing out,” Sirius complains. “I move that we make a coffee shop stop every two blocks.” 

James’ face lights. “It could be like appetizer hopping—”

“But with pastries,” Sirius finishes. 

You don’t immediately argue, a promising sign. Remus appears to be warming to the idea as well. “We’d have to pace ourselves a bit more,” he points out, looking at your table cramped with plates and saucers. “Maybe at each place we pick one thing to share.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Suit yourself. I’m not splitting a muffin into four pieces and eating only one.” 

James looks as though he agrees, but he only says cheerily, “We’ll figure it out as we go. Does that sound good?” 

He poses the question to everyone, but they all know he’s really only asking you. Remus and Sirius give their assent quickly and you shrink a bit in your seat, embarrassed. 

“If it really doesn’t sound too inconvenient for you guys.” You lift one shoulder in a shrug. Sirius thinks with satisfaction that the motion looks easier than it might have when you first came in from the cold. “Then yeah, I’m alright with it.” 

“Oh, yes,” Sirius teases, “an afternoon spent enjoying coffee and pastries with the three most fetching people on the continent. I should really rethink this, it may be too inconvenient.” 

“Prick.” James elbows him and leans over to wrap an arm around you protectively, but your smile blooms, and that’s all Sirius wanted in the end.

[wonderjanga]

Was wondering about for your post 'captain is a terrible dad' if junior somehow convinces the league through the power of misunderstanding that 'billy' is the newest actual baby of the family? Like maybe tim is talking to junior about his younger siblings(damian stabbing him or smth), and Junior tells him about Billy and since they never heard about him before they think marvel just had another baby? Even worse if you also include the au where people think Marvel and Adam are exes and they think Marvel got close to him again?

Ever since Tim learned about Marvel having a new kid, he’s been thinking about it nonstop. It’s been bugging him and he really wants to ask about it. The only problem? Every time he’s tried to approach Marvel to ask about it, something has question-blocked him.

Robin!Tim: “Marvel, can we talk?”

Marvel: “Sure, what’s up?” *smiles*

Robin!Tim: “Well-”

Marvel: *comm rings and he realizes it’s an emergency* “Sorry, I gotta go. We’ll talk later right?” *flies off*

Eventually, after a week of this, Tim finally got his chance in one of the watchtower’s kitchens.

Robin!Tim: “Marvel , can I ask you something?”

Marvel: “Sure, go ahead.” *stirring something in a bowl*

Tim had spent the past week practicing how the conversation would go, yet didn’t even think about how he would start it.

Robin!Tim: *just decides to rip off the band-aid* “Uh… Why do you keep having kids if you hate them?”

Marvel: *slowly stops stirring his bowl so he stop and stare incredulously*

Robin!Tim: “It’s- It’s the little things. Like the little looks of disgust when they say something a kid their age would say. Or like the blatant disregard you have for their safety. Or the threats of violence.”

Marvel: *puts the bowl down* “What-”

Robin!Tim: “Like isn’t it parenting 101 that you don’t tell your kid they should’ve been lobotomized??”

Marvel: *forgot he said that to Mary the other day* “Uh-”

Robin!Tim: “And then there’s the fact that if I asked, you wouldn’t even be able to tell me where even one of them are at this moment, would you? They could be kidnapped, or lost, or in some other deep shit and you wouldn’t even notice! I haven’t seen this level of negligence in anything other than my own parents, and they didn’t even notice their own child sneaking out at night to take pictures of Batman!”

Marvel: *sounds concerned* “You were neglected-”

Robin!Tim: *grabs a nearby stool, hops on, then stands on his tippy toes so he can look Marvel straight in the face* “And don’t get me started on Black Adam! Why in the world would you even want to get back with him??”

Marvel: *sounds horrified because that inplies they were together at some point* “Who told you that?”

Robin!Tim: “What do you mean who told me that?? It’s obvious to literally everyone!”

Marvel: *looks around as if looking for hidden cameras* “Is it though-”

Robin!Tim: “YES! It is. What on earth could you possibly see in him? There are literally multiple videos of him throwing both you and your kids through buildings.”

Marvel: *goes back to looking for the hidden cameras*

Robin!Tim: *continues his rant* “And then you decided to do the worse possible thing you could do in this situation which was bring in another kid?? What is wrong with you???”

Marvel: *a little speechless but finally gets something out without being cut off for the 50 millionth time* “What do you mean bring in another kid?”

Robin!Tim: “Billy!”

Marvel: “Billy??” *sounds more confused now*

Robin!Tim: “The baby!”

Marvel: “Wha…? Billy isn’t the baby, Darla is??”

Robin!Tim: “Who is Darla???”

Marvel: *realizes he said her actual name* “The purple one.”

Robin!Tim: “She has a name??” *just completely confused now* “Then who’s Billy??”

Marvel: “He’s just some kid that doesn’t have powers.”

Robin!Tim: “He’s not one of your kids…?”

Marvel: “No? I don’t have kids?”

Robin!Tim: “Then how are you related to Junior and Mary and all the other kids??”

Marvel: “We’re siblings? They have a mom and a dad, Robin.”

Robin!Tim: *pauses* “That still doesn’t excuse the fact that you let a bunch of preteens run around fighting crime on their own, unsupervised. Also why are you so much older than them if you’re siblings?”

Solomon: “Say they’re several thousands of years old.”

Marvel: “They’re all several thousands of years old. They’re not idiots. They can fight on their own. As for me? I’m several tens of thousands of years old.”

Robin!Tim: *dumbfounded*

Marvel: “Now what was this about being neglected by your parents?”

Marvel then proceeded to get Tim to trauma dump about his parents, about his vigilante life, and about everything else.

Robin!Tim: “I just can’t believe they didn’t notice!”

Marvel: “That’s terrible.” *hands him the bowl from earlier*

Robin!Tim: “I know!” *absent-minded, stirring of bowl*

By the way, I almost finished this and then lost all the progress so I had to redo all of this. If I hadn’t lost all the progress, it would’ve came out yesterday night. So unfortunately, you’re stuck with the shittier version of this post as I continue to ride off the waves of anger that I still feel boiling inside of me. Rewriting this post made me almost crash out at 12:35 in the morning.

[dearlyjun]

5% tint ☆ c. yeonjun

☆ PAIRING: sugardaddy!yeonjun x collegestudent!reader (f)

☆ GENRE: smut (18+ readers only! dont make me block you)

☆ SUMMARY: you didn't think that doing well on an exam would mean that you would be fucked in the front seat of a porsche; good thing your sugar daddy has 5% tint.

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

☆ WARNINGS: gendered terms are used (girl), semi public sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of praise from yeonjun, yeonjun drives a porsche (I think its a valid warning), yeonjun is wearing rings, making out, creampie kink perhaps?, dirty talk, obviously car sex!! lmk if i forgot anything its almost 1am and im an old lady.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: so heres part of the concept that I literally could not stop yapping about if I tried. combining my interests here: a hot man taking care of me and a porsche of my dreams. I am actually considering making this a series, with a backstory and everythingg so lmk your thots :)

a big thank you to @silvergyus @nightlyawnzz @hearts4huening for being my beta readers for this, and I may use your services in the future.

CLICK HERE TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!

walking to the front of your lecture hall, you collected the results from your latest exam. After finding your name in the pile of papers, you could barely contain your excitement when you saw the boldly printed 100% on the front.

Yeonjun would be so happy.

You quickly walked back to collect your things, before pulling out your phone to text him since he was picking you up from class.

you: going to be walking out in a few. I have good results!!

yeonjun: ahh my smart girl. I'm waiting for you out front.

Soon after you walked out through the double doors of the building that you were in, spotting Yeonjun’s gray Porsche parked up front.

Yeonjun had a pretty dark window tint, so you couldn’t see inside that well. You opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat; Yeonjun beaming.

“There’s my girl.” He had the biggest smile on his face. “Look at you, dressed all cute.” He was referencing your plaid skirt and big crewneck sweatshirt that was actually his.

“Did you just come from the office or something?” You asked him, leaning in to kiss him. “You look so nice.” You smoothed your hand over his button down dress shirt, making him smirk.

“Now let me see this test, huh?”

“Okay.” You quickly dug the scantron out of your folder that you had. Handing it over to Yeonjun, leaning over his center console as he examined it.

He was smirking.

“Yeah, one hundred percent.” You spoke with a huge smile on your face.

“Ah, see I knew you’d do well.” Yeonjun put his hand onto your jaw to kiss you.

You hummed against his mouth, pulling him closer by his shirt. “I missed you last night, daddy.” You kissed him again.

Yeonjun smirked against your lips before pulling away slightly. “Yeah? You know I want you to focus on your school too.”

“I know, but sometimes it’s easier to study when I’m sitting on your lap. You know?” You reached down to feel Yeonjun’s cock, which to your surprise was half erect.

“With my cock inside of you? Princess, you know you can’t focus.”

You remembered the time you swore that you would sit still and study on Yeonjun’s lap while he worked. You didn’t last five minutes before you were fucking yourself on his cock.

You pouted as Yeonjun moved to kiss you towards your neck. “But I’m such a good girl for you, Daddy.”

Yeonjun practically choked back a moan; if his cock wasn’t hard before, it definitely was now. “And I always reward you, don’t I?”

He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, then went to unbuckle his belt to lower his pants. You let out an audible noise when he finally lowered his underwear, leaky, pretty cock out on full display.

“Go ahead and sit on it, pretty girl.” Yeonjun spoke, shuddering slightly when he swiped the tip with his thumb.

You felt a sudden tinge of shyness when you took off your shoes. Yeonjun could practically read your mind.

“The tints are too dark; no one can see you.”

“Okay, help me.” You answered, slightly laughing at the fact that you were going to climb over the console of a car that cost as much as your parents' house.

“I got you.” Yeonjun held onto you. Before you sat down on him, he pulled the fabric of your underwear out of the way.

“Oh my- fuck, you’re so wet.” Yeonjun gasped. “I’ll slip right fucking in.”

You lowered yourself onto him, and it was painfully slow; making you feel every inch of his cock.

Yeonjun was seconds away from ruining his leather with his fingernails with the way that he was gripping onto the passenger seat.

“Daddy…your cock. Fuck.” You sighed, dropping your head into his neck; taking a breath of his sweet cologne. He was fully inside of you, nuzzled up into that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Yeah, baby I know.” His hands were roaming your thighs and ass. Your underwear was cutting into you, but you couldn’t care less.

You slowly started to grind onto him, trying to find a rhythm in the limited space that you had. Yeonjun looked ahead, subtly watching if anyone walked by his car.

“You look so pretty, you know.” He spoke into your ear. “My dick inside of you in the front seat of my Porsche.” He suddenly gripped onto your hips, fucking you onto his cock.

“You’re my good girl, you know that?”

You couldn’t even answer, just let out a whimper of a moan.

“Repeat it back to me, baby.” His grip was so tight you thought his rings were going to make marks in your skin.

“I’m your…good girl.” You nearly choked on your words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Yeonjun could already tell by the way that you were clenching around him, and he probably wasn’t going to last much longer himself.

Yeonjun turned your face to look at him in one quick movement. “Yeah? I’m so fucking deep in you aren’t I?” His voice was low; you knew what he was doing.

The sounds of your cunt were obscene; Yeonjun loved every second of it. He studied your face as he angled your hips differently, cockhead hitting so deep that your jaw fell slack.

You’ve never looked so pretty to him. Honors student studying biology. Probably going to end up being a doctor. He knew you’d be decorated in cords at your graduation. But now, he was hitting so deep you couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Letting out a rather loud whine when your orgasm finally hit you, Yeonjun kissed you, shushing you. After all, his car only had a tint; not soundproofing.

“Cum in me. Please, daddy.” You were nearly delirious, whimpering expletives. Yeonjun knew you were actually being serious, because you always begged him to. “That’s my reward, right?”

And how could he say no? Not when you were whining, begging as you pulled on his necklace to kiss him.

“You can take it all?” He asked. Stupid question. You always could, even if he had to fuck it back into you.

You eagerly nodded, lips jutting out to a pout before you kissed him again.

“God you drive me fucking insane.” Yeonjun’s last words before letting go of his orgasm that he was trying to hang onto. “You feel so fucking good.”

The fact that he was probably making a mess out of his seat was sent to the back of his mind. He’d deal with that later, because the moan that you let out made it all worth it.

“Fuck.” He was panting. “You have to be quiet.” Grinding his hips with yours; his cock was still inside of you making you slightly wince at how messy everything felt.

“Shit.” You muttered, looking down at where the two of your bodies connected.

“Yeah, I made a fuckin mess.” Yeonjun jokes, his hands roaming your thighs. “We should probably go back to my place….” His voice trailed off like it was a question.

“Hmm?” You were confused. “I thought you texted me earlier that you wanted to go to the Prada store, no?”

“Yes…” Yeonjun bit down on his bottom lip, smirking. “But I don’t think I'm finished with you yet.”

☆ TAGS: @mhasimp666 @yunsbby @sikkkko

(strike through indicates I am unable to tag, please make sure your tagging feature is turned on!)

[pucksandpower]

Achilles Come Down

Charles Leclerc x soft dom!Reader

Summary: sometimes you have to take control to get Charles out of his own head

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request with some little hints here and there that the reader is Charles’ race engineer (inspired by him getting a new race engineer all of a sudden in real life)

The garage is eerily quiet as you make your way towards Charles’ driver’s room, the usual buzz of activity muted in the wake of his DNF. His familiar red race suit is marred by streaks of oil and rubber, a physical reminder of the mechanical failure that ended his race prematurely.

