#but damn. . .pour one out for our boy

[dollypopup]

'colin needs to grovel' 'colin should suffer' 'pen can't let him off easy'

please, his mother in law is about to be PORTIA, doesn't the man have enough curses in his life?

[lilirari]

🫧 basically just going on different kinds of dates with lando <3

💌 lando norris x fem! reader (social media au)

💭 author's note : i loved making this fr !! i was going to include some writing parts but.. i kinda got lazy 🧍‍♀️ if you guys want the writing part though, i'll work on it and post it. the part two to this + oscar's version is also in the works !

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 🧩 𖦹 ˚. ᵎᵎ lego date ! ⭑

instagram 🎥

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 19,444,127 others

yourinstagram lego date with the loml ! he gave me that bouquet of lego flowers in the morning 🥹🤍 last pic is him trying to find that one missing lego piece.

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landonorris pretty flowers for my pretty flower ♡

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris ok but did you take that piece 🤨

-> yourinstagram no oscar ate it

-> oscarpiastri i did what

-> landonorris oscar regurgitate my lego piece

-> oscarpiastri I DIDN'T EAT YOUR LEGO PIECE I WASN'T EVEN PRESENT DURING YOUR SILLY LITTLE DATE

charles_leclerc what a fun idea ! 🤍

carlossainz55 😍

lilymhe @/alex_albon where's my lego bouquet 😒

-> alex_albon you can make your own

-> lilymhe wtf

danielricciardo very cute

pierregasly je devrais en faire un pour kika 🥰

-> yourinstagram yes you should 🫡 she'd love it

oscarpiastri i'm surprised he has the attention span to build a whole lego bouquet

-> alex_albon right ???

-> landonorris STFU

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 🎡 𖦹 ˚. ᵎᵎ amusement park date ! ⭑

instagram 🎥

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, lnfour and 16,999,345 others

yourinstagram third-wheeled my boyfriend and his boy space friend today. i would've included the video i took of lan screaming while we were on the rollercoaster but i'll have mercy on your ears for the time being 😞

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landonorris wdym boy space friend he's literally my boyfriend

-> yourinstagram ... wow ok didn't expect you to come out of the closet this soon 😦📸

-> landonorris sorry love, it's always been max 🫣🤞

-> maxfewtrell .. um yeah no y/n take him away i don't want him

landonorris baby, istg if you show anyone that video...

-> yourinstagram i promise i won't show it to anyone dw pookie 😘

lnfour 🫶🫶🫶

oscarpiastri send me that video of lando

-> yourinstagram i already did

-> oscarpiastri nice

-> landonorris ???

-> landonorris whatever happened to 'i promise i won't show it to anyone' ?

-> yourinstagram ... oops 😅

-> landonorris 😃

riabish aww wish i could've joined you today ☹️

carmenmmundt the cutest couple ! ❤️

alex_albon i desperately need that video

-> yourinstagram sent 🫡

-> landonorris Y/N !!!!

-> yourinstagram oops i gtg🏃‍♀️

quadrant our parents ! (and max)

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 🍣 𖦹 ˚. ᵎᵎ sushi date ! ⭑

instagram 🎥

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, yukitsunoda0511 and 17,888,645 others

yourinstagram hey guys i have some news... lando and i have recently separated ways because of the contrast in our interests. i wish him nothing but the worst and i hope all his christmas gifts will be fish related xx

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landonorris STOP

landonorris all this because i won't eat sushi for you..

-> yourinstagram if you won't eat sushi for me i don't want you get away !!

-> landonorris ... if i eat One (1) sushi for you will you stop this madness

-> yourinstagram maybe.. maybe not ☺️

-> landonorris baby give me a definite answer

-> yourinstagram ok ok i'll stop if you eat one

-> landonorris .. fine i'm doing this only for you

-> yourinstagram hehe i love u

landonorris guys we're still together don't worry she's just spreading fake news like a LIAR

-> yourinstagram girl spelt backwards it's liar 🤭

carlossainz55 sushi... war flashbacks

-> yourinstagram CARLOS HELDPDHSHDHDH

-> yourinstagram " iT's nEaR a fiSh "

-> yourinstagram i got him to eat an actual sushi though i won

-> carlossainz55 damn you did the impossible it must be true love

yukitsunoda0511 please get back together i'll make fishless sushi for you lando please just get back with y/n 😭

-> yourinstagram OH YUKI NO WE DIDN'T ACTUALLY BROKE UP DON'T WORRY 🥹

-> yukitsunoda0511 oh ok that's good.. please don't worry me like this again

-> yourinstagram yessir i'm sorry 😞🫡

pierregasly not the two of you worrying yuki.. it's on sight 🔫

-> yourinstagram i'm not scared of a hon hon hon baguette frenchie

-> landonorris yeah what she said go water your baguettes or sumn pierre

-> pierregasly i take pride in being a french man you guys are just haters 😒

-> yourinstagram that we are 🫶

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⛳ 𖦹 ˚. ᵎᵎ golf date ! ⭑

instagram 🎥

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussell63 and 20,349,444 others

yourinstagram once a third wheel, always a third wheel. i need someone to look at me the way carlos looks at my boyfriend 😞

ps the staff handed me that merc golf ball since they're sponsoring this golf course @/mclaren i promise i'm still loyal to you guys

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landonorris i already look at you the way carlos looks at me 😞

landonorris baby i love you but was it really necessary to post that picture in the sixth slide 🥲

-> yourinstagram yes it was !! it's like a preview of spiderlando

-> landonorris you and your love for spider-man.. should we dress up as peter and gwen/mj the next halloween ?

-> yourinstagram OH MY GOD I THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER ASK !! a thousand times yes 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri the replies under lando's comment got me thinking y'all were getting married 🧍

-> yourinstagram i mean that'd be my reaction if he proposed to me anyways

-> landonorris marriage proposal coming up in a few years 😁

carlossainz55 i need someone to look at me the way i look at lando 😭

alex_albon what is he doing in that sixth slide...

-> landonorris that's how pro golfers play, you rookie

mercedesamgf1 you got great choice in golf courses and golf balls, y/n 🤭

mclaren please take y/n to a mclaren sponsored golf course next time @/landonorris ☺️

-> landonorris you got it boss

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 🧸 𖦹 ˚. ᵎᵎ babysitting date ! ⭑

instagram 🎥

liked by landonorris, savnorris, maxverstappen1 and 18,839,222 others

yourinstagram babysitting my nephew and little mila with uncle la-la ! feat baby lan (even after all these years, nothing's changed 🥹)

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yourinstagram baby fever went off the charts today

-> danielricciardo when are you and lando going to have a baby 😁

-> landonorris we can make one now if you want, y/n 😏

-> yourinstagram LANDO !! 😭😭 but yeah i can't wait to get married and have children soon...

-> landonorris you'd be the bestest mum 🫶

-> danielricciardo can i be the cool uncle

-> yourinstagram ofc danny no one's as cool as you !!

-> danielricciardo great 😁😁

landonorris i'm the best babysitter in the world

landonorris where did you find that baby picture of me

-> yourinstagram your mum sent it to me 🥹 you were so cute back then

-> landonorris am i not cute now

-> yourinstagram no 🤍

-> landonorris i hate u

-> yourinstagram love u too xx

savnorris thanks for babysitting mila today ! she loves you both so much ! 🫶 (auntie y/n a little bit more 🤭)

-> yourinstagram aww, no need savvy !! i had so much fun babysitting mila she's the cutest :( please call me the next time you need a babysitter i genuinely love spending time with her <3

-> yourinstagram also in your face @/landonorris mila loves me more than u 😝

-> landonorris ... mila how could you betray your uncle la-la 🤭😞

alexandrasaintmleux the matching shoes ☹️❤️

yoursister life savers !! thanks for babysitting kai on such a short notice, sis & lando ! 🤍

-> landonorris anytime (soon to be) sister in law 🫡

oscarpiastri can lily and i babysit them with you guys the next time

-> yourinstagram ofc pastry <3

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 🛏️ 𖦹 ˚. ᵎᵎ nap date ! ⭑

instagram 🎥

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 21,929,345 others

yourinstagram and it's all too much for little lando norris.

view all 3,222,127 comments

landonorris my girlfriend's hotter than all of you

-> yourinstagram my boyfriend's hotter than all of you

landonorris why do you have so many pictures of me sleeping..

-> yourinstagram because you're always falling asleep everywhere

-> landonorris fair point

landonorris come back to bed i wanna cuddle you

-> yourinstagram coming !! 🏃‍♀️

carlossainz55 😴❤️

charles_leclerc silly lando 😆

alex_albon is he really sleeping on the floor 😭

danielricciardo wake up babe new lando sleeping content just dropped

maxfewtrell god he's such a simp for you

oscarpiastri saving these for future purposes (blackmail)

-> landonorris wtf man

mclaren our favourite papaya couple 🧡

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© LILIRARI, 2023 ★

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 8 - "Give me that, before anything happens."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"Don't touch that." Constantine said without even looking up from the book he was reading through for research. Phantom had joined the Justice League dark only recently and was still in that sort of mentor - glorified babysitting - state. It was just his luck that he lost in the stick draw and had now to 'mentor' the who-knows-how-old-he-truly-is Ghost King.

He should have stuck this job to Zatanna. The 'kid' was curious as a cat and apparently wanted to touch every good damn artifact in the House of Mysteries that Constantine had ever gotten his hands on.

"Don't touch that either." The Brite muttered without looking up, he was so close in figuring out the actual meaning of the curse placed on a good damn church bell that causes everyone who hears it to fall asleep at midnight sharp and wake up at 8 AM later like nothing happened. Behind his back Phantom stuck his tongue out at the man before reaching out to poke the artifact that caught his eye anyway. However the House of Mysteries had other ideas as it reconstructed itself at the right moment and put the artifact further away from Phantom.

The Ghost King pouted, crossing his arms and floated over to where Constantine was pouring over a curse seal. Phantom hummed as he looked over the Brites shoulder grinning. "Oh I didn't know you could use ghost speech for curses!"

"Say what now mate?!" John's head snapped to the side to stare at Phantom who was now floating over his shoulder. "It's in ghost speech? What even is that?"

The Ghost King had the nerve to give him an unimpressed stare that really made the Brite need a smoke, but he had given Zatanna his good damn word not to smoke around the 'kid', so that was a no.

"Ghost speech. The language of the Infinite Realms also known as the Ghost Zone, After Life, Hell, Home of the Damned, and so on and so on." Constantines eye twitched as the Ghost boy shrugged. He let out a suffering sigh and pushed his copie of the curse seal over to Phantom.

"What does it say?" The other blinked for a moment before turning his eyes to the photo. A scratching static white noise filled the Brite's ears and he yelped in pain, covering his ears. The noise instantly stopped and Contantine glared at the Ghost King who sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I will say it again in English."

Constantine only grumbled something inaudible before motioning for the other to continue.

"You idiots don't sleep enough. Go and get at least eight hours of sleep. If you don't sleep by midnight I will be the one to make you sleep."

"The hell?"

"That's what's written there."

"Don't tell me we have another good damn Sandman problem on our hands." John gripped with one hand at his hair, he really hoped that wasn't it because dear good he did not want to get Batman or one of the other Not Dark heros involved.

"Nah, he goes by Nocturne, he never liked that name some philosophers came up with. But this does go against the agreement I had with him."

Was this how Batman felt when his Robins went against his orders? Or how the mentors of the Yonge Justice feel when the teens sass back? Because Constantine was sticking this ancient kid of a Ghost King onto Zatanna the next change he got.

"You know how to lift that curse then?" Instead of going further into a rabbit hole, Constantine decided it was easier to just find out if the Ghost King can lift a good damn curse he had been working on solving for days now instead of finding out who the hell Nocturne was now.

"Of course I know." Phantom answered easily, floating on his back around the room like he was going with the flow of water. Glowing green eyes going along the shelves where various books and artifacts were thrown on, in no particular order.

"Great. Let's go and fix this then." The man muttered, getting up from his chair and grabbing his coat. "I need a bottle of whiskey after this and a good damn smoke…"

Phantom just followed behind the man ready for his second official job with the Justice League Dark. He grinned happily of finally getting some outside action only to come to a sudden halt as the Brite man whirled around glaring at the Ghost King only inches from his the other.

"Phantom?"

"Yes?" The 'kid' answered nervously.

"Give me that, before anything happens. How often did I tell you NOT to touch anything of the artifacts? Do you even know what that thing does!"

Reluctantly like a reprimanded child the Ghost King handed over a golden plate with a glowing green crystal embedded into it, Constantine remembered it being the leftover part of a demon they had banished. The man narrowed his eyes. "The other one too."

"Fine…" Phantom handed over a crystal zepter, John had picked up from an ancient tomb. "Didn't think you noticed me picking them up, since you didn't say anything before I even touched them."

"Mate, you are forgetting who currently owns this house."

[greatooglymooglyyy]

Anniversary Blues (Matt Sturniolo)

contains: angst, verbal arguing, slight gaslighting, making up, fluff, 900+ words

I kiss my teeth and glare at the back of my boyfriend’s head, wondering how childish it would be if I smacked his ass as hard as I could with my pillow. If he notices my sour mood, he’s doing a great job at ignoring it, instead sitting at the end of his bed watching some Netflix show. He honestly looks really cute when he’s into a new show like this, and any other day, I wouldn’t mind the lack of attention. But any other day wouldn’t be our anniversary.

Yep, that's right. A whole trip around the sun worth of love and affection poured into this man and he can’t even seem to remember the date.

I reach for my phone and check the time. Half past 8. I sigh and try to push down my disappointment as I realize that there is no surprise coming and he really just forgot.

I roll out of his bed and start gathering my belongings to make my way home. Might as well sulk in my own bed.

“Tempur-Pedic bed having motherfucker.” I mutter under my breath as I slip my shoes on. Matt finally seems to register that he does somehow have a girlfriend, turning to me and knitting his brows together in confusion.

“You’re not staying the night?” He asks, pausing the show and standing up. He catches the look in my eye before I can try to push it away. “What’s wrong?”

"Nothing."

"Okay..." He says reaching to unpause his show again which causes me to snap.

“I can’t believe you actually forgot our first anniversary, Matt. I spent the whole day thinking there’s no way he’s this clueless, but nope! You definitely are. Look at you, setting the standard for idiots everywhere.” I rant, grabbing my purse and watching his face fall. I start for his door, but he catches me by the waist and pulls me into his arms.

“Woah. Woah. Okay. Fuck. My bad. It completely slipped my mind. I didn’t even forget the day, babe. I just didn’t even know what day it was. How do I fix it?” He says, trying his best to placate me.

I sigh and pull away, still annoyed, and force a smile. “It’s cool, Matt. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? It’s just one day.” He says, the slight hint of irritation in his tone now. I raise my eyebrow at him. “That’s how you wanna play this, Matthew?”

“I’m just saying, if I buy you flowers and take you out tomorrow, what’s the difference? It's one meaningless day." He says flopping back onto his bed and rolling his eyes.

I pause for a second, gauging to see if he really believes that. At the nonchalant look on his face, my eyes narrow to slits, genuinely pissed off now.

“Damn, you really are just a boy.” I say before I spin around and storm out of his house.

**********

When Matt’s name pops up for the 15th time on my carplay, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and lean my head back against the seat. I’m sitting in a parking lot eating the ice cream I got from Dairy Queen, thinking about how fucked up my boyfriend has me.

It wasn’t even about the gifts or even really about the day; the lack of effort and care is really just so crazy to me.