Charles stalks ahead of you, his body taut with frustration. You can practically see the negative thoughts racing through his mind, the self-recrimination and second-guessing he’s so prone to despite the circumstances being completely out of his control.

“Charles, wait up,” you call out, struggling to match his clipped pace. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, jaw clenched.

“What is there to say, Y/N? My race is over before it could even properly begin.” The defeat in his voice cuts you deeply.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you insist, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “A rear brake malfunction is out of your hands.”

He shrugs you off, throat bobbing with repressed emotion. “I’m the one behind the wheel. I should have sensed something was wrong, made adjustments ...”

“You can’t control every little thing on that car, no matter how talented you are,” you interrupt firmly. “Sometimes factors outside your control are going to screw things up. Dwelling on it won’t change that.”

Charles lets out a harsh exhale, raking frustrated fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “Easy for you to say. It’s not your championship hopes slipping away with every botched race.”

You resist the urge to snap back, knowing his irritability stems from disappointment rather than any real malice towards you. Taking a calming breath, you change tacks.

“Okay, let’s go inside and get you out of that suit at least,” you suggest in a gentler tone. “We can debrief the data after you’ve had a chance to reset.”

Charles hesitates, chewing on his full lower lip in an unconscious gesture of indecision. You frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Trust me, baby. Let me take care of you for once.”

The rigidity finally seeps from his stance as he gives a jerky nod of acquiescence. You push open the door and usher him inside, the familiar smells of his favorite Dior cologne and heat-weathered leather enveloping you both.

Once the door clicks shut, blocking out the distractions of the paddock, you move in close to begin unzipping Charles’ kinetic race suit. He stands stiffly as you peel away each layer until he’s stripped down to just his snug fireproof undershirt and shorts.

Running soothing hands over his tense shoulders and neck, you knead at the knots of muscles corded there. A low exhale shudders from Charles’ lips as some of the pent-up stress bleeds out of his frame.

“That’s it, let it all go,” you murmur. “Your only job now is to relax and let me take over for once.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, the barest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You circle around to face him again, hands roaming over the lean muscles of his chest and abs through the thin fabric. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, probing kiss, slanting your mouth over his again and again until his tension fully dissolves and he melts into your touch.

“Better?” You ask with a quirked brow as you finally pull back, taking in his dazed expression.

“Getting there,” Charles replies, pupils already blown wide with arousal. He surges forward to recapture your lips hungrily.

You allow him to control the heated kiss for a few indulgent moments before taking charge once more, pushing firmly against his chest until the backs of his thighs hit the edge of the sleek, ultra-modern sofa. He flops back with a breathless chuckle as you crawl over him, straddling his waist and rocking your hips against his in a pointed grind.

“Just relax and let me handle this,” you rasp against the hinge of his jaw, relishing the full-body shudder that wracks his frame.

Your hands deftly slip beneath the hem of his undershirt, pushing it up and over his head to expose his toned upper body before latching your lips to the hollow of his throat. Charles tips his head back in blissful surrender as you lavish hot, openmouthed kisses along the thunderous pulse point and down the sculpted grooves of his chest.

His hands struggle to find purchase as your mouth trails lower still, tracing nonsensical patterns through the trial of hair. Every swirl of your tongue is deliberate, thorough, a reminder to him to stay grounded in the present moment, focused solely on the exquisite sensations you’re lavishing upon his body.

You pause with your face hovering inches above the waistband of his shorts, reveling in the pure want burning in Charles’ lust-darkened gaze as he watches you through his veil of tousled chestnut curls. Hooking your fingers into the stretchy material, you ease it down, never breaking that heated eye contact.

Charles is already achingly hard, hips twitching upwards in search of some kind of delicious friction. You blow a teasing stream of air over his length, relishing the way he squirms and lets out a guttural moan. Only then do you take him fully into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the velvety crown before sinking down in one smooth glide.

“F-Fuck ...” Charles’ head thrashes against the armrest as his hands scrabble uselessly at the supple leather, trying and failing to find purchase. You hum in satisfaction around your mouthful, the vibrations jolting through him with dizzying intensity.

Knowing he’s dangerously close already, you ease off with one last lingering lick. Charles whines in protest, hips canting upwards to chase that incredible heat and suction. But rather than continuing with your talented mouth, you throw one lean leg over his body to straddle his hips once more.

Charles swallows hard as you reach behind to unclasp your lacy bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and allowing it to puddle onto the floor. He tracks the motion with rapt attention, fingers twitching with the overwhelming need to touch.

Before he can make a move, you halt him with a stern look and guiding hand wrapped around his wrist. “Nuh-uh, I’m in charge here, remember?”

Charles makes a thin, desperate sound but complies, allowing you to pin both wrists above his head. His chest heaves with each shuddering inhale as he watches you shimmy out of your skin tight jeans with your core hovering just above his straining length.

Then, maintaining that heated eye contact, you sink down unbearably slowly until he’s sheathed fully inside you. Charles’ mouth drops open in a low keen as you begin to move in an unhurried grind, savoring each delicious inch.

“You feel that?” You rasp, leaning down to capture his plush bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re not alone in this, baby. I’ve got you.”

Charles nods frantically, hips jerking upwards in a broken rhythm to chase that incredible friction. You release his wrists in favor of framing his face, anchoring him to this intense connection amid the swirling sensations.

“Don’t think about the race or the championship,” you order in a low murmur. “There’s only you and me, here and now. Got it?”

“Yes ...” Charles moans in affirmation as your pace picks up the tiniest bit, guiding him closer and closer to that blissful edge.

Perspiration sheens over both your bodies, slick skin sliding together in an intoxicating glide. His hands roam hungrily over every inch of you, mapping each sculpted curve and plane like a long-cherished map. You snake one hand between your joined bodies to stroke him in counterpoint to your rolling undulations, determined to shatter him into a million ecstatic pieces.

Charles’ breath grows increasingly ragged, each strangled cry of pleasure driving you higher towards your own shattering peak. “Look at me,” you demand, cupping his stubbled jaw. His glassy emerald eyes lock onto yours obediently. “I’m all that matters right now.”

He shudders beneath you, mouth dropping open in a choked groan as his orgasm slams into him with full force. You bear down harder, chasing your own release to the soundtrack of his gasping whimpers. White-hot pleasure detonates through your nerve endings, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

Collapsing bonelessly atop him, you nuzzle against the slick hollow of his throat, placing a tender kiss over his pulse as you both struggle to catch your breath. Charles’ arms envelop you, his frame still quivering with aftershocks.

“Better?” You murmur against his salted skin, unable to resist a teasing smirk.

A breathless laugh huffs from his lips. “So much better. I ...” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Thank you, mon ange. For not letting me spiral.”

“Always,” you vow simply, tilting your head to capture his lips in a deep, searing kiss. When you finally break apart, his eyes are warm and clear, no longer clouded by that self-destructive darkness.

A tender smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you brush back the damp chestnut curls from his forehead. In this quiet moment, with his body and soul laid bare before you, you know the roles have switched once more. He’s gone from race driver to simply Charles — your Charles — and you’ll protect that brilliant light within him with everything you have.

“We can debrief the data later,” he murmurs, mirroring your earlier words with a contented grin. “For now, I just want to stay right here with you.”

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)

summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*

You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.

A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.

I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.

Hi beautiful in the mornings.

I'm sorry.

You're still my girl.

And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.

Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.

Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.

How many?

How many what?

His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.

It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.

"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.

"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"

He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.

"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.

He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.

"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.

Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.

You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.

"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."

Silence.

You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.

"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.

You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.

He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.

Two days passed before the first text came in.

"I'm sorry" is all it said.

You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.

At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.

More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.

Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.

Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.

You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.

You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.

Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.

You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.

You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?

Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.

What the hell? you thought, confused.

Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.

You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...

...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.

Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:

"Done"

And then:

"I love you!"

"I'll be looking for you 😍"

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.

And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.

It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.

(part two)

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[starflirts]

HOW MUCH IS WEED with percy and the prompt “i couldn’t stop missing you even if i tried” <33 requesting for a bit angst hurt/comfort with a happy ending..congrats on a 100!!

here you go anon!! <3

percy jackson x reader

You didn’t think it’d go this far. A simple disagreement about something mundane led to an almost screaming match as you stood in front of your boyfriend, arms crossed.

“No, this isn’t how it works Percy and you know it !”

he scoffs. “Yeah right, because you know me so well don’t you ?”

It takes you a couple of seconds to retaliate. Without another word, you pick up your bag and your coat laying on the back of Percy’s couch.

“I’m out. I don’t want to deal with this anymore.”

As you storm through his hallway, your boyfriend is still in his living room, rubbing his temples. “go ahead!” he bites

With your hand on the knob, you turn back one last time.

“Don’t call me for a while. I think we need some space.”

Still blinded by his own anger, Percy snaps. “Fine by me!”

The last thing he hears is the slam of his front door. Falling back on the couch, Percy holds his head into his hands, his harsh words running through his mind.

You’re no better, angrily wiping tears as you head home.

You kept your word and stubbornly avoided any contact with Percy, yet a small part of you still looked for him in your notifications.

After a couple weeks without seeing the two of you hanging out, your friends started to plan something to get the two of you in the same room again. “You used to be practically joined at the hip! This can’t go on!” was what they all said.

And unbeknownst to you, they did plan to get the two of you together again. You were all supposed to meet up at the cafe on the corner of your street but no one was there when you arrived. Guessing they were late, you pulled out your phone when you suddenly heard a voice you haven’t heard in what felt like ages.

“Sorry I’m la- Y/N ?” snapping your head up, you’re face to face with a disheveled Percy, cheeks red from the probable run from his block to yours.

“Hi. I don’t think the others are coming.” you tell him blankly, already gathering your stuff to leave.

“Wait!” Percy starts as he sits in the chair across from you, laying a hand on your wrist. “Can we… talk ?” his eyes are almost pleading and you nod.

“Listen, I- I can't stop thinking about our argument, and about us. I messed up. I know you said you didn’t want me to call you so I didn’t but it was so hard trying not to look through all my notifications thinking about you.”

You smile at that, glad he felt the same way you did. Shaking your head, your hand reaches for his.

“It’s okay. I’m at fault here too. I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. I should’ve talked it out,” you pause “we both should’ve talked it out.”

“This won’t happen again.” he answers earnestly.

You laugh, “I hope so! It was so hard trying not to miss you.”

His hand squeezes yours. “I couldn’t stop missing you even if I tried.”

[belokhvostikova]

𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In the simplest terms, Dustin Henderson has essentially become Eddie Munson's biggest cock block.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief alcohol consumption, jealousy, mentions of a rough childhood, and explicit sexual content: humping, clit rubbing, pussy slapping, spitting, handjob, oral (male receiving), and ball play.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Couple uses of "Y/N," sorry. And for maximum enjoyment, please picture Eddie's whiny tantrums from the boat scene for this piece, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

It started off minor, as most issue occur.

Eddie rather quickly took notice of the particular interest Dustin Henderson took in you.

It was lunch. Though they were essentially just a myriad of—let's be honest here—losers, the judgmental stares of high school boys as you approached and sat at their table was quite worry inducing. Getting through Eddie's hardening exterior was a journey in of itself, and now as his proclaimed girlfriend, you had to experience the journey yet again with his friends, who profoundly expressed their distaste for “your people.” Who knew such popularity within yourself would have caused them to initially despise you this much.

Not Dustin Henderson, though.

At an attempt to ease some of the awkward tension—made only worse when Eddie snapped at everyone to be nice—at the lunch table, you caught sight of Dustin's Weird Al t-shirt, one which he wore proudly, that in all honesty made you giggle. Ever since then, Dustin Henderson hasn’t been able to let go of the fact that he made a pretty girl laugh.

He clung onto you like a lifeline.

Eddie had a temper. He was always revved up. And seeing how often Dustin was conjuring a conversation with you, seeking your attention, truly made him ballistic. He didn't like sharing. Even if it was harmless. Ever since the officially introduction at lunch, it has been nothing but:

"Hey, check out my new comic book! It's limited edition!"

"Wanna help me with my science project? You're just so smart, it would really help. Maybe we can meet at the library?"

"Do you wanna see Alien with me? Lucas is going with Max, and you can join me." The fuck?! That was practically a double-date to Eddie.

The one that truly hurt him the most was two weeks ago, when you congratulated the stupid, little shit—Eddie's words, not yours—with one of your loving, sweet hugs for getting an A+ on said science project.

You used to always hug Eddie when he made good grades.

But, hey, maybe Eddie was just overreacting, right? But what the hell constitutes overreacting and not rightful-reacting, when some noisy freshman, who can't seem to grasp the simple concept of boundaries, once again oversteps, making him have blue balls, because all he wanted was to cum in his girlfriend's mouth, but apparently that's too much to ask!

Eddie huffed.

You stared incredulous.

"'Rightful-reacting.'" You tried to suppress the giggle, you really did, but you couldn't help but laugh at his dramatic wording, when he had dragged you away into his bedroom to vitalize this reoccurring issue.

Eddie moved close, right to your face, gripping tightly on your shoulders, looking like a crazed man. Hell, it was Dustin's fault. "Sweetheart, you're focusing on the wrong thing here." He heaved. "That little dingus has been ruining my life for the past week; only speaking to you, interrupting date nights, calling twenty-four seven, and now impeding our sexy time!"

"'Impeding our sexy time.'" Biting your lip did nothing to stop the emerging smile and laugh on your face. God, you loved the hell out of him.

"Would you quit that!" He whined with a theatric shake to your shoulders to get back to the point.

"Sorry, sorry," you placed on your best serious expression, "go ahead, explain."

"Explain?! Do you not remember what happened Saturday?"

Ah, Saturday. It was 11:42 p.m. Eddie—more so his insatiable appetite—had the bright idea of heading to Benny's Diner for the greasiest food to fill his stomach. It was late, and the diner had been empty with the exception of the older waitress smoking near the coffee pot, and he pulled you closely against his side, arm wrapped around waist, and toying with the soft cotton of your pajama shorts that rested against your thigh.

You moaned at the sweetness of the cold milkshake savoring your mouth. "Mm, you want some?" You offered to Eddie.

He was captivated, totally entranced by the pucker of your lips that held the creamy residue, "Mhm, yeah, I do." He whispered.

When you attempted to hand him the cold glass, he gently pushed your hand away, and consumed your mouth in a matter of seconds. The grease from his burger softened his lips, letting the pillowy feeling encapsulate you. Your hands naturally found solace on his jaw, prompting him to continue his movements, hands gripping your smooth thighs to keep you in place. As you parted your lips, Eddie's tongue snaked its way inside, officially getting a taste of that sweet vanilla that you had just swallowed.

"God, baby, you taste so good." He mewled against your lips.

His hand traveled up to your neck, securing your face in his palm, and you let your will fall in his control. His tongue prodded against yours, and the wet sounds of your spit exchanging grew entirely too inappropriate for Benny's establishment, though he didn't care. It was late, he wanted you, and no one was around.

Or so he thought.

"Gross, your gonna suffocate her!" Mike's grimacing voice broke your make out session.

While your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Eddie scoffed, unbothered. He rolled his eyes, glaring back at Mike, who justly looked appalled, and then there was Dustin, who had that bright, big smile on his face that Eddie was starting to grow annoyed with.

"Well, hey guys!" Dustin greeted with joy. "Funny seeing you here!"

"Isn't it past your bedtimes?" Eddie jumped straight into it.

"Nice to see you, too, Eddie." Dustin smiled. Eddie watched as the kid turned to you, eyes lighting up and everything. "Hi, Y/N!"

"Hey, Dustin." You politely greeted. Unlike Eddie, you didn't have it in you to be so blunt with disdain. "Um, what are you guys doing here so late?"

Dustin jumped with delight, quickly taking your question as an invitation to sit on the dingy booth across from you and Eddie. "Well, since you asked, Mike and I just spent the last five hours completing all twenty-seven games of Combat on my Atari!"

"Wow, that's incredible," Eddie feigned amazement, his sarcasm oozing out obviously, "now that you've told us, go." He gritted.

"Yeah, man, we have to get our food before my mom finds out we left and kills me." Mike extended, still waiting at the end of the table.

But not for long, as Dustin held a tight grip on his agile wrist, pulling him to the seating. "Nonsense, we just got here."

Eddie laughed. Not a good laugh. One of those scary laughs he pulls when he's on the precipice of enragement. "Oh, absolutely not!" His fist slammed on the table. Everyone flinched.

Dustin sneeringly dismissed Eddie, turning to you. "You don't mind if we stay, right? You always said you would welcome us."

Eddie couldn't believe his eyes. Your kindness was actively being exploited, and he watched in disbelief as you opened and closed your mouth to speak, but only an awkward laugh escaped. You peered at Dustin, back at Eddie, then to Dustin again. "Um, s-sure, I guess..."

Dustin whooped with excitement.

"Great." Eddie mumbled to himself.

You shot him an apologetic look that just exuded the words "I'm really sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Eddie's anger wasn’t directed at you, and he made sure you understood with a shake to his head to acknowledge, "I'm not mad at you."

He may not have been mad at you, but he was fucking furious with Dustin Henderson.

"You remember?" Eddie's words snapped you from the memory of Saturday night’s diner incident, suddenly brining you back to the setting of Eddie’s room.

You quickly nodded your head.

"Yeah, see." He proved. "And what about Sunday morning?"

Following the events of Saturday, Eddie had slept over yours, letting the resided angry dissolve as he held you in his embrace. He'd been awoken by the succulent smell of your scent, urging his morning hard-on to spring to life against your plushy ass. He tiredly nosed the hair away from the junction of your neck and shoulders to place languid kisses against your skin. His hand snaked over your hip, toying with the cute bow that was situated on the front of your lacy underwear. With a hand on your pelvis, he pushed you back against his boner, letting his wet kisses and pressuring cock stir you awake.

A sleepy whine left your pouting lips, and Eddie nearly busted at the sound of it. "Fuck, baby, you gonna let me use you?" He kissed your neck. "So fucking hard for you, princess, got me dreaming about that pussy in my sleep."

You turned your head, letting both of your lips meet in the middle, as Eddie increased the speed of his hips to hump the globes of your ass. His fingertips soon gathered a firmhold of the front of your panties, pulling upward harshly. You choked on your breath as the fabric of your underwear wedge between your puffy pussy lips, igniting the friction against your pulsating clit. You quickly began to feel the icky sensation of his precum dampening your ass, while your slick soaked your underwear, making you a wet mess all around.

"Let me have your pussy, please, baby." He groaned.

You nodded your head with permission, "Fuck, yes, please."

Eddie was quick to pull your panties from your legs, discarding the piece haphazardly across your room. Your foot hooked behind his leg to keep you nice and open, and just as his fingers were about to pleasure you seeping pussy, the phone rang.

The phone fucking rang.

You flinched at the abrupt noise that was blaring on your bedside table, and Eddie's head dropped against your shoulder in disappointment, a groan muffled by your shirt. "Just fucking ignore it, sweetheart."

"Real quick, I promise, just to make sure everything's good." You swore, as you reached for the phone.

That wasn't going to stop Eddie Munson, though. Right as you picked up, the tips of his finger pressed against your clit, eliciting a shaky "Hello" to escape your mouth. He grinned with satisfaction as he watched your eyes screw shut and your teeth sunk into your plump bottom lip.

But then the next words you uttered truly set him off.

"Oh, h-hi, Dustin."

"What?!" Eddie screamed into your ear. "Hang up the phone right now."

He was stern with his words, and stern with his movements. The pace of fingers quickened, along with your breaths and his patience.

You held up a finger to signal Eddie to hold on, as you tried your absolute best to comprehend the conversation that Dustin was attempting to have with you. "So, yeah, would you like to go to the arcade this afternoon?"

"I- Dustin, now's, uh, now is not r-really a good time- fuck." You gasped softly.

"Yeah, so fucking hang up." Eddie whispered against your cheek, as his hand slide between your wet folds, gathering all of your arousal and coming back to rubbing your pretty clit.

"Why not? Everything alright?" If it wasn’t for the current situation, you would have appreciated the kid’s concern.

"Yeah, yeah- yes!" That response was definitely not to Dustin. "Um, yes, j-just busy with Eds." You breathed out in order to filter out your moans.

"That's right, so fucking hang up!" Eddie yelled loud enough for Dustin to hear, as it was intended towards him, and his hand pulled back, slapping your cunt, the stinging vibrations traveling through your sensitive clit.

"Fuck! Gotta go." The second you slammed the phone back to the receive, Eddie rushed to climb on top of you, swallowing your wails with his hungry lips.

Meanwhile, Dustin was just left dumbfounded, staring at the deadline of his phone.

"Do you see what I'm talking about, baby?" Eddie emphasized, hands cupping your face, pleading that you'd understand.

Snapping back to reality from the memory, you were quick to nod your head again. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that."

"No, it's not you." He stressed. "That little shit just knows how to work his way around you. That's why he fucking came here today."

Now, today was Eddie's last straw. At least Sunday morning, he was able to get rid of Dustin and have you all to himself, but today? Today, Dustin ruined one of Eddie's favorite moment with you. A blowjob.

It was late into the evening, as Eddie splayed himself on the worn couch of his living room. His legs lazily rested over the armrest, as he nursed down a beer that was keeping him sane from having to listen the Happy Days theme song that he grew profoundly annoyed with, but he was too lazy to move and grab the remote. It'd been quite a long day for him. During third period, Mrs. Lineker shoved a pop quiz in his face, which he knew he flunked. To top it off, you had missed lunch under the guise that Chrissy Cunningham stole you away to “work on cheer routines.” As if that's not what practice is for, Eddie rolled his eyes at your kidnapping, which he proclaimed it was.

And now you actually were at practice, gone and away from Eddie when he really needed you. That was until he heard the gentle knocking coming from his front door, which he had learned was you. You entered with a bright smile that washed all of Eddie's irritations away. He truly did have a soft spot for you, and only you.

"Hi!" You happily greeted, as you situated yourself on his lap, arms snaking around his neck.

"Hi, baby." He tiredly smiled, as he caressed your sides. "You're back early."

"Yeah, coach cut practice, so I was able to get home and shower to come see you." A shy grin flushed his face as you pecked his nose with a cute kiss.

Who knew this mean guy could crack under nose kisses?

"Good," he huffed, bringing you impossibly close, "been a shit day barely being able to see you. People always stealing you away." He grumbled.

In truth, behind his domineering demeanor that seemed untouchable to anyone, Eddie was quite sensitive when it came to his feelings for you. His biggest fears lied dormant under his tough exterior, only exposing itself in the presence of a safe environment, and it became evident as he hugged you tight, because he truly feared someone would steal you away. Whether it was as superficial as Dustin Henderson seeking your attention, or potentially serious as Chrissy Cunningham who still remained unsure of your relationship after the bullshit Jason Carver fed her. He was terrified that one day you'd listen to your friends and leave. How the hell was Eddie Munson, "Freak" of Hawkins High, suppose to provide you with all the things you deserved?

He did, though. Eddie Munson gave you everything.

"I know, I'm sorry." You whispered, as you kissed his pouty lips.

But he simply shook his head, rejecting your apology. "Don't apologize." He insisted. "It's not your fault you're so lovable."

A smile emerged on his face as he made you giggle. You cupped his cheeks, and gently brushed a couple strands of his bangs to fully capture his eyes that just captivated you.

"You're so lovable, too, Eddie." He deserved to know. "I love loving you."

You gave him a firm, long kiss to solidify your words as fact, because it was. No matter how much he denied it in his overthinking head.

"I love loving you, too, princess."

Your hand traveled down his chest, exposing the bareness, as he only laid in an unbuttoned plaid shirt. "Can I show you how much I love loving you?" He immediately recognized that look in your eyes that always paired so beautifully with your salacious smile.

He blushed under your insinuation, dick twitching and goosebumps rising as your fingertips brushed his happy trail. "I don't want you to think that you have to make it up to me."

"Oh, I know." You kissed his cheek. "But I just really want to. So can I, Eddie? Can I suck your cock?"

"Fuck." His groaned, as you grabbed his semi through his sweatpants. "If I ever answer "no" to that, sweetheart, I want you to take one of Wayne's hunting guns and shoot me with it."

You laughed as you settled between his legs, and he relaxed himself on the armrest of the couch. You opened his shirt further, and ran your hands against his chest and belly before grabbing his sweatpants and shimmying them down his hips. You rubbed his hardening length, planting a quick kiss, before pulling it out of his boxers.

"Fuck, yeah, baby." He cooed, watching your small, delicate hand wrap around his cock to languidly jerk it.

You peered up at him, and quickly crawled up close to his face. "Spit in my mouth, Eddie."

He cursed under his breath, as you felt his dick jump at the request. Unable to formulate words, he quickly nodded. Grabbing your chin, he pulled you into a messy, open-mouthed make out, where his tongue lavished against yours. Soon, his grip stiffened, preventing you from closing your tingling lips. You mewled at the sensation of Eddie's spit invading your mouth, a warm globe situated on your tongue.

You pulled back from his hold, aiming down to his cock, where you parted your lips to let his spit coat himself. “Oh, my fuck- just looking at you is gonna make me cum.”

His abs contracted as you held a firm grip to his cock, jerking the spit to his base and up and around his blistering red head. You suctioned on his frenulum, eliciting the sweet moans he desperately tried to hold back. "Shit, baby, oh my god." He muttered.

You kissed down his shaft, eventually nosing the fuzzy skin of his balls, that tensed at your arrival. Peering up with your large doe eyes, Eddie swore under his breath, meeting your contact, and raking his hand through your hair.

"Yes, princess, suck on my balls." He moaned, as your tongue ravished his taste. "Fuck, get 'em all messy for me, baby, please."

As your left hand jerked him, your right held a tight grip between his thigh and balls to secure all access from his opened legs. Soon enough, you popped one of his large balls into your mouth, his musky scent invading your senses.

"Shit, shit- fuck, make me feel good, sweetheart. God, I'm gonna give you everything I got, baby, just keep sucking." He whimpered.

His hand was yanking the roots of your hair, shoving your nose against the curls of his pubic hair, as your hand circled around his oozing tip. Dating Eddie had led you onto the beautiful journey of learning all his sweet spots, so you knew to massage the area beneath his balls, which quickly proved right, as his body twitched at the mere sensation.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

With a wet pop, you switched to his other throbbing ball, enjoying the sight of his sticky bangs framing his face and eyes fluttering shut. It was pure fucking heaven for Eddie Munson.