I sigh and decide that maybe it’s not worth the fight. Tomorrow, I'll let it go. But today, I'll hate him a little. As I look in the rearview mirror, preparing to back out, something blue in the backseat catches my eye. I turn and reach for what I can now make out, hidden under a t-shirt—a very pretty Tiffany box. It’s the ring I showed Matt on TikTok over ten months ago. My heart starts to hammer as I read the little note he’s engraved.

When you know, you know. -M

My eyes start to water a bit as I back out and head back to Matt’s house. When I get there, he swings the door open before I can knock. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for forgetting. I’m sorry for being that fucking stupid. I know the day’s important to you and you are so important to me. Our relationship is everything to me. It freaks me out how much I care. But I do care.” He says in a rush, barely even taking a breath.

“It’s okay, Matt. I get that you have a different love language. I just don’t like that you made me feel stupid for even being upset.”

“I know. I know. I just panicked and went full-asshole. I’m sorry.” He says, pulling me into the house and wrapping his arms around me. I bury my head in his chest for a second and then pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

“This is your one fuckup card; you better add my birthday and every single one of our anniversaries to your phone calendar.”

“There are more?" He whispers, in abject horror. I laugh and shove his chest playfully.

“By the way, I found the ring you hid in my car.” I say before I hold my hand up like a bride to show him. He smiles wide and laces his fingers with mine, kissing my hand.

“Finally, it only took you nine months.”

“You bought it that soon after we started dating?” I ask, shock evident in my voice.

“Didn’t you read the engraving?” He asks, still grinning, before he tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me in for a kiss that makes my knees go weak.

[norrisleclercf1]

Could you do one where Elijah gets food poisoning or something during a race weekend and tries to push through anyway and they comfort him

Everyone gets Sick

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader x Charles Leclerc

Elijah is 18, Cecile is 14. Elijah is in his first season in F2

A/N: Also felt like making this only Lando and Elijah. Just a little insight into their relationship, also I can’t find a face claim I like for Elijah, so if anyone has recommendations for blonde male face claims that’ll help a lot .

"You good kid?" Elijah groans, raising his head slightly from between his legs. "Yeah, I'm good." Elijah looks up at his engineer. "You sure?" He questions, Elijah was pale. Not the pale where it's normal but the kind that he looked ready to pass out.

"Yes, just...ugh." Elijah feels that burn and muscles clamping all over his body as he swallows, trying hard not to vomit. "Elijah, listen if you can't race no one is going to fault you." His engineer Paul whispers. "No, I have to race." Gasping, as he sucks in the humid air of Monza.

"Damn kid." Paul curses, walking off as the boy tries hard to control his stomach. "You look like shit." Glaring at his younger sister she smiles handing him a water bottle.

"Where's Dad?" Elijah whispers, just craving him. "Media Duties. Want me to get him?" He shakes his head no, at 18 Elijah wasn't sure what he really wanted. "You're sick." "Thank you captian obvious." Elijah growls, his stomach curling this time he's not able to stop it.

Moving quick, he grabs the small bucket and coughs loudly as his sister cringes patting his back. "So gross." Cecile groans trying hard to not turn around. Spitting, Elijah grabs his bottle and takes a sip swirling it around before spitting.

"Don't," Elijah gasps pushing his blonde hair back, "Tell anyone." "That's stupid, you're sick. I'm telling." Standing she goes to get either her dads of Mama, but when a large hand slaps down on her arm she stops. "Please, don't. I need these points Cece. I'm so close." She groans, rolling her head as she tries to do the right thing.

"Eli, you could crash! What would you do if you need to vomit? You can't. I'm getting Dad." Elijah groans, hand slipping as Cece takes off.

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

"I couldn't be prouder of my son. His first season in F2 and he's second in the title fight is a wonderful thing, I wish," "Dad! Dad! Daddy!" Lando stops talking, whipping around to see Cecile pushing through the media. "Excuse me." Lando rushes off, meeting her halfway.

"Baby? What's wrong?" Lando worries, looking over his daughter as she gasps for air. "It's," She takes another deep breath, "Woah, that was a run. I didn't know it would be that far," She rambles Lando confused. "Cecile, what's wrong?" He's trying to stay calm, but it's not easy when your 14-year-old daughter comes screaming.

"Oh, it's Eli. He's," Lando doesn't wait as he bolts off heading towards Elijah's garage. "Oh god, more running." Cecile whines running after her Dad.

"Elijah? Elijah? Ducky!" "I'm here Dad." He groans, Lando skidding to a stop as he kneels down before his son. "And don't call me Ducky." He gasps as he turns, throwing up. Lando cringes still hating anything to do with throwing up. But this is his son and he's sick. His childish aversion would have to be put to rest.

"Oh, Ducky." Lando whispers grabbing a cold water and pouring it over a towel before wringing it out, laying it on his neck. "I hate this." Elijah gasps, tears slipping down. "It's food poisoning. We told you not to eat that burger. You said it tasted weird, should've stopped." Lando scolds, but it holds no heat sitting next to his son.

"Dad?" "Yeah Ducky?" Elijah scoots closer, placing his head on Lando's shoulder. "I don't think I can race. I'm sorry." His throat grows tights, except this time it due to the tears. "Why are you sorry? You can't help it." Lando laughs, pulling Elijah in, resting his chin on top of his son's head.

"You're always so proud of me. Pa and you always raced even when you're sick. I should be able to do that too, but I can't." He whispers. Lando sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around his little boy. "Everyone gets sick, Elijah. I rather you not race then race and get in a crash. I'm proud of you no matter what, you're my little Ducky." Lando kisses Elijah's forehead, Elijah closing his eyes as he leans more into Lando.

Even though he's grown, it's moments like these that Lando craves for them to be younger, smaller. They always wanted him when they were sick, but to know that his little boy who's a man now still wanted him, healed a small crack in his heart.

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

taglist: @andydrysdalerogers @kellzsthings @christianpulisic10

@tagteamedbitch @changetyre @minamisulemisa @dancingrox

@idontknowwhyimherelov @ariyancoffe @abcheksl @utdmount

@mysticstudentbagelhairdo @talishein @champomiel @champagnesprays @anya7802 @sebbybucky12

@reality-is-a-con @hollie911 @flowerhowellsworld @myheartgoesvroom

@nora-moon @nowimyurdaisy @linejoergensen92-blog @xeliaaa @mcmuppet @ryiamarie

[peeweekey]

Sebastian likes frogs. Emphasis on the word likes.

He appreciates them, they do good for the environment. They eat up all the nasty flies that buzz around the mountain lake, too. He doesn’t have to worry about mosquitos snaking on his blood while he smokes. It’s just a plus that he finds them cool and interesting.

Which most people find weird. Sebastian thinks it’s weird that they find it weird. Frogs aren’t going out of their way to bother people.

Yes, he likes them. They’re his favorite animal, certainly.

But favorite is not enough for him to want to smooch a frog.

“Sam, I’m not gonna fucking kiss a frog.”

“C’mon! It’ll be like the movie!” Sam teases, insistently shoving Sebastian to the frog innocently sitting on a park bench. “Who knows, maybe it’ll be your very own froggy princess—”

“Didn’t the girl turn into a frog when she kissed it,” he shoots back, elbowing Sam backwards in the gut. The blond lets out an overdramatic hiss of pain, bent over and clutching his stomach. “Abby, back me up here.”

“I never watched that stuff,” Abigail shrugs, watching with amusement. She makes no move to help at all, comfortably resting against the wide wooden posts of a fence. “Watched a lotta cartoons though. Phineas and Ferb is my jam.”

“Not about the movie,” Sebastian grits exasperatedly. His brows knitting together in frustration “The frog.”

“Mhm, go on,” a cheshire-like grin on her face. “Kiss it, Seb. A big smooch right on its slimy mouth.”

Sam eggs him on, the pain of being elbowed magically disappearing. “Do it! Do it!”

Sebastian presses his lips tightly together. There’s no use resisting once Abby and Sam band together. They’re a force to be reckoned with like this—demanding and overbearing. Sebastian exasperatedly wipes a hand over his face, shooting the poor frog a sorry look.

Sam pushes him one more time, he gives him a stony glare in return. “Fuck—alright! Stop being so damn loud, you’ll scare it away.”

The frog in question croaks slightly, like it senses the trio talking about it. He gives it a wary glance.

As he slowly approaches, Sebastian can hear Abby and Sam’s satisfied sniggering behind him. They roped him into doing another stupidly outrageous thing for the umpteenth time.

He sighs, he really needs better friends.

Mustering up all his courage, he bends down, almost eye level with the frog, resting a hand on the wooden grain bench on where it’s perched upon.

He screws his eyes shut and goes for it.

Sebastian’s lips connect with the frog’s slimy, almost rough skin. So fast and featherlight that it can barely be considered a kiss. Cold against his lips. He pulls back immediately after, wiping any residue off his lips with the back of his hand.

The frog jumps, croaking with,what he assumes is, alarm.

“See?” Abby laughs, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. “No princess in sight. You didn’t turn into a frog either!”

“Man,” Sam snickers, patting him roughly on the back. Sebastian groans with every smack. “It would’ve been cool though, if you turned into a frog. We’d have a frog drummer in our band!”

Sebastian shoves his unruly friends off. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s get going. The frog is probably traumatized.”

“You can check that off your bucket list,” Abby teases, a smirk playing on her lips. “Kiss a frog before I die. We’ll tell the story for generations.”

Sam howls with laughter, Sebastian feels absolutely mortified.

Before the trio could make any move out of the park, a cloud of green smoke curtains the frog, so thick and so unusual. Sebastian unconsciously backs away from it.

“What—woah,” Sam says, more mezmerised than shocked at the green smoke pouring out of the frog Sebastian kissed. “What is that?”

“The fuck if we know, Sam!”

“Boys, boys, shut the fuck up. Look.”

Abigail points at the fog. It grows and grows, stopping and dissipating once the whole bench is covered with the green mist.

The frog is gone—disappeared into thin air. Instead, a not-so-frog shaped person sits. You blink up at Sebastian slowly.

Woah, woah.

He feels his heart accelerating—for all the wrong reasons. An unusual thumping sound that vibrates all throughout his body—his fingertips, his stomach, his toes. Where there should be fear and panic and definitely fear, Sebastian feels exhilaration.

You’re pretty.

It’s also pretty horrifying for him to think—and feel.

You blink slowly—a frog-like trait that cement his suspicions. You’re staring up at him as he stares back down at you, curious meets bewildered. “…”

His eyes are wide, scanning each and every part of your now not frog-like features. Sebastian feels cold sweat dripping down his forehead—a stark temperature difference to the heat in his cheeks. “Oh—oh shit.”

“Uhm… ribbit?”

-

Another thing he blames on Sam and Abby—his horrifying attraction you; the person, not the frog.

He checks that off his metaphorical bucket list, too.

[imnameimswrld]

ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁰ ׄ ⑅ PG10 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ the alpine driver gets spotted where he is most certainly unexpected, and all that follows sends the media into overdrive.

— PAIRING ੭ pierre gasly x popstar!reader.

— FILE ੭ social media au.

— WARNINGS ੭ none.

— FACE CLAIM ੭ lisa ❪ blackpink ❫.

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

replies:

user1 I SAW HIM TOO !! I highkey thought I was seeing things for a sec 😭😭

user2 so THE pierre gasly is a (fandomname) ??

user3 dude, he had the lightstick, t-shirt, bracelets, EVERTHING

user2 OH MY- 😭😭😭

ㅤ˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚ ynusername

liked by pierregasly, user, and 8 232 999 others

ynusername merci my paris (fandomname) 🤍 ! tu étais tellement exceptionnel ce soir, et j'ai adoré chaque seconde de jouer pour toi ! je vous aime tous tellement, merci paris 🇫🇷.

(see translation here: you were are so exceptional tonight, and i loved every second of performing for you ! i love you are all so much, thank you paris 🇫🇷🫂)

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user1 mother slayed as always.

pierregasly vous êtes tellement incroyable.

user2 pierre gasly called yn incredible, no one move.

user3 UHM !?!

user4 props to u sir for knowing the words to ALL of yn's songs 😭😭🤚

pierregasly why thank you, I take pride in being a (fandomname).

ㅤ˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚ pierregasly

liked by estebanocon, ynusername, and 789 445 others

pierregasly taste that pink venom, p3 baby !! merci paris 💗

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user1 ayy- wait a minute... THE PINK VENOM LYRICS !?!?!

user2 OKAY SLAY 😭

ynusername 💗

user3 is this a soft launch ? it's gotta be a soft launch...

user4 so it was never a fever dream ? 😦

alpinef1team

liked by ynusername, pierregasly, and 1 223 979 others

alpinef1team a true delight to have @ynusername in our paddock today ! 💗

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pierregasly a true delight indeed 😊

estebanocon I have so much to say...

pierregasly u swore an oath, so stfu est.

estebanocon ohhhh, the things my eyes have seen...

pierregasly ocon, istg-

alpinef1team BOYS.

ynusername alpine, you're the best, tysm for having me ! 🫂💗

user1 JUST SPIT IT OUT ALREADY

user2 alpine, esteban, what do u know 🔪

user3 blonde yn AND in the alpine paddocks ??? I am a spoiled girl today people.

ㅤ˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚ ynusername

liked by lilymhe, pierregasly, and 9 333 401 others

ynusername PINKCHELLA BABY !!! headlining coachella was an absolute dream come true, and I could never have done it with my (fandomname)... I am eternally greatful for you all, thank you for spending two weeks with me - yn x 🤍💗

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user1 so proud of you yn !! 💗

lilymhe GIRL U ATE OMFG MARRY ME

alexalbon oh. okay then.

pierregasly totally understandable lils, okay, but back off.

landonorris same goes to you gasly, I didn't see u swatting the air with ur lighstick – I am the superior (fandomname)

pierregasly that was you ??? crap, I thought it was some random kid that snuck in

landonorris you motherfucker.

ynusername you are all so amusing... pls, do go on.

user2 WHAT is going on in this comment section ?!?! 😭😭😭

user3 so now lando wants yn too ??

pierregasly no no, he's just being an annoying little prick

landonorris keep talking, and wait till you taste that papaya venom this weekend.

pierregasly dear god, just shut up pls.

user3 SOS. HELP. PLS. 😭

pierregasly proud of you yn 💗

ㅤ❤ by user

replies:

user1 DAMN...bro is down bad

user2 pierre gasly is a SIMP.

ㅤ⤿ OconEsteban a fact.

ㅤ⤿yukitsunoda07 and a very, very true one at that.

ㅤ⤿ PierreGASLY yuks, you're supposed to be on my side.

user3 ...aight, bet.

ㅤ⤿ PierreGASLY oh, you godsend.

ㅤ˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚ ynusername

liked by alpinef1team, pierregasly, and 9 334 003 others

ynusername part-time musician, full-time bf photographer 📸😍

View all comments

user1 FUCKING FINALY OML

user2 parents.

pierregasly don't forget, you're my lucky charm too, amour

ynusername how could I forget with you always reminding me hon ? 🙃

landonorris you two make me sick.

ynusername because we're so cute ?

landonorris ...maybe 😒

alpinef1team thx for making our boy look good yn !

pierregasly uh, ouch ?

ynusername shut up, you're pretty and u know it.

pierregasly duh, only a pretty boy like me, can serve a pretty girl like you

ynusername damn right 😙

user3 I am already living for this relationship.

ㅤ˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚ pierregasly

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and 2 378 300 others

pierregasly just because mon amour is just so perfect.