Until it turned into straight hell.

*Knock, knock, knock,* "Hey, guys!"

Dustin. Fucking. Henderson.

Now, Eddie knew he was an asshole; every insult, shove, push, punch, and crime he's ever committed flooded his mind as to what might be the cause of his bad karma. He knew he made bad decisions in his life that very much came to an inconvenience to everyone else in Hawkins, but he never claimed to be virtuous man. But did he really deserve this? This punishment? This torment? This torture?

"Hello? You guys in there?" God, the kid's voice came out like nails on a chalk board to Eddie.

He watched the front door, praying to a god that he sure as hell didn't believe in, that Dustin would leave. But his attention quickly snapped to you, when you dropped one of his balls from his mouth.

You heaved, "We should sto-"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Eddie whined, quickly shoving your head down his cock, quietly moaning at the gag you urged from the forceful intrusion to your throat. "S-sorry, I really need this. Ignore him."

So, you did.

Your tongue swiveled around his shaft, lips dragging the wetness of spit, slobber, drool, and precum up and down his length, as you hollowed in your cheeks to speed along his impending orgasm.

But the knocking was insistent.

"Hey! I know you're in there! I see both your cars out here!" Dustin yelled.

God, this wasn't happening, Eddie thought. It can't be! By far, one of the messiest and best blowjobs he's ever received was being interrupted at this very moment. Not to mention, every time Dustin knocked or spoke, all he got was a mental image of the curly-haired kid that hurdled his orgasm back from release.

Just focus on your beautiful girlfriend sucking on your cock, your beautiful girlfriend sucking on your cock, your beautiful girlfriend sucking on your co-

"Come on, guys! Eddie?! Y/N?!"

You pulled off. Eddie wanted to cry. "Maybe we should stop?" You suggested sympathetically.

Letting go of your head, Eddie dropped his face into his hands in defeat. You felt bad, you honestly did. But there was no way you could continue sucking his dick as Dustin's presence loomed right outside. You sat back on your heels as you watched Eddie huff. There was no longer sadness. Just pure fucking rage.

He stood from the couch, pulling his sweats up, and grabbing a throw pillow to cover his throbbing cock that bulged through the material. He footsteps echoed loudly, each stomp shaking the weak foundation of the trailer. You feared for Dustin's fate.

Throwing the door open, Eddie didn't let Dustin mutter single word of salutations. "What?! What, in the absolute fuck do you want?! What the fuck?!"

Dustin flinched back at Eddie's screams, agitation consuming the kid's face, as every ounce of spit had doused his head from the yelling. Though clearly frightened from Eddie's killing looks, Dustin knew he wouldn't hurt him, especially not in front of you. He was smart. Brushing away the spurts of spit, Dustin merely sauntered past Eddie and into the trailer.

Completely disregarding Eddie, Dustin spoke, "God, who pissed in his cornflakes, am I right?" With a loud giggle, as he sat next to you.

You, who could only awkwardly laugh and rub an remaining drool from your chin that didn't reveal what you were just doing.

Eddie's mouth dropped at Dustin's actions, watching the young boy get comfortable right on the spot that he was just receiving head. If this was a cartoon, steam would be blowing from Eddie's ears. Honestly, if you squinted hard enough, you could probably see it.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Eddie shouted. "Did I say you could fucking come in?! Get out!”

Eddie truly was getting scary at this point, you'd never seen him so angry, it was jarring. Dustin curled into your side, knowing any potential harm wouldn't be done with you by his side. So, he crossed his arms, "No, I just got here."

"Why?!" Eddie threw the couch pillow he was holding—boner long gone—at Dustin's head.

"Because I wanna hang out!" Dustin yelled back. "We're friends, remember." Eddie didn't appreciate the rhetorical question that Dustin implied with stupidity.

"You have other fucking friends!"

God, it was times like these you wished you had the guts to be confrontation.

"No." Dustin pointed out matter of factly. "Mike is on the phone with El, and Lucas went to the comic book store with Max. They're all with their girlfriends."

Eddie pulled his hair as if he was going insane. You'd never seen his eyes so wide. "I'm with my girlfriend, you little shit!" He pointed to you.

Dustin turned to look at you. Oh, no. You knew what was coming.

"Well, Y/N, do you want me to stay?"

"U-um-"

"No!" Eddie quickly interjected. "You don't get to fucking talk to her! She's my girlfriend!"

"Well, she's my friend!"

Eddie breathed out a couple times to catch his breath. His adrenaline was pulsating like crazy, and he was doing everything in his will power to not choke the kid out. "Alright." He panted. "You wanna stay. Stay." Eddie reached for your hand and pulled you from the couch. "But we're not staying with you."

He began guiding you to his room, as Dustin scoffed. "Eddie." You attempted to plead.

"Nope." He was stern with his stance. "Not fucking staying with him."

Eddie had dragged you into his room with a loud slam to his door. And that's where you were right now, in the low light of his bedroom as he reiterated all the interrupted moments caused by Dustin.

"That little shit just knows how to work his way around you. That's why he fucking came here today." Eddie groaned, as he finished his stressing tirade.

"Well, I don't know what to do." You gently spoke to calm his aggravated nerves.

“You gotta give it to him straight, sweetheart." Eddie urged. "He won't fucking leave until you tell him to."

"But I can't do that to him." You pouted. "That's mean."

God, you were so fucking cute. But cute isn't what he needs right now. "Baby, you've been dating me long enough that some of me has had to rub off on you."

You groaned, entirely out of your comfort zone. "Fine, but you have to calm down." You pointed, the best austere look you could muster, discipling him like a kid.

Eddie giggled at you. "Sure, anything for you." He kissed your tense forehead. "Sorry for the yelling."

After a couple more kisses and breaths, you both made your way back to the living room, Dustin still sitting at the same spot, smug look to his face. "Well, that was pretty fast. Miss me already?" Was it wrong that Eddie wanted to punch him right then and there?

"Actually, she needs to tell you something." Eddie sneered back, placing you right on the spot. He sat you right on the coffee table in front of Dustin, standing behind and massaging your shoulders, keeping his hands busy from connecting with Dustin's face. "Go on, babe. Tell him."

"Um, well, Dustin, w-we were thinking that maybe it's best if we have a-a little... alone time." You were walking on eggshells trying to keep both heavily opinionated boys at bay. God, they were more alike than they realized.

"What?" Dustin looked shocked at your revelation.

"What she means is, get out." Eddie smiled with glee.

Dustin scoffed, "What did you do to her?! I know you just made her say that!"

"What?!" So much for being calm. "I didn't make her do anything! She's tired of you always butting in, just too nice to say it! But I'll say it, you're driving us crazy, get out!"

"Shut up! Both of you!" Dustin and Eddie instantaneously quieted down at your newfound voice that they never once heard above its usual soft-spoken octave. "You're both driving me crazy!"

"Well, he started it. Always trying to take your attention." Eddie grumbled.

"Attention?! Are you jealous? Of me? I’m fourteen, you’re like old as shit!"

That snapped Eddie.

He tried to lunge at Dustin, "Okay! Okay!" But you were quick to hug his waist and pull him back. Dustin, of course, dramatically shrieked and fell back onto the couch as if he got hit.

Too much yelling, and too much hair was flying around for your liking. You were going to explode with stress.

"Look, Dustin, we love spending time with you, really, but there are times when Eddie and I just want to be alone together!"

"Yeah!" Eddie laughed at the young boy's sullen face.

But you were quick to turn back to Eddie. "And you! You have got to stop being so mean!" You got close and whispered to him directly. "I know this is rooted deeper for you, but I'm not leaving you, Eddie. Ever. For anyone. Get that through your head. You have every right to be annoyed, but don't so callous towards him or anyone, in general."

Eddie sighed, nodding his head, and understanding your words. Finally, a moment of clarity. He rubbed the wrinkles of your furrowed brows, clearly stressed from having to be placed in the middle of their quarrel. "Yeah, yeah, sorry, baby, you're right."

He leaned down, placing a loving kiss to your lips that denoted all his admiration for you. You both understood his underlying insecurities, and how they transcribed from his shitty childhood. Eddie Munson so undeservingly got dealt a bad hand at life that his pure heart shouldn't have had to endure. But the beauty of Eddie Munson was that his pure heart still remained, even if it was picky with the people it opened up to. You were beyond please you were one of them. Because you loved loving Eddie Munson. And Eddie knew you were worth fixing said issues; anger, insecurity, jealousy. Even if it took a lot of time and a lot of risk. But your heart and face eased his worries. He'd do anything for you.

"Hey, uh," Shit, you almost forgot Dustin was still there, "I'm really sorry, too." Dustin appeared guilty as can be. "I didn't mean to be so annoying."

"No, you're not annoying-"

"Well..."

"Eddie." You swatted his chest.

"Kidding, kidding." He threw his hands up, a chuckle leaving his mouth. "I'm kidding, Dustin."

"Look, it's just nice to know someone like you actually wants to be my friend." Dustin smiled.

"Like me?" You questioned.

"Yeah, you know, funny, popular, and sweet." He nervously played with his hands.

"Aw, Dustin." You hugged him, Eddie playfully scoffed at the melting look blushing over Dustin's face, clearly loving your affection. "You're so cute, but you don't have to prioritize my friendship over the others."

"Yeah, what the hell does she got that I don't?" Eddie smiled, as you rolled your eyes and Dustin at least laughed. He marched over and ruffled Dustin's curls. "Seriously, you getting tired of us in Hellfire?" Eddie teased.

"No, never." Dustin smiled.

"Good, we need you at Hellfire. Who else are we gonna sacrifice during our DnD campaign next week?"

"What?!" Eddie barked out a laugh, as Dustin eventually caught on and eased his heart from the potential worry. "Don't scare me like that."

"But it's so fun." Eddie chuckled.

"Okay, so are we good here? No more yelling?" You assured, pointing at both with your chastising demeanor.

"Yeah, yeah, we're good." Eddie soothed your arm. "Sorry for the stress, baby."

"Yeah, sorry." Dustin added. "But do you really want me to leave?" he peered between both of you.

"Look, kid, how about this," Eddie began, "I'll take you to the comic store, where I'm sure Lucas and Max are still there. Can spend the day with them, while we have our time," he proffered, "and in return, you can stop by tomorrow when Y/N is staying over and work on one segment of our upcoming campaign."

You'd never seen Dustin's face light up so brightly before. "Really? I can help you with DnD?"

"Only one segment." Eddie clarified. "Don't need your mouth blabbin' to the others."

"Deal!"

You could physically feel the weight on your shoulders release as all tension was gone. While Eddie briefly left to change, you made sure to place in an order for pizza, as you both felt deserving of a nice meal after the ensemble that had just occurred. Eddie returned with his jacket in hand and his shoes untied, too unbothered to care.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart, I'll be sure to be quick," He leaned in planting a wet smooch on your cheek and whispered in your ear, "because my dick still kinda hurts from not cumming."

[sweetbans29]

Jersey - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin likes her jersey better on you than she does on herself (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: What any of us would do for this...

When you met Caitlin sophomore year of high school, you would have never imagined your friendship and relationship to get you where you are today. The two of you played on Iowa Attack and that is when you learned just how amazing she was.

It would be a lie to say that the two of you connected right away - you actually butted heads at the beginning. When the two of you first started playing - she wasn't the best teammate. And that was a knock to her, it was a learning curve that everyone had to navigate. She was just that good.

But once the team got more practice together and began to learn how Caitlin played and how everyone played a role, the team really began feeling like a team. It rubbed you the wrong way in the beginning but the more you got to know her and her game it made sense. She was so far ahead of everyone when it came to her knowledge of the game that you could understand where she was coming from.

It was your senior year of high school when the two of you started dating. You made the first move even though she was the one to be completely obvious when it came to her feelings for you. You wanted to make your first date memorable so you asked her mom to help.

You show up at Caitlin's house at 10AM on a Saturday morning and knock on her door. She opens the door and is surprised to see you standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Caitlin asks with a little blush.

"Why hello to you too," you say with a smile. You can Caitlin's nerves with your presence. She tries to keep it cool and play them off but you just stand there and watch her struggle. First, one of her arms comes up and leans against the door while she crosses her leg. When the door begins to move she realizes it is a bad idea and stops leaning on the door and decides to put her hands on her hips to keep her hands from fidgeting.

"You know you are cute when you are nervous," you say and she blushes even more.

"You didn't answer my question," she says trying to regain any part of this meeting.

"Well, if you must know," you say with a teasing tone and the biggest smile. "I am taking you on a date."

She looks at you with wide eyes, a smile immediately making its way to her face.

"Wait, what?" She says with a goofy grin - her heart beating faster now than it does in any game.

"Caitlin Clark, we are going on a date," you say again, your smile matching hers. Her smile fades as a realization hits her.

"Wait, my mom needs me to help her with some family stuff today," Cait says, now frowning.

"No, she doesn't, I sort of roped her into helping me block out your schedule today so I could take you out," you say proudly that your plan had worked.

"Mom!" Caitlin yells as she immediately goes to find her. When she walks away from the door, you step inside and wait for her to return.

"Mom! Aunt Ellie isn't coming over today?" Cait asks. Her mom laughs.