View all comments

user1 down bad I tell you.

pierregasly who isn't tho ?

user1 TOO TRUE PIERRE

ynusername put your phone down and come kiss me. now.

pierregasly yes ma'am 🏃🏃🏃

landonorris GET A ROOOOOMMMM

estebanocon no, srsly, what lando said. my EYES.

user2 the mental image of pierre and yn locking lips and este is just side-eyeing them from a distance way is making me cackle rn

————————————————————————

END

a/n: happy new year loves, and I hope u all had a wonderful xmas to those who celebrate ♡.

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie. (Part II)

Part I

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

Two weeks after Dean became a father, it's time to jump back on the hunting horse. But he's hesitant.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

“Bonnie?” 

You shot Dean a look across the kitchen. He was cooking eggs on the stove while you were nursing. Castiel was the only other member of the bunker awake at six a.m. and, fortunately, occupied the library. It wasn’t that you cared about the other men seeing you breastfeeding, it was how they reacted to it. Both became very awkward and outwardly attempted to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“You can’t accept Winnie, but you pick Bonnie?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“I was just thinking if we had a boy we could call him Clyde. We’d have our own little gang.” 

“Firstly, I’m not doing this again. And secondly, Bonnie and Clyde were felons.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not doing this again?’ Don’t most women go crazy for more kids? They smell the baby's head and some hoo-doo helps them forget about the pain and bodily fluids.” 

“Yeah, well. You try being in labour for damn near forty eight hours and shitting yourself in a room full of people. Including the man you love. Then come back and tell me you’ve forgotten about it and wanna do it all over again.” 

“Point taken.” Dean laughed, plating up eggs and bacon for them both, “And you didn’t shit yourself by the way.”

“I didn’t?”

“I think I’d remember.”

You smiled at the plate of food and carefully lifted the baby from your breast. She’d long since stopped feeding and was instead squirming, ready to be winded. 

“I can take it from here.” Dean reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms. He held her upright against his chest and began rubbing circles into her small back, “There we go kiddo. Get it up.” 

“Be careful.” You warned. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” Dean gestured to the polka-dot muslin cloth on his shoulder. 

You watched as he gently walked your daughter around the kitchen, her little body squirming while he cooed into her ear. She made several little squeaking noises, threatening to cry, only to be brought back to earth by her father’s tender voice. 

“Come on now, no tears. I’ve got you.” 

Your eyes locked with Dean’s for a moment, both reflecting a soft smile. He was proving to be an excellent father, not that you’d doubted him for a second. But Sam had. He’d been very vocal about Dean knowing nothing about babies and how, despite the fact that he was happy for you both, he thought this whole ‘raising a family thing’ was a bad idea.

“You guys are great together! But I don’t think this is the right environment for a kid.”  Or something along the same bullshit. 

Dean had been adamant about her though. He damn near refused to speak to Sam until he stopped with his questions and logical answers. Sure you both had been sceptical about bringing a child into this life, but neither of you had actively prevented it. If it happened, it happened. 

Speaking of the devil. Sam groaned and stretched his arms above his head, stumbling into the kitchen. He dug the palm of his hands into his eyes, drawing them down his face afterwards. 

“Morning. Coffee’s in the pot.” Dean said, his voice shifting from Dad to brother by just an octave. 

Sam poured himself a hefty mug before offering more to the kitchen. You declined but insisted that he fill up Deans. 

“He’ll need the caffeine for your hunt.” 

“Oh so you’re back on the job then?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising. 

Dean’s brow furrowed as he shifted the little one on his chest. He searched her face, the cogs visibly turning in his head. 

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

“What? I thought you’d be happy to get back on the horse.” You’d assumed that after being out of work for almost two weeks that Dean would be craving a hunt, but his face said otherwise. 

“Yeah. I mean I am. But she - “ 

“She’ll be right here when you get back.” You interrupted, “It’s a simple in and out job. Right Sam?” 

“Sure. Run of the mill ghost in the attic for some old friend’s of Bobby’s.” Sam took a lengthy sip of his coffee, “And it pays too.” 

“See? And we could use the cash for Winnie.” 

Sam scoffed, barely holding onto the coffee in his mouth. He looked between you both and then to his niece. 

“Winnie?”

“Short for Winchester but not her name. Just a placeholder until we find the perfect one.” You inform, “But what’s so wrong with Winnie anyway? It’s a perfectly acceptable name.” 

“Nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just not what I pictured you both to come up with.” 

“Fortunately it’s not.” Dean added, shifting the baby from one arm to the other as she reached up with her little hands, “As for the hunt, I’m not sure.”

He offered a finger for her hand to close around, eyes never leaving her. the features on his face softened, lips almost pulling downwards into a frown. 

You exchanged a knowing look with Sam. 

“If this is about Win- her- you don’t need to worry. I can cope fine on my own for one night.” You offered

“Yeah but what if it isn’t just one evening?” Dean answered, his voice doing nothing to disguise the concern he was feeling. 

“It’s only a few towns over. We’ll be home by four am - ” 

“But what if something goes wrong? Huh? Then what? I’ve left my wife without a husband, my little girl without a father. And -” 

You jumped to your feet at the distress in his voice and rushed to loop an arm around his middle.  

“Don’t say that. It’s a run of the mill job, something you guys have done one thousand times over. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen other than a few bruises.” You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes coming to settle on the little lady in his arms, “I can deal with those. And she’ll not know any different.” 

With a deep sigh, Dean kissed you gently on the head. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection, especially in front of his brother, but you hadn’t the heart to react. You knew he was feeling vulnerable, that much was clear in his reaction, and to draw attention to it would only make things worse. Instead you settled against him and allowed his warmth and the soothing sounds of your baby to still your own anxiety. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that some part of you was fearful of your husband walking out of the bunker and never coming home. Hunting was a dire job, one which had claimed the life of many of your comrades. Dean may be an experienced hunter, renowned in his own right, but he certainly wasn’t immune to unfortunate outcomes. That much had been proven time and time again. 

Lost in thought, the only sounds in the kitchen were the gentle fussing of your daughter and the whirring of the circulation fans. 

Finally Castiel broke the silence with his sudden entrance. He appeared in a flurry of feathers, one coming to land on the table top by your abandoned coffee cup. 

“We have doors, Cas. Use ‘em.” Dean warned, pulling your daughter closer to his chest as she began to fuss. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s a force of habit.” Castiel answered, taking a seat next to Sam, “I startled her.” 

“You think?!” 

You moved to take the baby from Dean but he shook his head, whispering a small ‘I got this’ back to you as he started to rock her from side to side. But it was no good, her cries grew louder and more furious. You began to wonder how those big sounds could even come from such a small creature. 

Before you could offer your help again Castiel brushed past you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” He said, coming to stand in front of Dean “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Here” to your surprise, Dean held your daughter out towards the angel, “You can settle her down while I grab her diaper bag.” 

You lean in and quickly sniff.  

“I don’t think she needs changed, D.”

“Well I don’t know what else to do. She -” 

Castiel reached forward and lifted the infant from Dean. He brought her to settle in the crook of his arm, offering up his fingers for her to grab at. Gradually she began to quiet, her hands reaching up for Castiel’s and her eyes wide, staring into his face. 

You and Dean watched on in outward confusion. Castiel, to your knowledge, had never handled a baby before. At least not in recent years. 

“How did you do that?” Dean asked almost aggressively, “She was cryin’ up a storm seconds ago and you just took her and nothing.”

“Did you use your grace?” Sam suggested. 

“She’s much too small to handle my grace in any capacity. It would kill her.” 

You considered jumping in and taking her from Castiel but stopped yourself. She was settled and happily holding onto the angel's fingers. No sense in ruining it. Beside you Dean was tense, clearly struggling with something along the same lines. His face was etched in hard lines and you could see his brows furrowing. 

Gently you looped your arm through his and guided him to his long forgotten coffee cup. He moved but his eyes never left you daughter in the angel’s arms. 

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “About this hunt.” 

“What about it?” Dean glared at him over the rim of his cup. 

“Are you in or -” 

“He’s in.” You answer before the question could even be finished. 

“Wha - I -” 

“Oh come on. You got this. I can handle her and Cas will be here if I need any help. Right Cas?” The angel gave something akin to a positive response, “You have to get back out there at some point.”

Dean’s gaze flickered from Sam to you, finally coming to land on Castiel. He watched the angel gently swaying the little girl in his arms and the lines on his face began to soften. 

“Hmmm. You’re sure about this?” He asked. 

“Positive.” 

“If there’s any trouble, anything at all, you call me.” 

“Sure.” You smiled, “But I doubt Winnie will be as much of an issue as your malevolent spirit.” 

Dean chuckled, accompanied by Sam. 

“God, we’re really going to have to talk about her name when I get back.” 

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: You Make Loving Fun*

————————————————————————-

summary: you and joe are taking your first weekend trip away after having your twin boys. you two take the private jet and alone time to your advantage.

warnings: smut

pairing: joe burrow x reader

imagine universe: into the mystic

————————————————————————-

(y/n’s pov)

October 15th, 2023

“oh my god, i’m so fucking excited!!” - you grinned

joe’s big hand on my lower back was leading me towards the steps to the private jet he had rented for this special occasion.

i turned to face joe, wanting to see his reaction to the jet but he was too busy slipping money to the guy that had loaded our bags into the plane.

after joe thanked him one last time, his blue eyes locked with my eyes and a large smile spread on his lips.

“you like it?” - joe smiled

“it’s so damn cool! that things awfully big for just me and you, was there no smaller options?” - you

“there were, but i kinda just wanted to impress you.” - joe

“joseph. we’ve been together too long for you to think you have to impress me.” - you

“i don’t think i have to, i wanted to. now let’s get inside, there’s something i wanna show you.” - joe

joe moved in front of me and took my hand, practically yanking me up the stairs since his long legs allowed him to take them two at a time.

“joe! slow down! i don’t have long ass legs like you.” - you

“oh shit sorry, baby. i got excited.” - joe

i had to giggle at that, his childlike wonder always coming off so adorable.

when joe and i stepped through the plane door hand in hand, the flight attendant was there pouring red wine into two glasses.

the plane was actually more roomy than expected, there were a couple different places to sit but joe opted for the two chairs that faced each other with a small table between them.

“mr. and mrs. burrow, welcome aboard! it’s lovely to have you! can i interest you in some of our red wine?” - flight attendant

“that’d be great, thank you.” - joe

she placed the glasses in front of us, making sure not to spill anything.

“10 minutes after we take off i’ll be back to take your dinner order. also, after we take off feel free to roam around. there’s the bedroom in the back that you guys can take a nap in, or just sprawl out to get comfortable.” - flight attendant

joe and i thanked her before she retreated to the cabin.

“there’s a bed on this thing?” - you

“yup. that’s what i wanted to show you.” - joe winked

“you trynna get me going, burrow?” - you

“i’d never, burrow.” - joe

even after being married for over a year, hearing joe call me by his- our last name never failed to make me blush.

joe referring to me as his wife or calling himself my husband would never ever get old.

“seriously though, this is gonna be a long ass flight even on the jet. i’m prob gonna knock out at some point.” - joe

“sounds fine with me, we can head back there after dinner and cuddle.” - you

joe nodded with a smile on his face. he was so happy when i finally agreed to go on the trip. since the twins had been born joe and i have had 0 alone time together, so he really wanted to have a getaway just the two of us. it came as a surprise to you since joe was no doubt a homebody that hated leaving the house.

i took a long look at joe while he was busy looking out the window, the stubble he’d recently grown out giving him a sexy af dad look that made me want to pounce on him.

joe and i still haven’t had sex since i gave birth to the twins 3 months ago, but i was growing super impatient. this is the most built joe’s physique has ever been and he drove me literally insane.

“god, you’re such a dilf.” - you

“excuse me?” - joe’s stare left the window and found you while he chuckled

“you’re a straight up dilf.” - you

when joe stayed staring at me like i was a crazy person, i started to explain what the acronym stood for.

“joseph, it means dad i’d like to fu-” - you

“i know what it means!” - joe cut you off

“then why’d you say excuse me?” - you

“you said it out of nowhere, you caught me off guard!” - joe

joe and i laughed for a few moments before we were interrupted by the flight attendant walking over to take our order.

our time waiting for our food was spent by talking about what we wanted to do on the trip, what we were looking forward to seeing the most, and honestly how much we missed the twins.

not even 15 minutes had passed and our food was being brought out to us. joe opted for soup while i got the salad.

there was a comfortable silence that fell over us due to the fact we were eating, but joe broke it.

“that dressing looks weird as hell.” - joe

“it’s good. wanna try?” - you

“eh, sure i guess.” - joe

i user my fork to make sure to get one of every piece of the salad in one bite, along with the dressing. when i handed the fork over to joe, some of the dressing dropped into his finger and his face showed a look of disgust.

at first i was just gonna let him cringe till he wiped it off on his napkin, but this seemed to be a perfect opportunity to tease him.

i leaned across the table and grabbed his hand. he was confused at first but when i sucked his finger into my mouth and licked the dressing off, his mouth hung open.

pulling off his finger with an audible pop sound, when my eyes met his i recognized those wide pupils that only seemed to darken his baby blues with pure lust.

“fuck.” - joe mumbled

“taste the dressing, baby.” - you

a smirk formed on joe’s face, a telltale sign he has just come up with an idea.

“here.” - joe handed you the fork

“c’mon! you gotta try it!” - you

“i’m going too, just eat it first.” - joe gestures towards the spoon in your hand

i put it to my lips, chewed, and swallowed all while still being confused to what joe was up to.

opening my mouth to ask joe what he was up to, he leaned across the table and captured my mouth with his. his tongue on my bottom lip asking to enter, and when i opened my mouth just a little bit his tongue was circling around the roof of my mouth.

“damn.” - you mumbled

when joe pulled away, that smirk was still on his face and the lust still shined in his eyes.

“it’s not bad.” - joe shrugged

“boy please.” - you roll your eyes

joe laughed and continued to eat. there were times i’d catch him staring, or his gaze would linger on my chest for a few seconds before looking away.

“you’re zoning out on me.” - you

“am not. i’m admiring you, you look ridiculously gorgeous today.” - joe

“thank you, joey.” - you smiled

joe’s eyes flicked down to my salad bowl and when he saw that it was empty, his excitement only grew more.

“wanna head back to the bedroom?” - joe

“i could def take a nap!” - you

“def not what i meant.” - joe winked

“maybe later? i need a nap first.” - you

“you can’t just suck my finger like that and then reject me.” - joe

“i’m not rejecting you, you goof. lemme get a 30 minute power nap in before we do anything like that.” - you

joe rolled his eyes but eventually got out of his seat, he walked over to where i was sitting and put his hand out to help me up. it was a habit he’d made during my pregnancy since it was hard for me to get up with my big bump.

“c’mon, momma.” - joe

we walked hand in hand through the small hallway of the jet, joe opened the door in the very back where the small bedroom was revealed.

joe led me over to the bed after shutting the door behind us, tripple checking that he locked the door.

the bed definitely wasn’t the ideal size, way smaller than the one we have at home. that was evident when i laid down and was the full length of it.

“babe, i think you’re gonna be bigger than the bed.” - you laughed

“calling me fat?” - joe gasped

“no! you’re 6’4, baby. if i’m the length of the bed, your feet are definitely gonna dangle.” - you

joe plopped down onto the bed and laid flat on his back, i had to laugh when his feet hovered in the air at the end of the bed.

“joey, your feet!” - you laughed

my laughing muffled when joe pulled me into his chest, his own laughter filling the room.

“roll over. if we spoon i can curl up and fit.” - joe

“yes sir.” - you teasingly bit your lower lip before following orders

“stop that! god, i hope this fuckin nap goes by quickly.” - joe

once joe seemed to be comfortable, and completely on the bed, i shut my eyes and drifted to sleep.

*time skip*

(joe’s pov)

i wasn’t that tired, so i just cuddled up to y/n and let her sleep. it was 15 minutes in when she started moving around. i just thought she was stirring in her sleep, but when she started grinding her ass against my crotch i knew this wasn’t just restless sleeping.

“baby?” - joe whispered

pushing myself up on my elbow to see her, i was met with a peacefully asleep y/n. the room in my pants was starting to get tight, and i really didn’t want to wait 15 minutes till her 30 minutes would be up.

this one particular time where she ground into me a little too hard, a groan escaped my lips and in return she moaned my name.

“y/n? are you awake?” - joe

“joey…” - you whimpered

fuck it.

i gently shook her shoulder and when her eyes opened she was gasping for breath.

she looked at me like she embarrassed, her cheeks flashing red. i hadn’t even asked her about her dream, but i’m guessing the grin on my lips and my erection pushed against her behind was enough clues.

“so, how was your dream?” - joe

“oh no. please tell me i didn’t do anything stupid.” - you

“i wouldn’t say moaning my name and grinding on me in your sleep is stupid.” - joe smirked

“oh my god! im so sorry!” - you

“no reason to be sorry, baby. it’s super fucking hot that i can make you moan even in your sleep.” - joe smiled smugly

“your ego is huge, joey b.” - you

“not the only thing about me that’s huge, wanna see what else is?” - joe

she hesitated for a second, so i let my hand roam from her waist down to her ass. when she instinctively pushed into me more i moved forward and pressed my lips onto hers.

“i thought that having sex on a plane was illegal..” - you

“they just gonna put a bed back here and expect us not to fuck?” - joe

“joe!” - you laughed

“i’m being serious, y/n.” - joe

“sorry.. what’s the game plan?” - you

i took one of her hands and placed it on my bulge before continuing, her eyes shined with lust.

“you practically tortured me in your sleep, i want your pretty lips around my cock.” - joe

a smug smirk formed on her lips, she loved hearing me talk about how i wanted her.

in a matter of minutes we were heavily making out, clothes flying across the room till we were both completely naked.

y/n maneuvered me to where i was sitting at the edge of the bed, and she lowered onto her knees between my spread legs.

i tilted my head to the side as i watched her examine my hard dick, not in a weird way, she was more admiring it than anything.

(y/n’s pov)

“you’re perfect.” - you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his length, giving him slow pumps

“i- i don’t know about that.” - joe

i looked up at him through my lashes to maintain eye contact as i licked over his tip. the groan that left his mouth hitting me straight in the crotch.

“oh god-” - joe groaned

removing my hand from his length, i licked the underside of his cock and took him in my mouth.

i had dropped my eyes from his since my nose was met with his happy trail, but occasionally i’d look up at him just to see his perfect top teeth sunk into his plump bottom lip.

he moved one of the arms that was holding himself up and laced his fingers into my hair to help guide me to his standards.

“holy- shit!” - joe

joe wasn’t loud in bed. praise, mumbled curses, and groans being his go-to’s, but due to the fact it had been over a year since we’ve done this i wasn’t at all surprised when he let out a louder moan.

i pulled off of his dick for a moment to lick and suck on his balls. ghosting my fingertips over the veins in his cock, i knew he was close by how his hips were bucking up.

“please- baby, i’m so close. i wanna cum down your throat..” - joe

still massaging his balls with my hand, i closed my lips around him and he pushed my head down to where his tip hit the back of my throat. a loud moan left his lips and i felt the hot spurts of his climax in the back of my throat.

“fucking hell-” - joe groaned

joe was still breathing heavy when i pulled off of him completely, he fell back against the bed as his chest heaved.

“you good, baby?” - you

“better than good.. that was insane.” - joe

i laid down next to him and he immediately pulled my head onto his chest, peppering kisses on my forehead.

“you ready for a nap now?” - you giggled

“oh hell no! this isn’t over.” - joe

“oh?” - you

i could barely finish my word when joe flipped us over to where he was leaning over me.

“you think i’d pass up getting inside you? absolutely the fuck not.” - joe

“then get inside me, joe.” - you

joe looked down at me with lust blown eyes, they were scanning my face till he leaned down and pressed his lips onto mine.

i was expecting his cock, so when he ran two fingers through my folds, i gasped out.

“you’re so wet, mama” - joe kissed you and entered in his fingers

“all for you-” - you moaned

a moment later, he disengaged his lips from mine and moved to where he was between my legs. joe moved to prop my knees up and pulled his fingers out of me, quickly replacing them with his tongue.

“oh god, joe!” - you moaned

i clenched around his tongue making him moan, the vibrations only making the experience better.

“i’m close!” - you

joe picked up the pace and it wasn’t long till i was screaming his name while wrapping my legs around his neck.

there was a few seconds of silence before joe unwrapped my legs from his neck and leaned over me again.

“you okay? it wasn’t too much right?” - joe

it was so sweet for him to check up on me, this was our first time since i gave birth and joe just wanted to make sure it was a pleasurable experience for me.

“it was perfect, really perfect. i think i passed out for a second.” - you laughed

joe laughed before placing a sweet kiss on my lips.

“grand finale time?” - you

“grand finale time.” - joe confirmed with a wink

i watched joe slowly stroke himself before he was lining his tip up with my entrance.

“listen. if it starts to hurt, you want me to stop, slow down, or if you want to do something different just tell me okay?” - joe

“okay, joey. i love you.” - you

“i love you too, honey.” - joe kissed your cheek

my arms wrapped around his neck as joe slowly entered me, once he started moving i realized something. this wasn’t fucking.. this was making love.

it was different from the sex we had before the twins, but it definitely wasn’t bad- it was more intimate in a way.

“god, i missed you so much.” - joe

“i missed you too…” - you moaned into his neck

joe started to pick up the pace, he was beginning to overcome his fear of hurting me.

“you feel so good, baby.” - joe

finding myself starting to get lost in the feeling of him, i couldn’t even form a response.

“i’m not gonna last very long!” - you

“that’s okay. this is about you, my love.” - joe

after a few more steady thrusts, that unmistakable feeling swarmed in my stomach.

“joe- joey.. i’m gonna cum!” - you

“cum, baby. let go for me.” - joe grunted

second later, my orgasm washed over me and the way my walls were fluttering around joe’s dick had him not far off either.

“don’t you dare fucking stop.” - you

“you sure?” - joe

“don’t stop till you cum too.” - you

joe resumed thrusting and a minute later his moans were getting more frequent.

“gonna- cum!” - joe

i grabbed his face and pulled him down to me, put lips engaging in a kiss that was nothing but filthy as he stilled inside me before finishing.

joe collapsed on top of me and i immediately wrapped my arms around him to start rubbing his back.

“i love you, joe.” - you

“i love you too.” - joe mumbled into your neck

i continued to hold him till he eventually pulled out and rolled off of me, he almost immediately pulled me into his chest and kissed my head.

“joey?” - you

“mhm?” - joe

“it’s kinda cold.” - you

joe sighed and sat up, climbing out of bed to check the cabinet next to it.

when joe opened the cabinet doors, a neat stack of throw blankets were revealed.

“voila!” - joe grabbed a blanket and tossed it at you

he turned around to shut the doors and i quickly leaned up to playfully slap his bare ass, i only giggled louder when he glared at me.

“you’ve got a nice ass! i mean can you blame me?” - you laughed

joe laughed with me as he fell onto the bed and pulled me into him again.

“i feel like knocking out for a couple hours.” - joe

“we can do that, as long as we wake up early enough to get dressed before we land.” - you

“sounds good.” - joe yawned

I raked my fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek, life with Joe was crazy but he sure made loving fun.

————————————————————————-

authors note: might not be the only fic of mine coming out tonight 😏😏

here are the requests that made this fic;

hope you enjoyed! 🫶

[squippy360]

Would be interesting to see SubTop!Clark Kent x DomBottom!Male reader

Clark Kent x Male Reader

(CW: overstimulation, cursing, degrading, lingerie play)

I stumbled through the front door of me and Clark's house, dragging Clark in by his tie. I slammed the door closed and shoved him against the wall, pinning one of his arms to his side. 

"I can't fucking take you anywhere. All those damn people flirting with you like they're a bunch of bitches in heat." You growled at him, running your hands over his firm body. Clark's eyes were filled with shame, lust, and need. 

"I-I'm sorry, my love! T-They just seemed so nice a-and I didn't think that it would make you upset…" Clark's eyes softened and glossed over, flashing me his puppy eyes. 

"After they groped your arms you came running over to me and practically humped me. You got turned on by those fuckers fondling your muscles, you naughty bitch." You growled and gripped his face and smashed your lips onto his. He whined loudly but was cut off by a firm squeeze on his carotid artery. His eyes rolled back a bit and his legs shook as he tried to stay up. 

I smirked and pulled away, watching as his bright pink lips twitched and small whimpers escaped his mouth. "Please…" He whined. I could see that his pants were tight as his cock strained against the restricting fabric. I grabbed him by the tie and yanked him upstairs. He stumbled along and yelled as I pushed him into the bed. 

I crawled on his lap and tore off his dress shirt. I sighed at his black lingerie that supported his big pecs. I smashed my face in his chest and sucked and bit his nipples. "Good boy~," I said and ground against Clark's waist. 

"Oh please! I'm gonna lose it, darling!" Clark whimpered and bucked his hips up into me. I wiggled down and began to take our clothes off. His big and pretty pink cock was dripping with precum all over his underwear. I threw them away and flopped on the bed, pulling Clark on top of me. 

"Prove that you can be a good boy. That you can control yourself in public without the need to cum in your pants every time you're near me." I said and grabbed a condom and lube. I tore the condom open and rolled it onto Clark's cock while spreading lube around my hole. 

"Should I prep you? I don't want it to hurt-" Clark began. "Be a good boy and fuck me already." I said and spread my legs far enough for his waist to fit perfectly. He lifted my hips easily and slipped his cock into my tight hole. He moaned softly and pumped his cock in and out of me mindlessly. 

I gasped and arched my back, moaning loudly. "F-Fuck- OH!" I saw stars when he buried his face in my neck and humped me faster. I clawed at his back and whined into his shoulder loudly. His hands felt around me everywhere before grabbing my cock and jerking it in his hand. 

My eyes rolled back and my thighs twitched as I came all over my tummy. "Fuck! Clark!" I moaned. He was whimpering louder, getting close to his release. 

"Stop." I growled. 

"No! Please!" He sobbed loudly as his hips came to a sudden jerk. I smirked and wiggled my hips to tease him. I waited a bit before letting him thrust into me again. 

"Keep going but don't cum unless I tell you." He was faster this time. His moans were high-pitched and whiny. His thrusts became sloppy and needy.

"Shit…shit shit! Yes!" My eyes rolled back and my hips twitched. "Such a good boy~ Oooooh~" I whined as his cock bottomed out inside of me and his cum filled my hole. I shuddered and looked down with a lustful face. He sighed happily and trusted a few times, burying his semen deeper inside me. 

He slowly pulled out and watched with glazed eyes as the cum poured out. I wiggled into the bed more and let Clark clean us. He shyly dressed us before hopping into bed and cuddling into my arms. 

"Was it good?" Clark whispered gently. 

"You were wonderful, love." I whispered back. He kissed me and we both spent the night giggling about our day. 

Next: uhhhhhhhhh-

[leviathans-watching]

Breaking the Ice

includes: diavolo x f!reader (she/her & you/your pronouns used, no physical body description)

wc: 14k | rated t | m.list | crossposted on ao3

warnings: cursing, more raunchy than my normal stuff (implied/fade-to-black sexual content), past raphael x reader

huge huge huge thanks to my three amazing betas for this @jeschalynn, @hyperfixat, & @fickleminder, you all seriously elevated this fic and i'm so grateful to you!!

a/n: i have been (slowly) working on this since NOVEMBER. you can't imagine how good this feels to finally post 😫😫. here's a guide to the boys' positions & numbers if you're interested and also where i go over some of the hockey terminology used within this fic! please remember to reblog/comment/etc., it's really appreciated! also blah blah blah creative liberties and suspension of belief. i'm also not a hockey experts so mistakes should be expected 👍

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.”

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.”

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him.

“A jersey?”

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring.

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you!

∙

Following your childhood best friend across the country after his trade to the Devildom Dogs—one of the most prolific AHL Hockey teams in the business—hadn't been the plan, but you can't say you're not liking it. Especially because the handsome and charming captain of the team, Diavolo, seems to be making it his new season goal to break the ice between you and get to know you better.

“And now,” the announcer’s voice echoes over the arena, egged on by the cheers of the crowd, “we welcome the Devildom Dogs out to the ice!” 

The sounds of blades scraping on ice fill the air, and the raucous cheering only grows louder. It should be no different from your old arena, your old team, and yet it is. 

Well, except for one thing. Person. As he skates out onto the rink to warm up, Simeon catches your eye, giving you a quick wink that’s barely visible through his helmet. You sigh good-naturedly, and he smiles. 

You and Simeon have been friends for as long as you can remember—since birth, if your mothers are telling the truth—and when he’d been traded from the Celestial City Chols all of the way across the country to the Devildom, you hadn’t really seen a reason not to go with him. Your work was completely virtual, and there hadn’t been anything really tying you to the Celestial City after your engagement had been called off. Honestly, though it kind of sucked that Simeon got traded to the biggest rival of the CC Chols, you have high hopes about this new city and team. 

A puck slams into the glass just in front of your face. You don’t jump. The boys on the CC Chols had always loved to mess with you and you were long used to things flying at you at what seemed like a million miles per hour. But it wasn’t one of the CC boys who’d sent that puck flying, and as you scan across the ice, you see it was one of the forwards, number one. Simeon had been kind enough to give you the down low on all of his new teammates, and you’d spent a fair amount of time pouring over the roster and memorizing stats, so it’s not hard to put a name to the number. Face. Whatever. 

Mammon, starting forward for the season, gives you a smirk then turns away, all flashy footwork and dexterous control. You pause to admire the way his jersey stretches across his back, and then the jersey itself. Damn, he looks good. The jersey looks good—you had designed it after all. 

You hadn’t always wanted to be an AHL jersey and logo designer, but through a combination of hard work and dumb luck, you are now the hand behind a myriad of teams’ looks, including the Devildom Dogs and the Celestial City Chols. Not that many people know about the person behind the designs. The average person is typically a lot more invested in the person wearing the jersey, not the one designing it, which is just fine with you. With the amount of money you’re getting, you honestly don’t need recognition. 

That paycheck allowed you to purchase the highest level VIP season tickets for the season, managing to snag the seat closest to the home team benches, meaning you’re only a few feet from the team. Simeon had laughed when you’d told him this, but you hadn't cared. Now you can make sure he heard you when you yelled at him for his playing.

As you wait out the warmups, you try to compare this rink with that of your old team. The biggest difference that you could sense was the vibe. Back at the Chols’ rink, the air had been light, filled with more excitement than anything else. But here, it’s different. There’s a bloodthirsty undercurrent running through the crowd, a cutthroat competitiveness that’s completely new to you. The fans are already bothering the opposing team, hurling taunts and insults their way, with the mascot of the Devildom Dogs, an iteration of Cerberus the three-headed dog, whipping the fans into an even crazier frenzy. 