"Well, she is, but we don't need your help. You are going out today," her mom says as she hands Cait a bag.

"What is this?" Caitlin asks, looking at the zipped-up tote bag. She begins to unzip it.

"Nope! You can't look in there yet," Anne's hand comes and stops her daughter. "She will let you know when you can."

Caitlin turns back to look at you standing by the front door. She goes back to where you are.

"Are you ready?" You ask.

She nods with excitement and you guide her out to your car.

"So where are we going?" She asks as you begin the drive.

"You will just have to wait and see," you say with a smile.

It was almost a 3-hour car ride but you finally made it to your destination. Once you were near your final destination, you let Caitlin open the bag her mom handed her. Inside is her Chiefs jersey.

"We are not," Caitlin says as she pulls out her jersey. "There is no way."

You laugh.

"Ya, I actually just drove us out here to go watch it at some local restaurant." You say and she whips her head to look at you in disbelief.

"I kid," you say putting your hand up and telling her to look in the bag. Under the jerseys were two tickets to the game that afternoon.

The two of you spent the day cheering on the Chiefs, eating all of the stadium food you could hold, and enjoying each other's company. On the drive home, you both were riding the high of your team's win. It is only when you are pulling up to her house that she becomes quiet. You park your car and she doesn't make a move to get out.

"Why...how did you do this?" Caitlin asks looking down at her hands.

You give the girl a question look - not that she sees. When you don't answer right away she continues.

"Why me?" She asks fighting the urge inside her to remain looking at her hands and turns her head to look at you. You look at the girl with love-filled eyes and a gentle smile.

"Why not you Caitlin? We've been friends now for a few years and even though I may have had my reservations about you in the beginning, you let me in and showed me who you are. A girl who feels so deeply that she doesn't know what to do with it half the time. You may be reserved with the world, and rightfully so I might add, but you have welcomed me into your heart and have made sure I stick around a while. You never explicitly said you liked me but seeing how your actions have changed towards me the last few months - the protecting, the asking intentional questions, the nervousness, all of it never went unnoticed. You were just too busy caring for me to see that I have been trying to love you back." You say as Cait sits there in disbelief and trying to wrack her brain for any of your signs the last few months. You take her hand in yours.

"So I got tired of waiting - I felt like I knew you well enough to know at the rate you were going, you would have never asked me out before heading to Iowa and I took matters into my own hands. I got together with your mom and dad and they helped me plan this." You bring her hand up to kiss the back of it.

Caitlin is too stunned to speak - she has never had anyone who has loved her like you are. You bring your free hand to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek.

"I am going to kiss you now," you say slowly leaning in. You can see the effect you are having on her as her chest begins to rise and fall twice as fast. You bring her into a gentle kiss - it is slow and innocent. Once you pull apart, you both smile.

Now the two of you have moved to Indiana together and are starting life outside of Iowa for the first time. It's both an exciting and challenging time as Cait navigates the transition to the W right out of college. After finding an apartment - you started learning about the city while Caitlin jumped right into training camp.

The beginning of the season is a rough start as the Fever navigates a fairly new team. You can tell it all takes a toll on Cait mentally as she is trying to figure out what playing in the W looks like. The transition is something both of you were expecting but not to this degree. Her game wasn't what had been affected (at least not to the degree she was worried about) - it was everything aside of the game that Caitlin (and you) had to learn how to deal with. You did your best to make sure Caitlin was talking to her parents and even her old teammates this season to help encourage her and keep her sane.

She is incredibly thankful that you are there with her because aside from her parents, there is no one who knows the girl better than you do.

Her first game of the season was thrilling. It wasn't unfamiliar as Caitlin was used to playing in front of a packed house - it always fueled her even more. You were lucky enough to tag along and planned on being at every game of hers as she had them write it into her contract that you would travel with them to any away game. You had already been looking into flights when she mentioned you would just be traveling with the team.

You would always be close behind her when she would arrive at the stadiums and would often get pulled into quick little interviews about Caitlin. You would always hype her up and match her in some way shape or form.

After every game, the two of you would walk hand in hand with her jersey draped over your shoulder - ready to turn in for the night.

It had become a thing in college where Caitlin would pass along her jersey to you after every game. It became such a known thing that the uniform team would need to provide Caitlin a new jersey every game. It wasn't super uncommon but soon became known that after she put her game jersey on, it would never come back to them.

The fans also started to notice how you would walk out with Caitlin after the game with her jersey draped over your shoulder. The fans that had followed her in college knew that her game jersey was reserved for you but the newer fans had a field day when they found out. It became what you were known for.

You didn't expect it to be the same in the pros with Caitlin's jersey as you saw other players signing and handing off their jersey to a fan after the game. But without fail, after every game, Cait would walk out to you, jersey in hand, ready to hang it over your shoulder for your collection at home. The world knew that all game jerseys were yours, but what they didn't know is that before she would give them to you she would write some sort of cute message on them just for you. They would all conclude with her CC signature and the date.

It's the 6th game in the season when the Fever plays the Sparks for the first time. You are sitting in a box with some of the other staff and visitors for this game. By the end of the fourth - the Fever takes their first win of the season and the crowd and the team go crazy.

You make your way down the court when there are 2 minutes remaining and wait close to the bench as the team celebrates their first victory together.

Cait is pulled into a quick post-game interview with Aliyah and then is told to go meet someone courtside. You wait patiently, talking to some of the other players and congratulating them on a much-deserved win. You are talking with Lexie and Jason Sudeikis (who you have surprisingly built a friendship with as became to many of Cait's games) when you are pulled from your spot and are being dragged across the court by your girlfriend.

"Caitlin, I was in the middle of a conversation," you say yelling over the people. She brings you to a group of people and you immediately gasp when you see Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis standing there with their kids.

She introduces you and you do your best to keep your cool.

"We are such big fans of yours," you say as you hug each of them.

"You are too sweet!" Mila says as she introduces her kids.

Their daughter looks up at Caitlin with tears in her eyes and asks if she would sign and give her jersey to her.

Both Caitlin and Mila speak at the same time.

"This jersey is already claimed but I can definitely get you a signed one!" Caitlin says.

"Sweetie, you know she always gives it to her girlfriend," Mila says at the same time.

You decide to jump in.

Looking at the girl you say, " I would love if you had this jersey." Your smile beams and Caitlin is about to protest.

"But you have to promise to keep it safe for us, okay?" You say and she proceeds to nod with excitement.

You look over at Cait, who is giving you a 'but no this is yours' look and you just wave her off.

"I'll make sure it gets to you once she changes out of it okay?" You say and Ashton and Mila are both incredibly thankful for you.

"It is crazy that you knew that all of my jerseys go to her," Cait says to Mila.

"Well, we have been following you for a little while now and have seen the interview when you mentioned she has all of your jerseys from college. That is super cute," Mila says.

Caitlin blushes and you laugh.

"You would think I have enough but 139 just isn't enough," you say jokingly and Cait gives you a look of hurt - you know it is all in light spirits.

"You love it when I give you my jersey," Caitlin fights back.

"I do, and I hope you never stop," you say leaning in to hug her side, patting her on the chest.

You part ways with the Kutcher family and tell them you will get their daughter CC's jersey but not before taking a photo.

When you get back to the locker room with Caitlin, she changes and your take the jersey.

Later that night you are scrolling through your social media feed and see Mila had tagged you in a post. You pull it up to see it is the group photo that was taken followed by a photo of her daughter in Caitlin's jersey. You smile and like it, leaving a comment - 'No one else I would rather share CC's game day jersey with 🫶🏽'.

You scroll through the comments and see how cute it is and how that is a one-in-a-million jersey. You turn over to Cait, who is lying next to you, and show her.

"I can't believe you gave away my first Fever win jersey," she mumbles. You laugh at her.

"I have your pre-season win jersey! And there was no way we were saying no to Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis," you say.

"Even she was saying that jersey belonged to you," Caitlin retorts.

"I think we will both live if I don't have a jersey from today," you say and kiss her shoulder.

"That's what you think, but lucky for you - I made sure you wouldn't go home empty-handed," she says as she gets out of bed and brings her over her warm-up shirt from the game.

"Caitlin, you did not." You say sitting up and taking the shirt from her.

You look down at it and see her message.

[My girl - This first win goes to you and the heart of gold you have. Here's to many more. I love you - CC 5.24.24]

She is still standing next to your bed when you reach up to hug her. Her arms wrap around you faster than yours can wrap around her.

"I love you, you know that?" You say squeezing your girl.

"I know and I love you even more," she says as she nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck.

BONUS - SOME OF THE MESSAGES CAITLIN WRITES ON HER JERSEYS FOR YOU

[My girl - To the first of many, a little thank you. I love you - CC 11.25.20]

[My girl - Let the fun begin - CC 3.23.21]

[My girl - I tried but 46 wasn't enough. Thank you for cheering me on no matter what. I love you - CC 2.6.22]

[My girl - Thank you for the pregame pep talk, it was needed more than you know. Michigan didn't stand a chance. Love you - CC 2.27.22]

[My girl - First double-double of the season, feeling good. Love hearing you in the crowd. Love you - CC 11.10.22]

[My girl - Not the way we wanted to ring in the new year but having you here made it better. We will get them next time. Love you - CC 1.1.23]

[My girl - A triple-double to take us to the final four, who would have thought...I mean you, you knew I could. I love you - CC 3.26.23]

[My girl - That one was rough, thank you for always cheering me on. I love you - CC 4.2.23]

[My girl - The beginning of the end. So glad you are here with me. Love you - CC 11.6.23]

[My girl - Thank you for loving me through my worst. You are the best - CC 2.11.24]

[My girl - I did it, babe! Most points in D1 women's basketball AND school high with career-high scoring for a game, easy. Hope you enjoy this birthday gift, love you - CC 2.15.24]

[My girl - Not to brag but your girl is the all-time leading scorer in the NCAA. - CC 3.3.24]

[My girl - No mercy, we have been working for this all year. Love you - CC 4.1.24]

[My girl - I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me, your support at every game fueled me. Thank you, baby. Yours forever - CC 4.7.24]

[My girl - Here's to a whole new adventure and jersey for your collection. I love you - CC 5.3.24]

[My girl - This first win goes to you and the heart of gold you have. Here's to many more. I love you - CC 5.24.24]

[My girl - Marry me? - CC 9.19.24]

AN: This is cute. I'm a fan but let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[megameatymatt]

Bad Behaviour - Matt and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Matt and Chris have rules set up for you, what happens when you break one

Warning: swearing, filthyyy, smut, p in v, threesome, unprotected sex, punishment??, Dom!Matt, Dom!Chris, sub!reader, barely proof read

requested: nope!

A/N: I apologize in advance, Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

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

You, Matt, and Chris have been friends with benefits for a while now. It started off casual, but lately, things have become a lot more intense. And you can't deny that, you loved it.

The two had set up some rules for you to follow, the most important one being: Unless one of them tells you too, you can't touch yourself no matter what. It has been the hardest rule to follow, especially right now.

You're sat on Chris's bed, squeezing your thighs together, trying your hardest to ignore the throbbing between your legs. Chris is in the shower so if you wanted to break the rules, this would be your chance.

You put your phone to the side and slowly spread your legs. As soon as your hand reaches your clit, the whole world is blocked out. A moan escapes your lips and your other hand flies to your mouth in an attempt to muffle it.

You didn't hear the shower water stop running, you didn't hear Chris walk out of the bathroom. But you did hear him call your name, "Y/N, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Your eyes shoot open and you face him. "Chris wait, please don't-" Before you can finish your sentence Chris takes your hand and is practically dragging you to Matt's room. You're just happy Nick isn't here to see and hear all this.

"Go ahead Y/N, tell Matt what i caught you doing" Matt is on his bed scrolling through his phone before his eyes dart up to see you and Chris standing at his door.

"Matt I'm so sorry please-" "If you don't tell him, I will" Your gaze falls to the floor. "Fine. Matt, this little slut was touching herself" Matt smiles then sighs "What are we gonna do with you love? hm?" He teases, walking up to you and pulling your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. "So needy, can't even keep your hands to yourself

His eyes are filled with pure lust, more than you've ever seen before. "How many punishments do you have to take before you finally learn your lesson? Huh, baby? look at me" You turn to Chris, searching for sympathy in his eyes. "please, Chris I'll be good, I'll never do it again" He smirks "Beg all you want baby"

You turn back to Matt, he's usually the one who always lets you off easy "Matt, I'm so sorry" You say, looking into his eyes. "Prove it. On all fours, now"

He says pointing to the floor in front of him. You start to tremble, Your knees get weak and you slowly drop to your hands and knees. Matt undoes his belt. You pull his boxers down as he places a strand of hair behind your ear and gives you a lustful smirk.

You swirl your tongue around his tip before taking him into your mouth, your hand stroking the inches you couldn't fit. Your moans send vibrations onto Matt's cock, causing him to let out a few moans. Chris comes up behind you and grabs a fist full of your hair pushing you further down Matt's cock. "Fuck Y/N, taking me so well"

It's now you realize, you hadn't came before Chris pulled you out of his room. Almost like Chris had read your mind, he kneels down and pulls your shorts and panties down to your knees. He runs a finger down your wet folds. "So wet for us hm? you perfect little slut" He slides himself in and starts to thrust.