And it’s not only the fans that are different; the players are, too. Even within the League, the Dogs have a reputation for playing fast and dirty, masterfully bending the rules without breaking them. You’ve always been impressed by them (not that you’d ever admitted it before, as doing so would have been treason to the Chols), but you’re kind of excited to be able to openly study and praise their skilled playing. Especially since you hope this will give Simeon the team that he needs. It had been clear to you, that he was a cut above the rest in the Chols. Not that that was a bad thing, but now you hope he can be matched, have the room that he needs to stretch his wings and fully use his talent without his team falling behind.

Before you know it, warmups come to an end. The non-starting players file back into the benches and you’re proud to see Simeon remaining on the ice. He’d been traded during the off-season, so it had completely taken you both by surprise to hear he’d be a starter, considering all of the veteran players on the team.

You stand for the national anthem, then finally, finally, the puck is dropped. The team they’re playing against today is one you’re not all that familiar with, and honestly couldn’t care less about, so you focus your attention more on watching Simeon play than you do the game as a whole. 

Due to the proximity of your seat to the benches you’re able to hear the chatter of the players, the coach barking orders, and even the signal to change lines. It’s a whole new experience. When you’d go to watch the Chols’ games, you were in the VIP lounge, which, while pretty fancy and awesome, was removed from the ice and the actual grittiness of the game. 

Plus, you never got a moment to yourself. All of the other wives and permanent girlfriends had always wanted to chat, and while they were pleasant enough, sometimes you just wanted to lose yourself to the game, yell and scream with the rest of the crowd. 

Simeon is on a line with Solomon, who’s a forward, and Leviathan, who’s a left-winger. He’s playing hard and well, proving he deserves to be on this team. You egg him on from your seat, making an effort to have your voice heard above the crowd. The Dogs are playing fairly clean tonight, and you wonder if it’s because it’s opening night. 

Or maybe it’s because they don’t need to play dirty. It’s clear they outclass the opposing team in every way, their insane training schedule paying off. The boys are blurs on the ice, and hardly ever on your side of the rink, as they’re pushing hard to keep the puck near the opposing team's goal. At least you’ll be able to see better when they switch sides in the next period. 

Simeon returns to the benches and gives you a grin, chugging water. You flutter your fingers in a wave, mouth twisting with a smile. Solomon, following his gaze, locks eyes with you, and you flick a glance between them before turning back to the game, determinedly not looking over. Your eyes are drawn to Diavolo and Lucifer, the defensemen currently on the ice. The other pair you’ve seen tonight, Barbatos and Belphegor, are good, but these two… they’re something else. 

They move in perfect formation, seemingly able to anticipate one another’s actions. You remember that Simeon had said they’ve been together since the Q, even were drafted together which is practically unheard of, and now you understand why. They’re menaces of black and red, and it would be a complete shame to separate them. There was even talk of Diavolo moving up to the NHL at one point, but after he became captain he chose to stay down. 

You watch as Diavolo steals the puck from under the opposing team’s nose, sending it neatly toward Lucifer, who delivers it right to Asmodeus. He, like the rest of the team, is incredibly talented, but unlike the others, he relies on speed and agility rather than brute force. You’d read somewhere he’d taken a fair amount of figure skating classes to improve his balance and form, and it’s really paid off. 

Asmodeus takes the puck all of the way down to the other end of the rink, passing to Mammon, who scores. You’re on your feet with the rest of the arena before you can think, cheering loudly. The boys do a quick celly then get right back to business, switching out with Simeon’s line. 

The players on the bench all slap Mammon on the back as he takes his seat, casual as can be. 

“You should have sent it to me,” Satan grumbles, barely audible over the din of the crowd and you unashamedly eavesdrop, not even bothering to hide your stare. Around you, the other superfans are still celebrating and their enthusiasm is infectious. 

“Whatever,” Mammon shoots back. “I got it in, didn’t I?” 

Asmodeus laughs, light and airy. “Barely.” 

“Can it, dipshit.” Mammon leans over and smacks him on the shoulder, and you notice he’s taken off his gloves. You smother a chuckle, then return your attention to the ice. The opposing team’s fighting pretty hard, but they’re clearly fighting a futile battle. Any time they manage to get the puck near the Dogs’ goal it’s quickly sent back across the ice, and the few rare times they do manage a shot, it’s easily stopped, mostly by the d-men or the goalie. It almost seems like the Dogs are toying with them, letting them get close to scoring and then removing the chance completely, then repeating the action. 

Frustrated, one of the players on the opposing team lashes out, dropping his gloves and rounding on Simeon. He dodges the clumsy blows easily, putting him in his place with a clean uppercut. The ref finally gets between them, taking longer than normal, something you’ve noticed from watching the Devildom Dog’s old games is pretty usual for their arena. They tend to let them go a little longer, which gives the Dogs a better opportunity to beat the shit out of the other players with beautiful brutality. The Chols had been all about good sportsmanship, so fights were a lot less common with them than the average team.

You wish you had been filming, but no doubt there will be videos online depicting the fight thanks to some other fan uploaded within the hour. 

Simeon is unscathed, but the other player spits blood across the ice, glowering at him. You let out a long whoop, and he half turns towards you, lips curving up in a small, feral smile. You can already see it—this change is good for him.

They both get a few minutes for roughing, but Simeon looks all too happy to be in the sin bin. You can’t help but snap a few pictures, throwing them on your story. The game resumes with more energy, with both the players and the crowd whipped up into more of a frenzy. The fans want blood, or at least for crushing defeat to be delivered, and it seems like the team’s hellbent on delivering. It’s a fantastic game, wilder and more energizing than you’ve seen in a long time, and you can’t help but be excited for the upcoming rest of the season. 

As the game draws nearer to the end, the opposing team pulls their goalie, but quickly puts it back after the Devildom Dogs score yet another goal, increasing the already sizable score gap. When the buzzer finally goes off signaling the end of the game, the away team looks utterly defeated while the Devildom Dogs celebrate. You catch a few curses and middle fingers shared between teams, and again, have to laugh. 

You stand and cheer with the rest of the crowd, reveling in the thrill of the win along with the team. Simeon’s in the center of it all, receiving congratulatory slaps and fist-bumps, and you know without a doubt he’s been accepted as one of their own. You’re a bit relieved—he’d been worried about not getting along with the others. Not that it’s necessary at this level of playing, but at his center, Simeon likes being liked and had been worried about how he was being received. 

Around you, fans start making their way out of the auditorium, and you follow, knowing Simeon’s going to go out to celebrate with the rest of the team. You feel eyes on you as you leave. You look over and make eye contact with the team captain, Diavolo, who gives you a half genuinely warm, half inquisitive smile. You tilt your head and smile back, slightly teasing, then turn away. 

∙

The walk back to your and Simeon’s shared apartment isn’t far, but it is a bit chillier than it is this time of year in Celestial City, so you’re grateful when you’re able to close the door behind you. You send off a quick text to Simeon telling him you’d made it safe, then just pause for a moment, digesting the game. The boys had played great, your jerseys had looked fantastic, and you were pretty sure you’d already caught the attention of some of the players. You’ll get to know them all eventually, or at least that’s what you assume since you’d been so familiar with the CC Chols, so you’re not too worried, but the image of that smile the captain had sent you plays in your head. It’s unusual for fans to be given attention like that, so you wonder if Simeon’s already said something about you.

Shaking yourself, you start your bedtime routine and change into more comfortable clothes. You won’t actually go to sleep for a while, perks of making your own hours and being a night owl, but starting it early never hurts. You also need to stay up for Simeon, as you know he’s going to want to tell you all about the game from his perspective. You’re excited to hear it, as well as excited to hear what hanging with the guys after is like. 

Time passes, and with no word from him, you begin to get a little worried. It’s not unheard of for him to come home late. If he were with the Chols, you wouldn’t be worried at all, but he’s in an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar guys, you’ve heard about the hazing horror stories. You uneasily move around the apartment, trying to convince yourself that you’re overreacting. Suddenly your phone rings, that familiar ring-tone carrying through the air, and you hurry to answer it, raising your phone to your ear. 

“Simeon?” you ask breathlessly. 

“Uh, not Simeon,” an unfamiliar voice says, and you jerk back, checking the caller ID. It is Simeon’s number. “My name is Diavolo, I’m captain of the Devildom Dogs hockey team, the one that Simeon recently joined. I’m not sure what all you know or who you are, but your name is favorited in his contacts, and I think Simeon needs to get picked up. I would drop him off myself,” he adds regretfully, “but I’m a little buzzed and don’t want to get behind the wheel.” 

“Totally understandable,” you assure him. “Is Simeon okay? What happened?” 

Diavolo sighs. “Solomon and Asmo happened. They’re two other team members and they love welcoming the new team members with open arms. And lots of booze.” 

“Are you saying he’s drunk?” you ask, finally catching his drift. “Simeon doesn’t typically drink much.” 

“Asmodeus can be very persuasive. And not like, black-out drunk, but definitely feeling it.” 

“I see. Well, what bar are you guys at? I can swing by to pick him up now, if you’d like?” 

“That would be great,” Diavolo sighs with relief, and his warm tone sends butterflies through your stomach. He gives you the location and you realize it’s only a few blocks from your apartment, easily within walking distance. You’ll walk there, and if needed, call a rideshare back. 

“I’ll be there in like, fifteen minutes,” you say, already pulling on your shoes. You look like crap, but honestly, you’ve never been one to care about things like that.  If Simeon’s drunk enough that you need to pick him up, you really don’t want to waste time. 

“Okay, thank you. And I’m really sorry about all of this,” Diavolo says earnestly. “I’ll be having words with Solomon and Asmo both about this.” 

“Don’t be,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s only natural they’d get rowdy after a win, and I’m sure you have your hands full with everyone else. I totally get it. As long as it’s not a repeating occurrence. I can’t come and get him after every game.” 

Diavolo laughs, deep and warm. “Yes ma’am. See you in a few.” 

You hurry to the bar, hand wrapped around your pepper spray. Though Celestial City has been pretty safe, you know that the Devildom is less so, but there are enough people still out that you don’t feel too sketched out. When you arrive at the bar, you walk in, scanning the room for the team. They’re easy enough to spot, and you make your way over. 

“No more autographs,” someone groans as you approach, and you realize it’s Belphegor, the d-man who plays beside Barbatos. 

“I’m not here for that,” you say, and everyone looks over. You only have eyes for Simeon, who’s slumped over in a booth, tapping away on his phone. “Get up,” you demand, poking him in the side. 

While he struggles to sit up properly, sluggish from the booze,  you lean over to Diavolo. 

“Hi,” you say, clearing your throat, “I’m MC. We spoke on the phone earlier.” 

“You’re the chick who was at the game,” Mammon crows, pushing himself next to you before Diavolo can reply. “It’s nice to meet ya!” 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” you say, taking him in. He’s tall and muscular, but nowhere as near as broad as Diavolo, who is honestly, a hunk of a man. 

“Thank you for coming,” Diavolo says gratefully. “I’ve been giving him water to help him sober up but he’s still tipsy. You got here quickly.” 

“Yeah, well, our apartment is only a few blocks from here,” you say with a shrug, pulling Simeon up to his feet.

“You live together?” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of honey-blonde hair and Asmodeus as he speaks up. “Are you two married?” 

Before you can reply, Simeon laughs, and it seems like he’s starting to sober up a little. “No. Lord, no.” He continues to laugh, shaking his head.

You roll your eyes and clarify, “No, Simeon and I are childhood friends. When he got traded to the Devildom Dogs I decided I was sick of the CC Chols and followed. And it’s a good thing I did,” you say severely, turning your scolding to Simeon, “because look at the state you’re in.” 

“Please,” a smile tugs at the edge of his lips, “if you’d been here you’d be way worse off than me and we both know it.” 

Well, he’s got you there.

“Hey,” Simeon says, and it’s like a lightbulb has gone off over his head. “I just had the most genius idea. MC, let’s stay here for a bit so you can meet everybody.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you say doubtfully, and the boys all begin talking at once. 

“No, no, sit down!” Diavolo encourages you, and after another moment of hesitation, you sit. Simeon slides back into the booth, scooting further over so you have room, and you make sure to jam him in the side with your elbow ‘accidentally’ as you’re settling. He pinches your side in return, but since you’re in public you can’t retaliate like you would at your apartment, or even back with the CC Chols, who were familiar with your relationship. Starting the night by getting into a hissy slap fight isn’t the image you want to start off with. 

“Um, congratulations on the game,” you say. “You all played very well.” 

“Of course we did,” Mammon crows, “we’re the fucking Devildom Dogs!” 

“Mammon, be polite,” Lucifer, Diavolo’s d-man partner says, and Mammon makes a face. “Thank you very much,” he says, turning to face you directly. “I’m Lucifer, and this is…” 

Lucifer introduces everyone around the table for you, and you do yours when they’re finished. 

“So, MC, what do you do?” Satan asks. 

“I’m a logo designer,” you reply. Simeon rolls his eyes at your vague response but doesn’t spoil your fun. “I run a small design business out of our apartment.”

“You must be pretty good to be able to afford those seats,” Solomon points out slyly. “That is if you’re a season ticket member? I guess you could have just bought it off the actual member for the night.”

“So, you’re not successful?” Belphegor asks.

Simeon shakes his head. “No, she is, but she’s also really humble.” 

“Sure, humble,” you agree wryly. 

“Is there anything you want to drink?�� Diavolo cuts in, leaning over the table to be heard better, but you shake your head regretfully. 

“Sorry, not today. One of us has gotta be able to manage getting us home.”

“Next time, then?” 

A handful of men have pursued you in the past, but he’s definitely the most charming, you think as he gives you a look both guileless and expectant. And you’re not opposed, so you laugh and agree, “Sure, next time.” 

“MC, was it?” Asmodeus purrs, and you turn to him. He knows damn well what your name is. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Ah, no,” you reply, and your mind flashes back to your ex-fiance. Your relationship with Raphael had been fun, but it was clear that neither of you were really interested in marriage, but the pressure took its toll. Honestly, your decision to move to the Devildom was a really good opportunity to start fresh. You were glad you didn’t have any reason to really see him anymore. “I broke off my engagement recently and I’m still trying to get back on the dating scene.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Asmodeus says a bit awkwardly. You wish you’d given him a little less of the truth.

“Don’t be.” You give him a bright smile. “It wasn’t a bad relationship, we just realized that we weren’t compatible long-term and it was best to part ways.” 

“Kudos to you for having the balls to break it off, then,” Diavolo speaks up suddenly. “That must have been difficult.” 

“It was difficult at first, yeah,” you reply, “but it was the best choice and I don’t regret it.” 

“Enough of that,” Simeon cuts in, throwing his arm around your shoulders. He can sense your reluctance to fully jump into talking about your failed relationship. “I think MC wants to know more about all of you.” 

“That’s true,” you agree with a laugh. “A girl can’t help but be curious about the most notorious team in the AHL.” 

“What do you think of us so far?” Satan asks, raising one neat eyebrow.

“You’re all a lot nicer than the rumors say, for one,” you begin, and Mammon laughs. 

“Well, that’s because we like you so far. Believe me, if we didn’t, you wouldn’t be callin’ us nice.” 

“I’m almost offended,” Solomon says, putting a hand on his chest. “I’ve been described as a lot of things, but nice’? I deserve more credit than that!” 

“Well damn, okay,” you say jokingly, holding your hands up innocently. “I wasn’t trying to offend. I guess you’re all also a lot funnier than I thought. In my experience hockey boys usually aren’t quite as witty as you’ve been tonight.” 

“Was that an insult to hockey players?” Beelzebub grumbles to Belphegor, who nods seriously. 

“I think it was.” 

“Well not to you,” you say exasperatedly, and the honeyed laugh that you get from Diavolo feels like a win. 