Tears start to run down your cheeks, Matt looks at you and smiles. "such a whore for us baby." You let out yet another moan. Matt pumps deeper into your throat and you gag. "Is that too much for you baby?" Matt says with fake sympathy "My little slut can't handle it?" without warning he cums in your mouth and pulls out. "Don't you dare spit" Chris says from behind you thrusting faster. You didn't plan on spitting, it's not like they ever let you anyway.

The warm sticky liquid slides down your throat and you stick your tongue out to show Matt it's gone. "Good girl," Matt says, "I knew you could do something right" Matt sits back and watches as your eyes roll while his brother fucks you

"Chris i'm so close" You choke out. "Cum with me ma" And with that the both of you cum.

Everything else is a blur and somehow your clothes have been discarded on the floor, and your back is rested against Chris's chest as he spreads your legs apart.

You whimper and whine as you see Matt crawl between your legs. "Don't squirm, baby, you're not going anywhere" Chris brings his head further down to leave marks on your neck. Matt teases your pussy, running his fingers up and down your folds. "Matt, please." You whine. "I don't wanna hear it bunny" Matt finally places his tongue on your clit, swirling it in figures of 8. You're eyes roll back and suddenly the sensation stops. "Don't look away, or else I'll stop" He says squeezing your inner thigh. "Do you want me to stop bunny?" You shake your head. "I need words," he says, now leaving marks on your thighs. "No Matt! please don't stop"

He smirks and continues eating you out. Meanwhile, Chris is behind you, sucking your neck and kneading your tits. You feel like you can barely breathe and you're fighting with everything in you to keep your eyes open. Matt's eyes stay on yours as he slides two fingers in at once.

"Fuck, too much," you say, barely able to form a sentence. "You can't handle it ma'? You knew the consequences, so be a good girl and take it" You whine and grab a fist full of his hair, trying to push him away. "Touch me again and I swear I'll tie you up" That's the only thing Matt says before going back to eating you out. Matt starts pumping faster and Chris is feasting on your neck so hard, you would think he's trying to draw blood.

You feel your orgasm approaching and you immediately blurt out "cum Matt, I needa cum, please" You whine. "Cum baby." And without second thoughts you release into his mouth.

Chris gets up from under you to see how gorgeous you look from Matt's angle, and he isn't disappointed. Your hair is all frizzy and tangled, and tears are falling down your cheeks. Your legs are shaking, and you are barely able to stay up. "Fucking slut, you look pathetic" "What do you say, baby, can you take one more round" You nod your head and Matt lets it slide this time, knowing you couldn't form a single sentence no matter how hard you tried. He smiles, "all fours baby"

Chris is pounding into the back of your throat while Matt is behind you thrusting, a slap landing on your ass from time to time. You're convinced you won't be able to walk for weeks after this. "Look at our slut, making up for her bad behaviour," Chris says repeatedly pushing your head further down his cock. "Letting us fuck her out" "Fuck you're so good"

Chris and Matt cum in you at the same time. You're a moaning mess, they both pull out giving you a few seconds to catch your breath. "Fuck you were amazing ma'" Chris says as he leaves the room to get a towel to clean you up. "Act like a whore again, and your punishment will be worse"

taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[lixiesfreckless]

Sugar & Spice | h. j.

A Sugar Across The Hall bonus scene

➸ synopsis: in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

➸ starring: joshua hong x reader

➸ word count: 1.9k words

➸ general content: boyfriend!joshua, kissing, slightly more than kissing lmao

➸ warnings: suggestive content, brief mention of alcohol

➸ rating: TV 16+

➸ author’s note: this can be read as a stand-alone BUT…happy one year anniversary to my magnum opus, sath. I love it to death, and I’m still not done writing for these characters, but for now, you get a much needed not-quite-hallmark-channel-approved scene. and before you get it twisted, this is and will always be dedicated to my beloved @ashonheavenscloud , but I’d like to give special thanks to @catboyieejeno for always encouraging me to stir the pot <3 love you guys a ton mwah

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! touch by keshi uhhhhhh somebody by keshi aahhhhhhh

Oh, he's really done it now.

Walking around some lively street corner a few blocks away from your shared apartment building, Joshua leads the two of you through downtown NYC at the height of spring. Strangers pass by your lovestruck duo without a second glance, not bothering to watch you look back at him with a borderline absurd amount of fondness in your irises. It's funny; usually Joshua wouldn't give spring a chance when it came to stating his favorite season, but since you waltzed into his life, he can confidently say that any of them are worthwhile—as long as you're with him. He squeezes your hand for what feels like the millionth time this evening, an action that makes you giggle happily to yourself.

Because you find it cute.

Oh, how you have no idea at all.

How tortuous this night has been for Joshua. How he regrets the day that he walked into that fateful department store, not looking for anything in particular but coming to a full stop in front of a specific mannequin. How he mentally patted himself on the back for remembering your size when you opened the gift bag a few hours earlier, eyes alight in excitement as you pulled out the present, letting the fabric unroll in your fingertips. How his face heated up as you opened your apartment door, and he quickly noted how the mannequin did the dress no justice.

Truthfully, if the dress looked as good on the mannequin as it did on you, he would have never taken it off the rack. He'd know better.

Because all through dinner he had to stop himself from staring at you and the slope of your neck, broken up by the thin straps of the halter dress and abandoned by your hair that was conveniently(to his demise) in an updo, to show off the open back. Luckily, you were so delighted by the Greek restaurant that you'd picked out that you hardly noticed his deepening flush, or the way he nearly downed his white wine in one go the second the server left your table.

And now, as you swing his hand and practically run up the stairs(because the elevator is broken, again), he finds himself almost dreading the night ahead. It's a Thursday, which means self care and Grey’s Anatomy, and while he would never turn down spending time with you, being that close to you for a prolonged period of time after the night he's had would be borderline masochistic.

Of course he contemplates all of this, but in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

So you unlock the door to your home, blabbering on about something that had happened at work and completely oblivious to the way that your boyfriend is eyeing you, torn between running towards you and running across the hall to get a grip on himself.

“Johnny went off at a customer yesterday,” you chuckled, crossing the room to set your purse down on the kitchen table. “They were being so rude, and over spilled milk too—throwing a fit over where we get our coffee beans imported from–”

You yelp in surprise, followed by a giggle at the feeling of Joshua’s hands encircling your waist from behind. His head settles in the space on your shoulder, but not before leaving a light kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“Hi,” you greet him, hands coming up to hold onto his forearms as you try to decipher the reason for this sudden display of affection.

“Hi,” he sighs, nose nudging against your pulse point, “Did I ever tell you how stunning you look in that dress?”

“No, I must have misheard you the first fifty times.”

He laughs at your little jab, willing his hands to stay still despite his growing desire to let them wander. You make the terrible decision to turn just enough so you can look at him, and it's this position that puts Joshua at his most vulnerable.

“Ready to wrap up season five?”

Looking up at him the way that you are paired with your slightly parted lips and flushed demeanor, Joshua finds himself at a loss for words, instinctively leaning into your face as his restraint wears thin. And your unfazed and accepting disposition makes it that much worse for him, his breath shaking as you flutter your eyes shut and part your lips.

The first touch of his lips is familiar, his kiss walking the line between mind-numbingly sweet and devastatingly tender as one of his hands comes up to lift your jaw. But instead of pulling away like he had originally intended, he presses harder against your mouth with a small sigh, unable to find any logical objection to the change of plans.

Your giggly demeanor fizzles out under the heat of his mouth, and your breath escapes you once his hand slides down to your neck, fingers languidly tracing the curve and playing with the straps that rest there. In contrast to his slow hands, his kisses grow faster and almost desperate, not wanting to separate for even a second as he tilts his head and slants his mouth against yours.

You stumble backwards slightly in pleasant surprise, and the table hits just above the hem of your skirt before the arm around your waist tightens, pulling you further into Joshua’s chest.

He takes this opportunity to lean forward slightly, clearing the table with a sweep of the arm that was holding you before hoisting you up onto it, hands firm on your thighs and then sliding down to your knees so he can part them.

“Josh,” you whisper breathlessly, clutching onto his shoulders as your eyes dazedly flicker between his lips and his eyes. His lower lip gets trapped between his teeth as his strength falters, gaze hardly able to meet yours as his fingers dance along the scalloped hem of your dress.

“Oh God, don't do that baby,” he nearly moans, and the pet name turns your brain waves into radio static. You've never heard him sound so helpless, as if his very fate would be decided by whatever you choose to say next. “You make it so hard to just sit and watch TV with you sometimes. Especially when you look like this.”

Knowing now that you have the upper hand, you decide to humor yourself and tease him a bit, leaning forward with a slight smirk on your lips. “Like what?”

His eyes drink you in from head to toe, taking their time to memorize all of your body lines in the flattering dress. If the opportunity were to present itself tonight, he doesn't know whether he would even want to take it off of you.

He leans in close, hoping that his desire translates well as it's mumbled against the skin of your neck.

“So damn good.”

His confession against your sensitive skin has you muffling a whine, gripping the edge of the table as your rationale evaporates under his searing lips, traveling higher and higher with each press.

You can't take his teasing much longer, and frankly, this side of him doesn't come out often enough for you to pass up an opportunity such as this. Meredith Grey will have to wait.

“You know…” you whisper, head tilting back as you feel his hand slipping behind your neck to support it, “they play reruns on Friday nights too.”

“Thank God, ‘cause you in this dress has been driving me crazy since you put it on,” he chuckles against your lips before catching them with his again, taking his time now to fully taste you, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to elicit that delightful shiver that runs up your spine. You respond in earnest with your hands, carding through his brown locks and nearly melting when he doesn't suppress the groan that tumbles from his throat.

He kisses you like you’re air itself, hands sliding up your skirt and body pressing against yours, and once your nails slide down his scalp he softly groans into your mouth, moving onto kissing across your jawline. You repeat the action while winding your legs around Joshua’s waist, and he whines quietly into your neck, “Please…tell me to stop before I can’t.”

So subtly you almost miss it, he rolls his hips into yours, his desires clouding his judgment as a foreign sound jumps to the top of your throat. Immediately your attention is drawn to the heat you feel in your abdomen, and while you have grown accustomed to bearing it in silence, you’re finding it increasingly hard to ignore with him like this, hands all over you.

Wanting you.

He does it again, with a little more pressure this time, and your head falls back as a whimper just barely tumbles out of your lips. He shivers slightly, nearly overcome with the exertion of fighting every urge to take you on this table this instant.

To temporarily solve this problem, his lips find yours again, but feeling your muffled moans against him proves to be no more effective than trying to put out a forest fire with a garden hose.

As his hips softly grind into yours and your kisses get more and more frantic, your voice of reason pushes through the heavy cloud of lust at the forefront of your brain. “Wait, I've never–”

“We don't have to baby,” he cuts you off, wanting to make his intentions clear despite being unable to put an inch of space between the two of you, “and I don't want to just yet, but I…”

His hand that was previously bunched in your dress comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing gently against the redness of your cheek as he calms himself down with a deep breath.

And as he gazes at you with nothing but adoration in his brown irises, you can almost feel the words coming before he says them out loud.

“I…I am so in love with you,” he begins, fighting a chuckle born out of the absurd location of this sudden confession, “that sometimes, when I look at you, I can’t even think straight, and I…” he trails off, struggling to find the right words the longer he stares at you.

You, on the other hand, are practically beaming, bottom lip trapped by your teeth in an attempt to fight the smile you’d be flashing him, so as to not distract him any further. But you soon realize; with him seated between your legs, there’s not much you can do to help him out here.

So you switch to offense, legs squeezing him tight around his waist to pull his hips back to yours. “You what?”

His chocolate eyes darken to a coffee color in seconds, and the hand that was on your hip tightens again, keeping you firm in place on the table as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“Sometimes I wish I could just show you how much you drive me crazy.”

You don’t hesitate, lifting your chin to meet his lips in a deceptively chaste kiss as your hands fall onto the buttons on his shirt, playing with them just to rile him up further.

You shrug, feigning indifference. “Maybe you can.”

And at that, before you can even register what’s happening, he’s sliding an arm around your waist and under your knees, picking you up and heading towards your bedroom with a chuckle.

“Maybe I should.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

click to read Sugar Across The Hall

[villainbait]

An Exercise in Solace

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: T | Teen Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt, comfort, PTSD mentions, reader has PTSD, canon sylus behavior, Summary: Today should've been like any other when you stepped into the sparring ring with Sylus, except it wasn't. Word Count: 1k

The door to Sylus’s bedroom swings open and he finds you sprawled out on his couch, holding this month’s travel magazine above your face. Your legs are thrown over one arm and you’re kicking them lazily back and forth as you turn the page. When you hear the door open, you glance over at him and pretend not to see him dressed to work out, your eyes flicking back to the glossy pages of paradise in your hands. 

“Hey, what do you think about-” 

Sylus plucks the travel magazine from your hands and you pout up at him. “You can choose where we go after we practice today, kitten.” To argue with Sylus is useless, because both of you know in the end who will win the verbal spar. You sigh, rolling off the couch reluctantly and popping to your feet. 

“...Fine.” You go get ready and prepare yourself for the hours ahead. 

You meet up with him again in the training room and find Sylus already warmed up. Thinking that was a little odd but dismissing it as his usual eagerness to spend time with you, you let him walk you through your paces. By the time he’s satisfied you’re ready to enter the ring in the middle of the room, you’re already tired.

“I won’t go easy on you today, sweetie.” Sylus purrs and seems playful as the two of you face each other, but there’s a slight edge to his tone.

It makes you tense and a little wary. 

As the two of you begin to spar, the exchange of blows seems routine as usual. You find yourself blocking and dodging most of his attacks, but you’re clearly unfocused and not taking this seriously at all. You miss the way Sylus’s face hardens in frustration and he turns away after deflecting a blow from you with ease. 

“Let’s make a deal, kitten.” 

You perk up at the mention of a deal, suddenly more animated than you were a moment ago. When he offers you the thing you’ve been begging for from him for weeks, you jump at the chance without caring what it might cost you.

Once the deal has been made he turns back to face you, but his expression is unreadable. 

The moment he rushes you and you barely defend yourself from his onslaught is when the realization starts to sink in that this might not be one of Sylus’s many games anymore. Before, Sylus had been kind, gentle when the two of you spent time together like this. 

Loving, in the way he had taught you.

You dance backward, desperate to avoid his long reach and trip, hitting the ground hard. Sylus doesn’t even try to catch you like he usually would, his gaze downcast as he closes the distance you had created. 

“Get up,” he says tersely. Your ears are still ringing from where he’d clipped you on the jaw seconds ago. “Get up.” There's an edge of panic to the sharpness of his tone that makes you angry.

“Give me a-” 

“Will they?” he taunts, but he’s not smiling as he’s closing in. “Will the wanderers wait for you while you catch your breath? Do you think they would be as polite as I am, sweetie?” 

You growl and push yourself unsteadily to your feet and stagger sideways; catching yourself with one hand on your knee. Sylus tamps down his pride that you stood up so quickly after the blow he dealt you, knowing that many men wouldn’t have gotten back up again at all. You’re so weak and it eats away at him how reckless you are sometimes, how invincible you think you are. He needs you to be strong so he doesn’t have to worry about you. This is all he can do when you insist on putting yourself in danger or going into no hunt zones without him where he cannot protect you. A gnawing fear grips him at just how close you had come to dying last time. What if you weren't so lucky next time?

What if—

“Come at me again.” Gone were the pet names, the cajoling, the easy, teasing smiles he wore during your practice matches.

The pounding in your head makes it hard for you to think, but you’re angry with him and with yourself. As much as you hate to admit it, Sylus is right. The wanderers and wanted men you hunted wouldn’t afford you the same courtesy Sylus does and would continue to hurt innocent people while you could do nothing. The thought of not being able to even save yourself consumes you and you attack Sylus recklessly. It takes him by surprise, and the two of you are fighting for real. You realize you can’t land a blow on him and it’s infuriating. 

Your vision blurs and you swallow the urge to scream as the flashbacks of all the times you hadn’t been fast enough, strong enough, just enough to save all of those people. How, even last week, the memory of how you had almost died if Sylus hadn’t found you in time threatens to choke you with disappointed rage. 

He feels your punch to his stomach but there’s no strength behind it, your head bowed and body trembling violently. Sylus catches you the moment your legs give out and gathers you into the safety of his arms. 

The pang of guilt Sylus feels is worse than any shot to the gut he’s ever taken. He pushed you too far, too fast, and he knows it.

He lowers the both of you to the ground and you find yourself cradled in his lap, your fingers digging into his skin as you cling onto him and sob. The comfort Sylus offers you is paltry at best, but he tries as his hand awkwardly soothes you as gently as he can manage. His fingers trace over your back in a slow, comforting pattern and he doesn't know if it's working when you cry harder. His murmured words against your hair are filled with soft apologies and the tender promises of whatever you wanted would be yours, no matter the cost.

Sylus makes you look at him once you calm down and his words drip with sincerity and conviction. 

“I can’t give you back what you’ve already lost, kitten, but I can help you protect what’s yours going forward.”

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.3

Summary: Sirius gives you a ride

The whole morning was a rush, one big disastrous rush. It started with you jolting awake in a panic, your alarm on your phone didn’t go off. You quickly searched around for it and found that you hadn’t plugged it in to charge last night. Cursing you hastily plugged it in to at least get some charge before work.

You rushed to the bathroom, flipping on the shower and brushing your teeth while waiting for the water to warm up, which took a considerably long time due to James showering earlier. You jumped in, water still half cold, and showered in a frenzy, water surely flying everywhere in the bathroom. You jumped out, toweled off and wrapped it around your body before rushing back into your room. You would usually dress before going back into your room, being that the bathroom was down the hall, and you didn't want to run into any embarrassing situations like having one of the boys see you dripping wet without any clothes, but you had no time today.

In your room you looked for something to wear, settling on a long sleeve top and some jeans, throwing a jacket on top, and a plain pair of shoes. This would be fine for working all day, comfortable. You picked up your phone, reading that it was only at 5% charged. You groaned and texted Lily,

Cover for me, im gonna be late

She replied only moments later,

Im sick love, i wont be in either… how are you getting there?

You hadn’t thought that far ahead. Lily usually picked you up in the mornings, you were on the way. But now… you don't have a car. You unplugged your phone and shoved it in your pocket, making your way downstairs. Maybe you can catch the train, it’ll pop you out a few blocks away but… maybe the bus? You were going to be so late, you started accepting that you were going to be fired.

Reaching the last step, you see Remus and Sirius lounging on the big, comfy couch. Remus reading a book and Sirius reading a magazine, legs entangled with each other. They looked quite at ease, until they noticed that you had entered. Sirius immediately removed his legs from Remus’s and sat correctly on the couch. You didn’t note the slight panic and red tint on their faces. “Oh, hi boys, um I’m running super late.” you said nearly out of breath. “I overslept.”

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Remus.

“Uh… Do you think the train or the bus would be faster? I think if I can minimize how late I am I may be able to salvage my job.” You joked. The boys didn’t quite laugh.

“What?” Sirius asked.

“I mean, which one is faster? Do you know?”

The boys looked at each other, then back at you. “You're not taking the bus. Nor the train, both are gross.” Remus said

It was your turn to laugh now. “But I have to, I have work and I am already really late and-”

“I’ll take you.” Sirius interrupted. You just blinked.

“No! That’s ok, you two looked comfortable there, I just need-”

“It’s not a problem darling, besides I was just telling Remus that we needed batteries. I was going to head out anyway.” Sirius tried to persuade you.

You were desperate. And you didn’t like to deny the boys when they were so generous. And you really needed this job. “Ok…” you said meekly.

Sirius beamed at you and ran up to his room, likely to grab his keys. You smiled after him. “Don’t let him drive too fast, he has a habit of being a bit reckless.” Remus commented to you now that Mr. Reckless was upstairs.

“I can’t make that promise.” you laughed together

“Alright!,” Sirius called, bounding down the stairs now in a leather jacket. “You warm enough? If not you can have mine” he said rushed. Before you could say bye to Remus, Sirius was grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you after him through the front door. You squealed as you practically ran to keep up with him. You didn’t know that Sirius had a car but it made sense, you pictured maybe a sporty car, probably red. Or black.

You didn't, however, picture a large black motorcycle. You stopped dead in your tracks as Sirius made for the bike and swung a leg over. He held out a hand, beckoning for you to do the same. You again, just blinked. “Sirius…” you started.

“Oh yeah!” he said as if realizing his mistake and grabbing his matching black helmet, handing it to you. “Come on love, I thought you said you were late.”

“Sirius I can’t get on that!” you protested

“Oh, I’ll help you on-”

“You didn't tell me you had a motorcycle! I thought you'd take me in a car.”

“I didn’t mention it? Huh…”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. You were desperate but a motorcycle…

“Come on love, I promise I’ll get you there in one piece. I’ll go slow.” he looked at you hopefully. “You can wear my helmet, you can tell me if I’m going too fast, and you can get off anytime you want, though I wouldn’t advise that because you need to get to work quickly.”

Desperate. The only way you’d get on the back of his bike. Desperation.

Taking Sirius’s hand and climbing on behind him, put the helmet on, and your arms around his waist. Squeezing tight. This made Sirius chuckle.

“I still have to be able to breathe, doll,” Sirius said while kicking off. You loosened your death grip but still held on.

Remus was right, Sirius had a habit of driving like a madman. More than a few times you had to yell at him to slow down or be safer. You could tell he was trying, for your sake, but you would hate to see how he normally drives. 

All in all, he did get you there alive, and very quickly. You thanked him and hopped off the bike. “See that wasn’t so bad was it?” he said to you with a smile. You laughed.

“How does my hair look? Ok?” you asked.

“You look gorgeous, love.” This made a noticeable heat rise to your face. “Do you need me to pick you up?”

You weighed your options again; bus, train, death machine with Sirius. You figured, anything could be made fun as long as it was with Sirius, death trap or not. So you nodded and smiled at the boy.

Taglist : @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4

[motorsportbarbie13]

Forbidden - Part 7

In which you get your happily ever after with Maxie

OH MY GOD HERE IT IS. I'm so sad this is over but this ending feels so good. I'll probably do an epilogue soon too (and drabbles and head cannons too, if you want to see something about these two send me a message) so you'll get more of these babies, not to worry. Also, requests are open so if there's something else you want, send it in!!!)

Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen X LeClercSister!Reader Word count: 1.7k words (kinda short but super sweet)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Master List

“You sure you’re up for this?” Max asks you as he pulls the sleek black Aston Martin into the car park at the race track the next morning. His hand stretches out, interlacing his fingers with yours to give you a reassuring squeeze. 

You look over at him, soft smile on your face. “I am.” 

And it was the truth. After your reunion last night, things just fell into place. Max had asked you to be all in with him and while you still had some reservations about being in such a public relationship, especially when you had spent your life wanting nothing more than to be out of the spotlight, with Max it just felt right. 

You knew that walking into the paddock this morning was going to cause quite the stir. You’d been around the paddock enough this season that most of the media knew you were Charles LeClerc’s sister but today you weren’t showing up for Charles, you would be showing up in a navy blue dress on the arm of Max Verstappen. Tongues were absolutely going to wag. 

“If you get too overwhelmed at any point today, let me know. I’ve got you credentials to get into any of the Red Bull buildings but I can always have an intern drive you back to the hotel too.” 

You could tell Max was more nervous about this than you were, which endeared him to you even more. 

“Maxie, I’ll be fine. I’ve been to how many races already this year? I know how this works. I’ll find Kika or…” You pause. You were about to say Alex but truthfully, you didn’t know if Alex would be a welcoming face today. She meant well and was your friend, but she was Charlie’s girlfriend first. “I’ll find someone to hang out with, don’t worry.” You finish, brushing aside the sudden ache for your brother. 

“Does he know you’re here?” Max asks, reading the look of apprehension on your face expertly. 

You shake your head before reaching up to take the block M and V pendants between your fingers, rubbing them to sooth the anxiety building in your chest. “No, we haven’t spoken since that day in Monaco.” 

“I’m sorry, schatje.” 

You shrug, “It’s fine. He’ll get over it once he realizes this thing between you and me is more than just a fling.” 

You hoped. 

Max pulls the car into his designated spot before hopping out, telling you to wait so he can help you out of the low slung ride. You take his hand, giving it a squeeze of thanks when you see the anxiety playing on his face. “I’m fine, Max. Stop being a mother hen.” 

Max’s shoulders droop as he releases a long breath. “I just want this to go well. I want you happy.” 

Max had been worried all morning that he had pushed you to go public too soon. He desperately wanted you there with him, but he also knew that things were complicated. You still weren’t talking to Charles, the attention that came along with being his girlfriend still intimidated you, and it was his home race so all eyes were on him even more. It was a lot to take in and he didn’t want anything to go wrong, even though he knew that he couldn’t control everything. He just wanted you to be happy and if you had told him you didn’t want to be there, he would have instantly sent you back to the hotel without him, no questions asked. 

Grinning up at him, you ignore the flurry of activity that has kicked up as people realize that Max has arrived ahead of this mornings last free practice. “I’m here with you and I don’t have to hide the fact that I’m madly in love with you anymore. Nothing could dampen my day, mon amor.” 

To emphasize your point, you stand on tiptoes in order to dust a quick kiss on Max’s lips, grinning when his arms circle your waist to he can pull you in closer. You hear the click of a few camera shutters faintly and you know you’re being watched. It doesn’t bother you though, much to your surprise. It doesn’t bother you because the moment Max’s hands are on you, the entire world fades away and all that matters is that you’re here with him. 

“Come on, I don’t want Christian to blame me for making you late.” You murmur, grinning when Max reaches down to twine his fingers with yours. 

You and Max make your way towards the entrance of the paddock, your Red Bull credentials hanging around your neck. It’s weird, showing up to the track in something other than Ferrari red. Part of you wondered if you’d feel out of place or like you were betraying your brother but the moment Max zipped up the back of the lacy navy blue dress you wore today, you knew that this was the right decision. 

A gaggle of photographers are positioned just inside the paddock entrance, waiting to capture the drivers arrivals and as soon as they notice Max, several cameras swing in your direction. Max takes the lead, swiping his credentials first and you follow shortly after, swiping in your own Red Bull credentials Max had made sure were waiting for you at the front desk this morning. 

“Max! How are you feeling this morning after yesterday’s crash?” One of the photographers asks as he takes a photo of the two of you. 

“I’ve got a great team behind me, they worked late into the night to get the car back in shape. I have no doubt we’ll be just fine today.” He remarks, giving the photographer a polite smile. 