The night goes on with info and chirps being swapped back and forth, and by the time it’s time to pack up and all separate, you feel like you’ve gained a lot through this experience. Your worries are mostly assuaged; you’ve gotten to know all of the boys at least somewhat, and everyone now knows you.

“Well, we’re this way,” you say to Diavolo, who walked you out. Simeon is still inside, paying his tab, so it’s just the two of you under the entrance lights. The city is dark yet still busy, and you’re glad to see the nightlife is what had been advertised, lively and entrancing. “It was really nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me hang out and meet everyone.” 

“We enjoyed your company,” he says smoothly. “Thanks for giving up your evening to spend time with a bunch of nice, witty hockey players.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan. “You guys are never going to let me forget that, are you?” 

“Nope.” His teeth glint in the light, standing out against his dark skin. He has a nice smile, you think to yourself before you realize you’ve been staring. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the interested expression on his face is any indication. 

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.” 

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.” 

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him. 

“A jersey?” 

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring. 

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you! “You can just give it to Simeon whenever it's convenient for you.” 

“Oh, no,” he disagrees, “I think I’ve gotta give it to you directly, you know, to make sure it gets to you safe and sound. How about you swing by one of our practices next week? I can give it to you then.” 

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” you say, knowing you’re definitely free. “I’m a busy woman. Popular, too.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” he recipes silkily, but before either of you can add anything else, Simeon appears, his suspicious eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“MC, stop your flirting so we can get home,” he instructs, and you laugh. 

“As if you’re not the reason we’re still here. See you, Diavolo.” 

“I’m holding you to that,” he calls as you walk away. “Next week, okay?” 

“We’ll see,” you return without looking back. You both know that means ‘yes’.

∙

Cracking your back, you push away from your desk, finally finished with work. The Devildom Dogs reached out to you and asked for a Veterans Day design, so you’ve spent the whole day brainstorming potential ideas for the jerseys.

You were glad they contacted you, especially since they were asking for a rush job which meant you were able to get them to sign a contract that would pay you a lot of money. Man, you love your job. And money.

“Done with work?” Simeon asks, poking his head into your room. Your apartment was pretty modest so your workspace was in your bedroom, and honestly, though it was kind of cramped, the setup was pretty sweet. 

“Yep,” you say, and he walks fully in, sitting on the bed. “Management of the Dogs reached out, they want Veterans Day jerseys.”

“What do you have so far?” he asks, and you spend a few moments looking at the designs you’d thrown together. 

“I really like that one,” he says, choosing his favorite, and you make a mental note of that. Ultimately, it comes down to the people you’re working with with the Devildom Dogs, but Simeon has pretty good taste and is usually right about which design will get chosen.

“How was your day?” you ask. They didn’t have a game or official practice, but you were pretty sure you’d seen him heading out to the gym earlier in the day. 

“It was good,” he says, flopping back onto his back, “but I’m tired. And I don’t want to cook.” 

“I don’t either,” you admit. “Takeout?” 

“My trainer’s going to kill me,” he grumbles but opens his phone and starts scrolling through the delivery options. 

“You rarely go off of your diet plan,” you dismiss. “Once in a while won’t hurt.” 

Within a few moments, Simeon’s placed an order at some sandwich place nearby. “Should be delivered within the hour.”

“Sweet.” 

When the food comes, the two of you ignore your table to sit on the couch, putting on the shows you’ve been watching. You take a moment to snap a picture of him, the TV, and the food, and put it on your Instagram story. 

It’s only a few moments before your phone buzzes and you see someone’s swiped up. 

Diavolo_14: Is that meal trainer approved? 

MC: What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him lol

Diavolo_14: I guess at least it’s sandwiches. Could be worse.

MC: And I convinced Simeon anyway, so blame me not him

Diavolo_14: Oh, I have no doubts about who’s responsible. What are you watching?

MC: Some dumb sitcom. IDK, Simeon and I just make our way through shows together for something to do

Diavolo_14: Jealous. 

MC: Of the food?

Diavolo_14: Of Simeon. I want to watch dumb sitcoms with you. 

“What—or who—has you smiling like that?” Simeon asks, leaning over to look at your phone. You turn it away from him, sticking out your tongue. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“It’s Diavolo, isn’t it?” he asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“You better not try to warn me or him off, okay? We’re both adults and—”

“I literally do not care.” He gives you a sideways glance. “Unless he breaks your heart, of course. But other than that, do whatever you want.”

“Thanks for the heartfelt sentiment,” you say sarcastically, and he laughs. You’re so glad Simeon’s never been the overprotective type, as you’d definitely chafe under it. Over time, the both of you have mostly been a listening ear, only giving advice when asked, and it’s a system that works really well for the both of you. 

With a start, you realize you’ve left Diavolo hanging, and go back to the DM thread. 

MC: Is that so?

Diavolo_14: That is so. Now, when are you going to come to practice to get that jersey?

MC: Well, I was going to surprise you tomorrow…

Diavolo_14: And now I’ve ruined the surprise, haven’t I?

MC: Yeah lol. 

Diavolo_14: Well, you should still come tomorrow.

MC: Alright, alright, see you then

Diavolo_14: Looking forward to it, MC.

His words send a flutter through your stomach, and you have a hard time focusing on the show for the rest of the night, too busy thinking about one, handsome captain of the Devildom Dogs. Simeon chirps and needles you for it, something you let him do because you probably deserve it. 

“Whatever,” you finally say, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, get that beauty sleep,” he replies. “You need it.” 

Grabbing a throw pillow, you chuck it in his direction, making a hasty retreat to your room. 

It’s hard to fall asleep, but once you do, you have good dreams and wake up well-rested. Even though you’re really looking forward to Simeon’s practice, it’s not until the afternoon so you keep busy working on the Veterans Day jersey designs though your mind drifts more often than you’d like to admit. 

You’ve only known Diavolo for a few days, but things are just so electric with him. Sparks truly do fly between the two of you and his flirting makes you feel giddy, but your last relationship wasn’t been filled with lots of laughter so you feel like you’re entitled to it. You wonder if he feels this way too. Does he feel the connection? What does he want with you? Before you can linger on the thoughts, you stand, forcing yourself to switch gears.

“Ready to go?” Simeon asks when you walk into the living room, and you nod. You have your laptop just in case you get bored (which you doubt will happen) and you put it in the backseat of Simeon’s car. 

“This is so exciting,” you say, only half-kidding. “Behind the scenes with the Devildom Dogs. Do you think the others will mind me watching?” 

Simeon shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. Everyone likes you and this gives them a chance to show off.” Laughing, he says, “I think they might like you more than me.” 

“That is so not true,” you argue with an eye roll. “They’ve only met me once. And how could they? Everyone has always gotten along better with you than me anyway.” 

“Yeah, because I’m not annoying as hell,” he says nonchalantly, and you send him a glare. 

“You’re so lucky you’re driving,” you threaten. “I don’t know why everyone always thinks you’re so angelic. You’re such an ass to me.” 

“It’s deserved,” he points out, and okay, you have to agree.

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the ice rink they use for practice, you waste no time gathering your shit and hopping out of the car. 

“Nervous?” Simeon asks, and you scoff.

“As if.” It’s a half-lie. Maybe nervousness isn’t the right word. It’s more like… anticipation.

Simeon leads you through the back doors to the rink, and you look around, taking everything in. You’re assuming it’s open to the public when it’s not in use by the team and that theory is backed up by the presence of a skate rental sign pointing down another hall.

“You can hang out on the stands,” Simeon says, pointing like you don’t already see them. “I’ll tell everyone you’re here and they can do whatever they want with that info.” 

You sit near the rink, but not directly in the front row, and mess around on your phone for a few moments. You’re expecting people to approach you from the ice so when someone taps your shoulder, you jump, looking behind you.

“Sorry, sorry,” Diavolo says, holding out his hands in a peace gesture. His grin is easy and just as attractive as you remembered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You’re good,” you say. “I was just waiting for you to skate over to me, not walk.” 

“What I’m hearing is that you were waiting for me.” He does something with his eyebrows that comes off as insanely attractive and you wonder just how desperate you are. 

“Well, yeah,” you say. “I was promised a gift.” 

“That you were,” he agrees. “And I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a little longer for it. I left it in my car and since practice is starting so soon I totally don’t have time to go and get it. Darn.” 

“Is this your way of asking me out after practice?” 

“Well, it was my way of asking to give you a ride home, but hey, that works too,” he chuckles, eyes sparkling with some positive emotion you can’t quite pin down. “As long as Simeon won’t get mad. I know you’re close friends.” 

“Him?” You laugh. “He won’t be, first of all, because neither of us really cares what either gets up to romantically, and secondly, even if he was, it would be none of his damn business. I’m a grown woman with my own agenda and I’m glad he’s always recognized that. Even when we were younger,” you say with a sigh, “he’d let me get myself into all sorts of scrapes and situations, then just smugly tell me it was my own fault. Nothing serious, of course, but out of the two of us I’ve always been rasher and he definitely uses that for his entertainment.” 

“Seriously?” Diavolo questions. “He seems so kind and nice. I have a hard time believing that.” 

“That’s because he wants you to think that,” you tell him darkly, and the laugh you get in return is glorious, full-bellied and rich. 

Not noticing your sudden stupor, he sighs, catching his breath. “Well, I better get on the ice. Duties of being a captain and all of that.” 

“What, actually having to show up to practice and set a good example? So hard.” 

“You get it,” he says, and you shake your head, unable to stop your smile. 

“Watch me on the ice?” he asks, beginning to walk away backward. 

“Obviously,” you say, “but Diavolo…”

“Yeah?” he begins to reply, then trips over a bench, stumbling to the ground. 

“...there’s a bench behind you,” you finish, and the gobsmacked look on his face is one you endeavor to remember, pressing into your memories.

The boys waste no time getting into the swing of practice, though you receive a few looks and waves. Their drills are intense and difficult looking, but they make them seem easy. Watching them makes you yearn to get back on the ice, a feeling you haven’t had in a while. Maybe you should see what days the rink offers open skate and pull yours out of your closet. 

Watching them makes you feel oddly nostalgic. Both for the Chols and for the rec league with Simeon. You’d played hockey with him through school, quitting in college when he’d been scouted directly to the Chols. You’d been the forward to his right wing, and though you’d never had the same amount of sheer talent as him, you’d been no slouch.

But as time went on, you’ve been satisfied with just watching. Marveling at the feats the Chols were able to do on the ice, rather than rush to attempt them yourself as you might once have. 

You’d been on the ice with the Chols a few times, but after the first year, the novelty had worn off. You’d shifted to the stands after your engagement, sticking with the other girls, and again, while that had been fun, you’re realizing now that you truly, sincerely missed the feeling of skating. 

The coaches hardly pay you any attention, and while you’d thought that maybe your presence would have distracted the boys, they’re all business, showing you a much more serious side than you’d seen so far. Discounting that first game, of course. 

Before you know it, the practice is halfway over. It’s going by way too fast!

“Hey,” Simeon calls from the ice, grabbing your attention. “We’ve got a five-minute break. Come down here!”

You roll your eyes but stand, crossing the short distance to the edge of the rink. He’s out of breath and sweating, clearly working hard on the drills. 

“What do you think, huh?” he asks, putting a hand on the board. 

“Yeah, I want to know!” Mammon cries, skating over and almost running into Simeon. “Cooler and better and more awesomer than the Chols?” 

“‘Awesomer’ isn’t a word, dimwit,” Belphegor says, clearly listening in on the conversation, and you laugh. 

“Way awesomer than the Chols.” 

“Glad you think so,” Diavolo says from behind you, and you jump. Again. Man, he’s really got to stop doing that. Or maybe you need to be more attentive; you hadn’t even seen him get off the ice! He’s sweaty too, hair sticking down slightly on his forehead, but unlike with Simeon, you drink the sight in. God, this man gets more and more attractive every time you see him. “Did you see me out there?” 

Honestly, he was pretty much all you could look at. 

“Of course I did.” 

“Was it impressive?” 

Mindful of Simeon, Belphegor, and Mammon (whom Diavolo doesn’t even seem to care about), you choose your words with care. “Don’t fish for compliments.” 

He grins, opening his mouth to speak, but before he can, the coaches call everyone to the ice. 

“Stop your flirting, Captain!” Mammon cackles, and Diavolo sighs. 

“I barely even got to talk to you!” 

Your heart flutters. “Well, I’ll be here after practice…” 

“That you will,” he says dorkily, looking all too excited. How can this man go from unbelievably sexy to cute so quickly?

The rest of practice flies by, and when it’s called to an end, anticipation bubbles in your chest. Diavolo nods towards the shower, and you give him a thumbs up. Simeon shakes his head with a laugh, and you can’t help but flip him off. 

You pack your things slowly, or maybe it’s that Diavolo showers quickly, because he walks out of the locker room at the same time you approach it. And lord, if you’d thought sweaty Diavolo was attractive, then what was post-shower Diavolo? Off the fucking charts is what. His shirt, slightly damp, sticks to his chest in a way that makes you want to drool. 

 “Ready?” he asks, taking your laptop bag from you before you can protest. 

“Of course.” You gesture for him to lead the way. “I’m excited to see this jersey after hearing so much about it.” 

“And I’m excited to see you wear it,” he replies smoothly, and your cheeks heat up. 

“Sweet talker.” 

“Honest,” he corrects amusedly, holding the door for you as you exit the building into the parking lot.

His car is nice. Much nicer than Simeon’s well-loved and well-worn sedan, it’s sleek and expensive looking. Too bad you’re not much of a car girl, otherwise you’d definitely appreciate it more. You notice it’s also clean and smells good when you buckle in. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Diavolo says, sliding into his own seat. “Burned off a lot of calories at practice there.” 

“What about your meal plan?” you question, faux-innocently, and he raises his eyebrows. 

“What my trainer doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he replies, repeating your earlier words back to you. You can’t help but giggle. 

“Well, I’m hungry too, so I think lunch is a great idea,” you say. “I’m obviously new around here so I’ll let you choose. Now, I want to be impressed.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He starts up the car and smoothly exits the parking lot. “How about my favorite brunch place?” 

“Isn’t it a little late for brunch?” you ask, and he shrugs. 

“Eh, they serve brunch all day.” 

“That sounds good to me,” you say, and he grins. 

“Good, because it’s literally right down the road.” 

∙

Once you’re seated inside, Diavolo takes the menu from your hand and sets it aside. “You won’t need this,” he says. “Trust me.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know I was dining with an expert,” you joke. “Fine, I’ll trust you. But if you get me something I don’t like, get ready to pay the price.” 

“If it’s you—” he waggles his eyebrows devilishly “—I wouldn’t mind getting punished.” 

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts and images that had arisen from his words, and take a long sip of water. “So, um, what do you like to do?” 

“Play hockey.” 

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean, dipshit.” 

“Fine, fine. Let’s see… I enjoy running, especially at this park near my place. The sunrise is super pretty. And I spend a lot of time with Barbatos and Lucifer too.” 

“You do?” you ask, surprised. They were pretty close for a professional team but you hadn’t known it was that close. 

“Yep. Been friends with them forever. Barbatos, for as long as I can remember—I’m pretty sure our parents introduced us in the hospital—and Lucifer and I met at a camp years ago. It’s honestly pretty crazy we made it to the same team.” 

“Wow,” you say, remembering reading headlines of the unexpected draft pick for both of them, “that is crazy. I’m glad you guys are all so close.” 

“Well, most of us have been on the team for at least a season,” he replies. “I’m glad Simeon’s growing closer with us too. He seems like a really cool dude.” 

“He is,” you reply, “but don’t tell him I said so. He’d never let me live it down.” 

Diavolo winks, miming locking his mouth with a key. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

The waitress comes to take your orders then, and you leave it all to Diavolo. He gets the same dish for the both of you, promising it’ll be worth it.

“I hope so,” you say. “I’m kind of nervous. I’ve never heard of a dish called ‘Hotter Than Hot Toasted Sandwich’. It’s a good thing I like spicy food. What would you have done if I didn’t?” 

He looks sheepish then, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I asked Simeon just to be sure.” 

The thought put into it touches you, and you look down, then up at him through your lashes. “I see.” 

The conversation drifts, moving from one topic to another with ease. And that’s what things are with Diavolo. Easy. He’s kind and funny, attentive to your feelings, and seems to find you just as appealing as you find him. 

That is, if you’re reading the signs right, but honestly it’d be kind of hard to interpret his actions otherwise.

Your food arrives, and thankfully, it’s as delicious as he’d promised. You both finish eating at around the same time, and as if she’d been waiting, the waitress comes and drops off the check. Before you can move, Diavolo has his card out, a shiny black Amex, and sets it on the table. 

“I’m not going to argue,” you say with a laugh, and he smiles. 

“Good. I want to treat you.” 

“Careful,” you warn playfully, “or I might get used to it.” 

He leans forward, a little more serious. Those eyes burn into you, making you breathless even though he hasn’t said anything. “And what if that’s what I want?” 

You blink at his sudden bluntness. It’s almost hard for you to believe what you’re hearing. That a man like him is interested in a girl like you. Not that you’re not a catch, but damn, he’s out of this world. “Well,” you finally say, “I guess you’ll just have to keep taking me out to prove it.” 

“If that’s what it takes,” he says lowly, “then I’d be happy to provide. Let’s get out of here.” 

The waitress had apparently grabbed his card and returned it without you noticing, so when he stands, it takes you a second to follow. He leads you back to his car. 

“Do you need to get back to anything or can I steal you for longer?” he asks, and you consult your watch. 

“Unfortunately, I do have a work meeting in like an hour,” you reply reluctantly. “That's not enough time for us to really do anything.” 

He frowns. “That’s unfortunate. I wanted to show you around the Devildom since I figured you hadn’t had much time to explore.” 

“That’ll just have to wait until next time,” you say airily, and he shakes his head. 

“You really do know how to wrap me around your finger.” 

You give him the address to your apartment, and all too soon he’s pulling up outside of the building. 

“I had fun today,” you say earnestly. “Thanks for taking me out.” 

He reaches into his back seat and pulls a piece of fabric forward. The jersey, you realize, as he presses it into your hands. A smile blooms on your face. 

“I had fun today too,” he says. “And I better see you wearing that to the game tomorrow. That is, if you’re coming.” 

You unbuckle, throwing his door open. “Oh, I will be. Coming, that is. And wearing your number.” 

∙

The season continues. You wear Diavolo’s jersey to the games, cheering for the Dogs with wild abandon, and they continue to win. And win, and win, and win. 

(“It’s all thanks to Simeon,” Solomon faux-whispers to you at one celebratory post-game hang. “He’s way better at being my right than Asmo ever was.” 

“Rude!” Asmo returns, jostling into Solomon’s side. Everyone laughs, and you easily join in. These boys, they’ve become a part of you, like you’ve become a part of them.)

Off the ice, you and Diavolo grow closer. You get familiar with his life outside of hockey, staying overnight at his apartment here and there when you both have the time. You haven’t put a label on it, something Diavolo seems to sense you’re not ready for, as the ended engagement with Raphael is still a little fresh, but it’s clear to the both of you that this isn’t some passing fling.

Before you know it, months have passed, and it’s playoff season. The Dogs obviously make it, having a perfect season thus far, as do the Chols, who had a rocky start to the beginning of the season, probably due to the changed dynamics without Simeon, but quickly redeemed themselves to finish strong. 

(“We bring home the Calder Cup all of the time,” Belphie says with an eye roll. “How is this season any different?” 

Mammon grins slyly. “It’s different for our dear Captain. After all, he’s finally got someone he wants to win the cup for.” 

Diavolo’s hand, where it’s wrapped around yours, squeezes lightly.)

Diavolo offers to fly you out to the West Coast for the championship game, as somehow, the Chols made it into the final two. They never quite managed that when Simeon was on the team. You decline, not because you’re not going, but because you can fly yourself. 

The bonus from both teams’ championship jerseys is sitting nice and pretty in your account right now.

You’re a bit nervous on the plane. Not because of the flying, but at the thought of seeing the Chols. Especially since this wasn’t any old game, but the championship one. It’d be a hard loss, for whoever doesn’t make it, and though at this point, your loyalties lie entirely with the Dogs, you don’t want to make anyone on the old team feel betrayed.

It’d also be your first time seeing Raphael in a long time, and the thought makes you a little scared. But you’re also hopeful. Hopeful that you’ll get to see people who were once your world again without it being too awkward. 

Although, considering the rivalry between the teams you’re not sure how feasible that one is…

When you get off the plane, carry-on in tow, you text Diavolo that you’ve landed safely, not expecting his reply to come right away. 

Diavolo_14: I’m glad you made it 

Diavolo_14: Still not sure why you wouldn’t fly in with us though :((

MC: I told you, I had it covered. You can spoil me some other way, on a trip that’s unrelated to your games

Diavolo_14: Is that you saying you want to travel with me in the off-season? After all of this postseason stuff is completed?

MC: Yes but you already knew that.

Diavolo_14: I suppose I may have had an idea.

Diavolo_14: Anyway, don’t get in a taxi or anything, our hotel is within walking distance.

MC: I already had reservations somewhere else!

Diavolo_14: Reservations Simeon canceled

Diavolo_14: I was hoping it’d be a nice surprise but if you’re uncomfortable with it I can get your old room back. 

MC: It’s not bad, and I am surprised. I just don’t want to distract you before such an important game.

Diavolo_14: Pssshh, this game is nothing. And you’re never a distraction &lt;3

MC: Liar. 

MC: Remember when I made you late to practice last week?

Diavolo_14: Oh yeah. Anyway, if you’re really fine with it you’d be sharing with me

Diavolo_14: It’s got a jacuzzi tub………

MC: You spoil me. Yes I’m fine with it. 

MC: What’s the name of the hotel so I can walk there?

Diavolo_14: You should be able to see it if you go to the east entrance and look up.

MC: Oh, good, I’m near there. Hold on

Diavolo_14: Yeah just look up and over by the sign for the shuttle, then slightly to the left.

You do as he directs, eyes widening when instead of a hotel, you see a familiar head of red hair. He waves, and you cross the street in a hurry.

“Hey!” he greets, wrapping you in a hug. “You sure it was a good surprise? I was worried it’d be too much, but I really wanted you with me. If I went too far, seriously, tell me. I know we haven’t really talked about where we are but I really like you and it seems to be the same for you so I’d hoped it would be alright. Plus, Simeon said you’d like it. And yes, I’m totally throwing him under the bus right now in case you don’t,” he adds, trying to alleviate some of the seriousness.

You laugh. “I like it. And I like the idea of a jacuzzi tub. I’m all gross from the plane. And I do like you, a lot, so you have nothing to worry about there. It’s a sweet gesture.” 

Diavolo leans in to kiss you then, something you return, pleased. Though it’d only been a few days of separation, you’d found yourself really missing him. Almost too much, you worried.

Once you break apart, Diavolo takes your bag from you, slinging it over his shoulder, and you can’t help but smile up at him. You twine your fingers through his, relishing the feel of the west coast. Though it was winter, the balmy beach weather was much nicer than the frozen streets of the Devildom. And to think you once considered this weather cold. 

Diavolo and you mosey out of the airport and down the street, not in any particular hurry. When you do get into the lobby, you’re instantly greeted by half of the team, who’d apparently been stalking the two of you from the expansive windows. 

“You made it!” Asmo cheers, eyes sparkling. “Now we can really have some fun!” 

“Sorry, sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to be keeping MC all to myself for the time being,” Diavolo says, not sounding very apologetic. “We’ve got a date with the jacuzzi tub.” 

“We?” you say, giving him a look. “Who said anything about ‘we’? I said that I wanted a bath.” 

Simeon laughs, shaking his head, and you share a smile with him. 

“No, no, come on,” Diavolo begs theatrically. “Don’t deprive me. Of the wonderful jacuzzi jets, of course,” he adds hastily, seeing your unimpressed look. 

“You’d better be nice to him,” Lucifer warns you, in a tone you’ve only recently begun to recognize as his joking one. “I already gave up rooming with him for you, and I don’t need him complaining to me. Not when I now have to deal with rooming with these nitwits.” 

“Hey!” Mammon and Simeon protest. 

“It’s not like I said your names,” Lucifer says drily. 

“Yeah, but it was clear you were talking about us,” Mammon responds, and their squabbling fades into the background as Diavolo pulls you to the elevators, mashing the ‘Close Doors’ button before anyone else can get on. 

“You didn’t really mean that, did you?” he asks, turning to you. “You’re going to let me in the tub, right? If you don’t it might cause me to not play my best and lead to the Chols winning the cup tomorrow. You don’t want that, do you?” 

“Oh, we’re threatening now, are we?” you laugh, and he shakes his head. 

“Not threatening, just informing.” 

“I see,” you say. “Well, since I have a vested interest in seeing the Dogs take this game, I guess I’d better do anything that I can to ensure a win.” 

“Anything?” Diavolo asks, eyebrows waggling, and you give him a sly smile. 

“Anything.” 

∙

“Are you getting hungry?” Diavolo eventually asks, and you roll over to better face him. He looks like a dream, hair spread across the pillow, dark skin beautiful against the white sheets. “Lucifer just texted; apparently some of the Chols want to meet up at a bar, do a little pre-game catching up. They really want to see Simeon.” He hesitates. “But if you don’t want to do that, we can grab food somewhere else by ourselves.” 

“No, no,” you say quickly. “I’m not going to deprive the team of its captain. And, I have missed the boys. I’d love to see them. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Because of Raphael?” he asks gently. You’d filled him in on your past with the other hockey player, in bits and pieces, and Diavolo's been fully understanding, sharing his own stories of past love in return. You’d only grown closer through honesty, and you’re glad you’d been open with him, as now you don’t have to do any awkward explaining or suffer through any misunderstandings. 

“Some,” you admit honestly. “Well, mostly because of him. But I think it’ll just be weird to see them all. The Chols were my life at one point, you know, so it’s just going to be bittersweet. I do want to see them, though,” you add firmly, making up your mind, “so let’s go.” 

“Are you sure?” Diavolo reaches over, brushing across your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding. 

“I’m sure. Now, stop touching me, because I need to actually get out of this bed and get ready.” 

“You already look perfect,” Diavolo insists, and you bat his hand away, sitting up. 

“Flatterer,” you reply cheekily. “But I’m pretty sure you’re the only one I want to see me like this. So let me get ready, alright?”

“Fine, fine,” he says. “I guess I’ll shower. Unless you want to join?” 

“No!” you huff with a laugh. “Stop tempting me. And, we just took baths.” 

“Well, I need a shower if we’re going to leave this hotel room,” he says meaningfully, and though your cheeks heat a little, you remain strong. Seeing that, he sighs, then stands, heading for the bathroom, leaving the door open as he dramatically turns on the shower, sending you enticing looks over his shoulder as he does so.

Once he finally gets in, you pull yourself out of bed, moving over to your carry-on. Thankfully, you’d packed a couple of outfit choices, not knowing what to expect. Choosing the most suitable, something casual and yet attractive, you get dressed, then realize you’re going to need the bathroom to fix your hair and do your makeup. 

“I’m coming in,” you call, toiletry bag in hand. It only takes a second for his head to pop out from behind the shower curtain, excitement diminishing once he sees you’re dressed. 

“Oh,” he says. “I thought you meant into the shower. But I guess not.” 

“Stop it, you,” you say, turning on the sink to wash your face, and he laughs. 

You’re almost finished with your makeup when the shower turns off, Diavolo stepping out a moment later with the towel low on his hips. You studiously ignore him, applying mascara with more focus than necessary. He doesn’t let that slide, wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“You better not get me wet,” you warn, switching to your setting powder. 

“I won’t,” he says, and you turn your head slightly, giving him a look from the corner of your eye. His chin rests on your shoulder, and when you turn, your faces are mere inches apart. Diavolo hugs you tighter, kissing you, and you’re glad you haven’t applied lipstick yet. 

“Alright, alright, get off of me,” you say after a moment, a small smile crossing your lips. “Unless you want to have to take another shower.” 

“Cruel woman,” Diavolo bemoans, but does as you say, disappearing into the other room to get dressed. He returns a moment later, in dark jeans and a t-shirt, one that displays the Dogs’ logo. 

“You can’t be serious,” you say as he combs through his hair with his fingers. 

“What?” 

“Team merch, really?” 

He cracks an attractive smile, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Of course. I’ve gotta represent, you know.” 

You can only shake your head. 

As you’re putting on your shoes, there’s a knock on the door. Diavolo answers it, revealing Barbatos. 

“Oh, good, you’re both decent,” Barbatos says mildly, and you give him a glare. “We’re all headed downstairs.” 

“We’re ready,” Diavolo says and you stand, making sure you have your purse. You all walk down to the lobby, Diavolo’s hand in yours the whole way. 

“How are you feeling?” Simeon asks at one point, voice quiet.

“Nervous,” you reply honestly. “You?” 

“Nervous,” he echoes. “But I think it’ll be fine. I’m excited to see Raphael and the others again.” 

“I am too,” you agree. “It’ll be nice to catch up. Especially before we kick their asses tomorrow.” 

Simeon laughs. “I like the way you think.”

As you get closer to the bar where you’re all meeting up, you can’t deny that your hands get a little sweaty and your stomach starts to knot. You know the worst thing you'll find is a shit-ton of awkwardness (or at least that’s what you really hope), and that once you see it through it’ll ease, but you’re still not super keen on putting yourself in the situation. 

Ten minutes, you tell yourself, then things will be fine. Plus, you’ll have Diavolo and Simeon by your side and all the other boys to make distractions and break the ice. 

Diavolo squeezes your hand as you enter the bar, and immediately, your eyes find the familiar sight of Raphael’s ash-colored hair. You gulp; there’s no turning back now. 

“Hey!” Mammon calls out easily, and the boys turn. You recognize some others aside from Raphael, and thankfully a few have brought their wives, making it less awkward that you’re there and also giving you a breath of relief because you were familiar with them. 

Raphael’s eyes lock onto yours, then sharpen on you and Diavolo’s linked hands. There’s no animosity in them, just that same awkward cautiousness you feel, another relief. 

“Hey, come join us,” Raphael says, gesturing to the rest of the table. The bar staff, or maybe the Chols, had pushed a few tables together, making a monster table to fit the mishmash of people. You pull out a seat between Simeon—who’s across from Raphael—and Diavolo, who lets go of your hand as you sit. You smile at the girl across from you, not recognizing her. 

“Hi,” you greet the table at large, among various other greetings being given. “It’s nice to see you all again, and nice to meet you, those I haven’t met yet.” 

The girl across from you smiles at that, introducing herself as Thirteen, the main goalie’s sister. 

“So, uh, how goes the season?” Raphael asks Simeon awkwardly. “You miss us yet?” 

Simeon laughs. “Miss your snoring? Nah, not really. And the season’s going great, obviously. I’m glad you guys made it this far too, it’ll be fun to put you in your place.” 