“And who do you have with you today? Is that…” 

“My girlfriend.” Max interrupts the photographer before he can finish his sentence. “She surprised me last night, I didn’t think she’d be here but I’m glad to have her by my side this weekend.” 

You don’t miss the looks that a few of the press exchange at his quick claiming of you. It’s been a while since Max has brought anyone with him to the paddock that he’s dating, and people have already clocked that you’re a LeClerc, raising some eyebrows before you even make it to the Red Bull hospitality. 

As you walk further into the paddock, you begin to hear whispers follow you, heat prickling at the back of your neck. F1 is such a small world, you know it won’t be long before word gets to your brother that you’re here and that you’re here with Max. Strangely though, it doesn’t bother you. Not with the steady presence of Max by your side, his hand securely covering yours as he leads you towards Red Bull’s area of the paddock. 

You have to pass the red building of Ferrari though and you can’t help the stitch of anxiety that fixes itself in your side as you approach the red and yellow building. Max notices the change in your gait as you slow down just a touch. He turns to you, brows knit together. “Are you okay, liefje?” 

You nod but your attention quickly shifts from Max to the approaching figure, body going completely still as you realize who is making their way over to you. 

“Hi Charlie.” You say, desperately trying to keep the anxious quiver out of your voice as your brother stalks towards you. 

Max takes a step towards Charles, putting himself between you and your brother. He’d be damned if Charles was going to ruin this for either of you. 

“I just want to say hello to my sister, Max.” Charles holds his hands up to show he means no harm. “I’m not going to cause a scene in the middle of the paddock.” 

Max glares at him through narrowed eyes. “One step out of line and I’ll send you into the fucking wall this weekend, LeClerc. Don’t fucking test me, I’ll do it.” Max’s voice is low and dangerous. “I don’t care how many points I cost the team. You’re going to be nice to her or you’re going to leave her alone, those are you two choices.” 

Charles’ brows rise at the venom in Max’s voice but he simply nods. “I understand. I appreciate you being protective over her.” 

“I shouldn’t have to be protective over her with her own fucking brother.” He grumbles, but you reach out a hand, placing it on Max’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Maxie.” You murmur. “He’ll be nice, won’t you Charlie?” 

“I just wanted to say hi and see if maybe we can talk, just the two of us, sometime this weekend?” Charles reaches up to rub at his neck, unable to keep eye contact with either of you. His shoulders slump and you can tell he’s feeling remorseful. 

Despite the fact that you know Max wants to tell him to fuck right off and you kind of half way agree with him, you simply nod. “I’d like that, but right now Max and I have to get over to Red Bull’s hospitality. He has a meeting shortly, don’t you Maxie?” 

Max takes your hand, pulling it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it, before turning back to Charles. “See you out there, mate.” 

As you walk away, you can't help the pang of sadness that rattles it’s way thought your bones. You loved your brother, more than life, and you knew eventually you’d be able to reconcile with him. But right now? Right now all you could hear when you saw him was the names he had called you and the things he had said that night in Monaco when he had discovered you with Max. It hurt and you weren’t quite ready to let go of the hurt yet. 

As you walked away, hand in hand with Max, he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” 

“More than okay, mon amor. I am so happy I’m here with you and we don’t have to hide anymore. Now, lets get you to your team. You have a race to win tomorrow.” 

Max grins down at you, heart swelling with pride that he gets to have you on his arm all weekend. “I love you, liefje.��� 

“I love you too, Maxie.” 

Tag List:

@shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀FAVORITE DATES . —

#pairing : lucifer, angel dust, alastor x gn reader #cw : fluff honestly, idk what else to tell you. a bit of crack perhaps? reader specializes in photography for lucifer and alastor's part. #summary : their favorite kind of date with you + drabble for each of them. #note : extremely in need of fluff and comfort from lucifer specifically atm, so here i am writing for him + a few others :3 hope this will cheer you up as how it did to me.

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer loves bringing you to the prettiest places he can find. he'd wrap you tightly in his arms, unfurling his wings and allowing them to warm up with gentle flaps. he reassures you every time before take-off, his legs gently pushing the both of you from the handrail of your balcony as his feathered blades softly fanned the still air, flying at a steady and comfortable pace. if you request for him to stop mid air for a picture, he'll gladly do so until you get the perfect shot of the scenery in hell.

the sin filled air gently brushes past your face, your hands holding dearly onto lucifer as well as your camera. you take note of every detail you can get from the places where lucifer flies by, the sparkle in your eyes never fading ever since he suggested another one of your favorite dates. his heart melts every time he sees your excitement, a soft smile unknowingly creeping up onto his lips.

"darling, could you do me a favor and close your eyes for a moment? we're about to arrive at the special place i mentioned." with a nod, you close your eyelids gently; all you can see now is the weak light that shines through your eyelids. lucifer mutters a quick thank you, pressing a sweet kiss onto your forehead and increasing his speed through the air. you can hear the sounds of his wings flapping louder than before.

it wasn't long until everything came to a halt, lucifer slowly lowering the both of you from the air until the ground came in contact with your feet. you can practically hear the excitement in lucifer's voice. he cups your eyes from behind, fingers blocking the light that was previously visible through your eyelids as he guides you to walk around the unfamiliar surroundings step by step. "almost there, i just know you'll love it."

"getting impatient here, luci." you state playfully with a light chuckle, following his guide with your hands clutching onto the camera hanging from your neck. "alright. on three, i'll be removing my hands from your eyes. don't get too sucked up by the beautiful view by then,"

a sense of exuberance bubbles inside of you as you listen to his countdown, an uncontrollable smile stretching your lips. "and.. three." lucifer removes his hands from your face, the brightness stinging your eyes which took you a short moment to adjust to the lightning. you blink, the breathtaking scenery displayed in front of you sucked your breath away immediately. the sky is a beautiful shade of red and purple that perfectly med together, and the sunbeams illumined the immediate surroundings, partly obscuring the sky-high mountains a great distance ahead.

the scenery stole your ability to speak for minutes before you snapped back to reality, throwing yourself into lucifer's arms. you wrap your arms around his lean figure, feeling him returning your tight hug as well. "thank you for bringing me here! oh satan, this will be perfect for my collection."

you claim with a sing-song tone, abruptly pulling away from the hug to start taking perfect shots of the scenery before losing the chance to. you need the pictures in your camera, and you're not going home until you're satisfied. you take your time to perfect every angle and lightning, fully absorbed by photography at the moment.

lucifer watches you from the side, his gaze fixated on your every movement and the excitement that displays on your face, leaning his weight further onto his cane. it's always moments like this that remind him how deeply in love he is with you, always causing him to fall in love all over again.

ʚ ANGEL DUST .

there is no designated spot, but angel loves going on shopping sprees with you. he calls it the ideal date; going for spa, clothing, accessories, you name it. he loves the idea of spoiling each other, where the both of you would take turn to pay for anything the both of you got. the both of you will talk and laugh about anything while walking, hips practically linked together as you walk. at the end of everything, the two of you will sit together at the place where you both first met, silently appreciating each other's comforting presence while talking about memories you shared together.

"oh baby, look at these gems they're sellin'!" angel pulls you by the arm, pressing himself against the wide glass window with multiple sunglasses on display. one particular design caught his eye; it's displayed in the middle among the others. with his toothy grin widening, he glances at you with a click on the tongue. "i say we hit the jackpot t'day, dont'cha agree?"

"jackpot indeed, these babies are definitely worth it. shall we head in and get ourselves a matching pair of them?" you link your arm with his as he presses a quick kiss onto your forehead, mumbling a small 'ya know me so well' before walking into the store with you. the welcome bell rings the moment you push the door open, the store owner's head shooting up from the cashier almost immediately. a wide smile appears on their face, excited to welcome the both of you while jogging towards your direction.

"welcome, welcome! what an honor to have the famous couple visiting my little store. has anything caught your eyes, my dear? or would you like me to pair you up with some that matches you?" the owner clasped their hands together beside their face, their gaze constantly shifting between you and angel, feeling absolutely thrilled.

angel points his thumb towards the same glasses he told you about outside the store, shifting his weight to one leg. "are those still available? we'll take two of 'em please." giving a quick glance at the direction angel is pointing at, the owner nods with their eyes lighting up.

"fabulous choice, they're the customer's all-time favorite! you're in luck today, there are only two stocks left. i'll go grab them for you."

the owner turns their back and walks towards the big shelves storing nicely packaged sunglasses. with a brief scan, they reach out to grab the two boxes on one of the shelves. the boxes are rose gold while the others are white, making them easy to look for. they jog towards you and angel, holding out the two boxes in their hands. "all nice and packed, the glasses you asked for! go ahead and try them on, I'll be waiting behind the counter."

you accept the boxes with a mutter of 'thank you', passing one of the boxes to angel. he whistles, practically ripping the glasses out from the box. "these babies are prettier up close! feelin' sexier with them on, what 'bout you?" you chuckle at angel's claim, playfully rolling your eyes at him before trying the sunglasses on. the light around your eyes instantly grows soft and comfortable, allowing your eyes to relax while looking around.

"how do i look? they feel perfect on me."

"absolutely perfect!" angel exclaims while throwing his arms up in the air, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. his smile is wide enough to flash the golden tooth he has as his arm embrace your waist, his upper pair of his arm pinching your cheek playfully. "if it looks perfect on me, it'll definitely look perfect on ya."

you laugh, pressing a kiss onto his hand that pinched your cheek. "whatever you say, dear. now let me go pay for these then we'll be done with shopping." he tags along as you pay for the sunglasses, thanking the store owner before exiting. you walk down the street with your arm linked with angel's, your sunglasses sitting neatly on the top of your head.

"headin' to the garden t'day?" angel questions while walking down the familiar street with you. you nod, keeping your gaze up ahead. "nonsense, 'course we are. it's something we do after every date, my favourite part actually."

ʚ ALASTOR .

alastor values quality time together, which results in long walks being his favorite dates with you. he always has the best places to take you on walks, sometimes even preparing a gift for you if he manages to get his hands on one. the walk would most likely be filled with comfortable silence unless you're a chatty one, to which alastor would be more than happy to listen. he's a great listener, after all, listening to you talk makes him feel content as well. physical affection will be reduced in public, but if you're in a secluded area and he's comfortable enough, you may receive some small affectionate kisses; on your hands especially.

your surroundings are almost dead silent; these sinners either do their best to avoid alastor - the radio demon, or whisper about the both of you. not that you mind, you prefer things staying as it is since neither of you would have to worry about anyone disrupting your peaceful little date. with a hum, you adjust your sleeves, parting your lips to spark up yet another topic that so happened to cross your mind.

"have i told you about the new pictures i've taken recently?" you flash him a smile, excited to share your new works for photography. with an acknowledged hum, alastor gently shakes his head as he keeps his hands neatly folded behind him. "i suppose you have not. do enlighten me, my dear." you're delighted that he's willing to listen as always; something about it just draws you more towards his charm.

"gladly! you see, i hung out with rosie a few days ago since she wouldn't stop asking me about it." you pause for a quick moment before speaking again. "i'd say the cannibal town fascinates me all the time. i took pictures of the scenery there, and of course, lots of rosie because she's so photogenetic. speaking of which," something clicked in your head. you shuffle through your pockets and pull out a polaroid, placing it in front of alastor. "have a look at one of them, i happened to bring one with me."

he takes the polaroid from your hand, flipping it over to see the picture you've taken. it's a picture of rosie in a field of black roses, even embracing some in her arms. she's smiling at the camera - alastor assumes that it was rosie who suggested that you take a few snaps with your photography skills. angle, lightning, poses, you've perfected everything in this picture alone.

as always, your skills never fail to amaze alastor no matter how many times he sees your work. "such ravishing work of art! i am absolutely floored." the grin on his face softens ever so slightly, a sign that shows that he's being genuine. he passes the little piece of picture back into your hands, his gaze now fixated on you. you keep the polaroid back in your pocket nicely, giving it a light pat.

"my, im honored. is this an attempt of yours to flirt?" you chuckle playfully despite knowing full well that your comment was fully incorrect. you just like messing around, is all. alastor shakes his head at your miserable attempt to poke fun at him, laughing lightly. he stops in his tracks, scanning his surroundings briefly. not many sinners around, it should be alright.

"ha-ha! of course not, my dear. though, this should count as one." small steps, alastor now stands before you. your eyes search his in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you try to figure out what could he possibly be planning. his hand moves to hold yours with a good amount of delicacy, his face leaning down closer to your hand with each passing second until his lips press against your knuckles. he lets them linger on your warm skin before pulling away, his lips leaving a cold sensation along with an odd warmth spreading across your skin.

you stare at him, breathing almost coming to a halt as you watch the smugness on his face grow. a light blush tints your face and ears, your gaze growing avoidance to his soul-piercing one. it's clear that he's enjoying the reaction you hold. "not going to comment on it? is it because my 'attempt at flirting' worked well this time?" his words made you roll your eyes, playfully sighing in annoyance. of course he'd pull this trick, how did you not see it coming?

"no comment." is all you said to answer his question before motioning for him to lean in closer. he did as you asked without question, figuring that there might be something you'd like to tell him. a kiss on his cheek from you caught him by surprise as it was not what he expected to happen. "guess you're not the only one able to pull this trick. we're equal now, yes?"

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.