“Starting the chirping already?” Diavolo asks him, throwing an arm across your shoulders. “Careful, Simeon, I think we’re outnumbered here.” 

“You’ve changed, Simeon,” Raphael says. “I think the Dogs are rubbing off on you. Anyway, MC, how have you been? Business going well?”

“Oh, yeah, your designs for this season are killer,” Thirteen adds before you can answer. “I mean, the font change for the Dogs’ numbers was such a good touch.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you laugh. “I’m surprised anyone picked up on that! It’s such a small detail but really impacts the overall vibe of the Jerseys.” 

Awareness dawns on Diavolo. “Wait. Are you talking about the team jerseys? As in, the jersey designs?” 

“Bingo,” you say slyly. “My job: designing jerseys for sports teams. Mostly hockey teams.” 

“I forgot you guys didn’t know,” Simeon says. “Yeah MC’s like, totally in charge of the jerseys. Remember the Veterans Day design? I helped with that.” 

“Barely,” you snort.

“You’re serious,” Diavolo mumbles. “How did I not know that?” 

You shrug. “Well, I didn’t mention it when we first met and it hasn’t really come up since. Anyway,” you turn back to Raphael, unable to hide your amused smile, “yeah, business is going well! Thanks for asking. How’s that knee been?” 

“Oh, you know,” Raphael shrugs. “I’ve been more careful this season since I don’t have someone to nurse me back to health.” His ears steadily turn red as he realizes what he just said, and you’re sure you’re no better. 

“Well,” you begin, but thankfully Simeon cuts in. 

“You were always lucky with that. Lately, MC just throws an ice pack at me. No sympathy, I swear!” 

“That’s because your injuries are all your fault,” you criticize. “Never stops when he should, this guy.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m getting something from the bar. Raphael, you want something?” 

They both head for the bar, and you sigh, slumping in your seat. Diavolo leans over to you, eyes concerned but also accusing. 

“I guess we’ll talk about the jersey thing later,” he says, quirking his lips slightly. “I’m sure the team will be very interested to hear. Who knows, maybe they’ll have some design input.” 

“Oh, god,” you say quickly. You hadn’t even considered that. “You’d better not tell them, I swear! I’ll kick your ass if you do.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” he assures you, laughing. “But seriously, I can’t believe I’ve never known that. Now I feel like a bad person for not knowing something so basic. And also kind of like an idiot. I guess I just thought you were acquainted with the upper staff through me when it was really through your own work. Self-centered, much?” 

“Really, Diavolo, it’s fine,” you assure him. “I was aware you didn’t know, even taking care to avoid bringing it up at the beginning. Now you do know, so you can stop feeling bad about it. And I’m sorry if you feel betrayed, that wasn’t my intention.” 

“No, no,” he hastens. “It just reminds me how much I still have to learn about you.” 

“Well, there’s lots and lots of time for that,” you reply, and he smiles, something in his eyes easing. You really hadn’t intended to hurt him with this and now just feel like an asshole. “And I have so much to learn about you, too. But I’m looking forward to it.” 

Realizing how rude you’re being to Thirteen, perhaps at the same time, you and Diavolo turn back to her. So lost in your own world, you hadn’t realized Solomon had taken Raphael’s empty seat, now engaged in some fiery debate. 

“Let’s stay out of that one,” Diavolo murmurs to you, as Solomon starts using four-syllable words he only pulls out when he’s trying to academically shame someone, and you nod. 

Instead, you and Diavolo split up, talking to various people around the room. It’s nice for you to check in on the Chols’ players and their wives and partners, and they seem just as happy to see you. Any worries of tension (to you or to Simeon) disappear quickly, and you find yourself interacting with them just like you used to. One look at Simeon shows he’s faring well, surrounded by teammates old and new. 

Warmth expands in your heart and you grab another drink from the bar, just happy to be with the people you love and care for.

(Your eyes find Diavolo as you think that, and though you don’t particularly care to dig into the sentiment, you find yourself comfortable with it all the same.)

Raphael finds you, eventually, offering another beer as a peace offering. You take it, looking at the man you used to love so dearly. You still love him, but only as a friend. Something settles in your chest at the confirmation of what you’d been suspecting: any lingering feelings for him have fully dissipated and you’re ready to move on. Fully.

He seems to realize this, and you suspect that he feels much the same way. The memories between you will hold a special place in your heart forever, sometimes even hurt, but you don’t regret the time you’ve spent with him. You only regret that you hadn’t met Diavolo sooner. 

“You’ve got yourself a real catch,” he says, a little sleepily in the way you know to mean he’s slightly inebriated. Not too much, of course, but socially, as are most of the players. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” 

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m glad, you’re doing well too, Raphael. Congrats again on making it this far this season. Your playing has been incredible.” 

“You’ve been watching?” 

You sigh softly. “How could I not? Especially at the beginning of the season, when all I was doing was missing you. Guys. You guys. The Dogs are great, of course, but I can’t lie. They were a little intimidating at the beginning.” 

He laughs. “You should see them on the ice.” 

“Oh, I can imagine.” 

A silence, soft and fragile like an early spring day falls between you two, and you give him one more smile. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.” 

“I won’t,” he promises, and you both exchange one more look, laying it all to rest, before you float off to find Diavolo, who’s conversing with Lucifer and one of the rookies from the Chols.

“Everything alright?” he asks, pulling you into his side, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into him. “Everything’s alright.” 

∙

Excitement bubbles through your veins as you take your seat, one similar in position to the one you have at the Dogs’ home rink, basically on the ice and near the team box. The only difference is that you’re on the away side instead of the home, allowing you to continue to sit near the Dogs.  

As a personal guest of the Captain, you’d been offered a plush VIP box but had declined, preferring to get down and dirty in the thick of things as you always had. 

Diavolo’s name sits proudly across your shoulders—his real jersey, not a replica sold to fans—and you inhale the spicy scent of his cologne (yeah, you’d asked to borrow it to spray on the jersey, so what), reveling in the electric feeling filling the arena. Though many of the fans are in the white and light blue of the Celestial City Chols, quite a fair amount of black and red can be seen throughout the crowd, showing the many diehard fans who’d made the trip across the country. The only similarities between the teams’ color schemes are the gold accents, glittering and shining under the harsh overhead lighting. 

Everyone is excited for this game. Not only is it the last deciding game in the finals, the one that will determine who will take the freaking Calder Cup home, but it’s also between two rival teams. Two rival teams that are both determined to work themselves to the bone, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into winning (though not all of it their own, knowing the Dogs). It’s going to be a game that’ll go down in AHL history.

The minutes tick by and finally both teams take the ice for warm-up. The boys wave and smile, Mammon taking care to be an ass and send a puck right towards your face, as has become his pre-game ritual, but you really only have eyes for Diavolo.

Diavolo, who looks hot as hell in your championship jerseys (white, with red, gold, and black accents), who blows you a kiss as best he can around his mouthguard, who looks like he’s ready to lead his team to a very satisfying and devastating victory.

You would swoon but instead settle for yelling and screaming just as loud as the rest of the arena. 

After the starting lineup is announced, with much more pomp and circumstance than the other games, and the national anthem is finished, you sit on the edge of the seat, watching as the ceremonial puck is dropped. It’s very nice and all, but you’re ready for the game to begin.

After what feels like forever, it finally does, and you watch as Raphael and Simeon face one another, kitty-corner. It’s surreal, after so many seasons of watching them play the same line. Diavolo and Lucifer aren’t far behind the forwards, and every member of both teams is completely and utterly focused on the puck.

The arena is so silent you could hear a pin drop as the music fades, and in a clatter of skates and sticks on ice, the puck is dropped. The Chols gain possession, the center sending the puck back to the left d-man, who sends it to the left winger smoothly. The Dogs don’t take that lying down, and chase after the puck. Levi gets there first, and manages to take the puck, passing it to Solomon, who forges a blazing trail down the ice. Amidst the various cheering and booing, you think, perhaps delusionally, you can make out Thirteen’s unique tone, screaming out her displeasure. 

The Chols d-men are frustratingly persistent, and what follows is several minutes of back and forth, with both teams failing to make a goal. Shots are attempted by both sides, but are all blocked by the goalie or intercepted by other team members, and when Beel finally gets the puck in his glove, you let out a sigh of relief that they’re all able to take a break. You watch as the players all assemble for an end zone face-off, one that the Dogs win. Both teams are playing viscous and dirty, with checks rattling the boards all around. 

“Get it out of there!” you scream, as yet another attempted goal shot is made, and as if they hear you, the forward line, which is now Mammon, Asmo, and Satan, push back towards the Chols’ goal. A brief scuffle near the defending line takes place, and the ref whistles, calling offsides on the Chols. 

The first period passes without any goals, despite both teams' desperate pushing. Though neither side scores, you know it’ll only be a matter of time in the second, as the Dogs have been gaining momentum as the night goes on. 

You whistle at the boys as they make their way from the bench to the locker room and Diavolo grins up at you, pulling off his helmet. He’s sweaty and out of breath, but handsome as all get out, and you’ve never been prouder to be bearing his name on your back. 

When the teams finally return after the break, you’re back on your feet, cheering as they take the ice. The Dogs gain possession of the puck in the first face-off, heading the opposite way than they had been previously due to the goal switch, unstoppable. Asmo, who has the puck, leaves the other team in the dust, zipping through and shooting in the blink of an eye. It goes in, as you’d hoped, prayed, suspected, and the roar of the crowd is thunderous. You can’t help but imagine what it’d be like in your home arena, in your home city. 

And it's odd. Sometime, over the course of the season, the Devildom had truly become your home. It’s not a shocking thing, by any means, but serves to make you cheer that much louder and clap that much harder. 

With a goal under their belts, the Dogs have a new fire lit beneath them. But the Chols aren’t giving up easily, and once Raphael checks Simeon hard across the boards in front of you. He’s a fearsome one when it comes to that, known even during his rookie days for his painfully-placed and technically legal elbow placements, and you wonder if the smile that had been shot your way was purposeful. Simeon skates it off impressively, though you know he’ll be aching later.

Diavolo does a great job staying on top of defense, and you’re aware of that same ease between him and Lucifer that you’d picked up on during their very first game together. You’d gotten to know Lucifer well during the season, and you make a mental note to yourself to take extra care when making his ‘good job on winning the Cup’ basket, to thank him for being such a great friend and partner to Diavolo.

When the two of them go back to the bench, switched out by Barbatos and Belphie, Diavolo waves at you in between great big gulps of water, and you make sure to take lots of pictures when you can tear your eyes from the game. 

The CC Chols score as well during the second period, tying them up as they go into the third. Though you’d think they’d all be quite tired, neither team is flagging, both playing and pushing hard. The Chols get another goal in, unfortunately, when Beel’s just a tad too slow, and you’re once again aware you’re in the fan minority as the crowd goes wild. 

They stay in the lead for several heart-pounding minutes, and apparently fed up with the tension, Mammon drops gloves, firecracker personality on full display. He gets the Chol player into a headlock, raining punches down onto him until he’s pulled off by the refs, much to the crowd’s disappointment. That gets him a few minutes in the sin bin, and you groan, knowing what a disadvantage the Dogs are at. The last thing they need is to be two down in the final period!

Diavolo rallies the team, showing his incredible skill and prowess as a captain, and thankfully, the Chols are unable to use the power play to their advantage, and Mammon skates back onto the ice like a hellcat.

Gameplay is stopped again after elbowing is called towards a Chols player, and you cheer as he gets some time in the box. Unlike the Chols, the Dogs score on their play, tying it all back up. Satan manages to scare and gets piled on by the team, and for once, he’s not pushing them back, a rare smile lighting up his face.

The end of the period draws nearer and nearer, and yet neither team pulls ahead. Anxiety and excitement are racing through you, and you continue to scream out your support, even as your voice grows hoarse.

Will this game go into overtime? That almost never happens in a finals game like this!

But as you resign yourself to the possibility, Simeon takes possession of the puck, passing it to Solomon, who goes to take a shot, and upon realizing he doesn't have a clear one, gives it right back. Simeon doesn’t hesitate, finely honed instincts taking over, and delivers it into the net with only a few minutes left of play. You scream, cheering as loud as you can, and the celly that follows is almost disrespectful, lasting a bit too long. 

Though the Chols don’t give up, they're unable to get another point before the buzzer sounds, and you can hardly believe it. The Dogs won! Your team won the fucking Calder Cup!

The boys celebrate in the ice, hefting Simeon up and onto their shoulders and Diavolo takes the cup and delivers it right into his waiting gloves. Simeon hefts it, grinning and crying, and you feel yourself crying too, unable to believe how far he’s gotten, the monumental feat he’d just completed. 

Diavolo’s eyes find yours, and hastily, he skates for the bench, fitting on his skate guards sloppily. As if he expected it, the door attendant pulls open the door to the dating section, still blocked by the metal gate, and you reach for him through the bars, glad they’re wide enough for you to pull him close by the pads and kiss him long and hard. Fans around you boo and scream, but you’re lost in your own world, lost in him. 

“I love you,” Diavolo says as he pulls away, breathing heavily. He’s crying too, but his smile is ear-to-ear, and you pull him in again, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, nose, and forehead, overwhelmed by your joy. 

“I love you too,” you say, and finally, someone opens the gate between you, and Diavolo lifts you up into a hug, kissing you again. You hear camera shutters and see flashbulbs go off and have no doubt your image will be all over articles and social media posts by tomorrow, but can’t bring yourself to care. Eventually, Simeon joins you, and you break from Diavolo to hug him tightly, both of you breaking down fully into sobs.

Diavolo lets you have your moment with your best friend, but Simeon’s soon stolen away by members of the team and you’re all shepherded out of the stands and off the ice so the boys can do their post-game photos and interviews and the like. Diavolo hesitates to pull away, but you shove him along, smiling. 

“Go,” you say. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.” 

“I love you,” he says again, a little helplessly. 

“I know.” 

How did you get so lucky, with this man, this team, this life? You watch the boys, heart bursting, and can’t wait to support them for their next season as well.

Although, not before you and Diavolo do everything you want during the offseason, including traveling and exploring, putting some of both of your accumulated wealth to good use. You’ve heard the Maldives are pretty this time of year, and nice and relaxing for Diavolo to recover. And private, you think with relish. The hotel you pick will be private. Very, very private. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[valorant-drabbles]

The iso x reader is really good! Alas, a part 3 would be great where they confess or reader's feelings get outed by either yoru or phoenix and gets teased about when reader will tell Iso but he already knows and reciprocates and just wants to hear it directly from them

The long awaited Part 3 of the Iso Saga!

Consider this my belated Christmas Present to all you Iso-Lovers!

~

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Mild Swearing

Gender-Neutral Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Cold Shoulder

Reader x Iso

It had been a fair few months since Iso had officially joined the Protocol, and the two of you were nearly inseparable. Whenever being sent on a mission, if there was a free spot on a team, you'd always try to find excuses to bring the each other along if one was going without the other. To the point that Brimstone had to pull you each aside and gently scold you. You simply can't be on every mission together. What matters is the skillset that is put into each team, not the person specifically.

It was a tad embarrassing being called out by Brimstone like that, and overtime, it was made clear that he wasn't the only one aware of how close you two were. How you and Iso were rarely seen without the other by their side, never too far if they weren't in view. It was almost instinctual, to be nearby.

Far too soon, a few of the other agents started picking up on certain hints that went over even your head, though you saw yourself as rather... aware of how others felt about you, especially after spending however long by their side. For instance, you knew Yoru often had an ego to show off, and acted like he didn't give a shit about anybody; but he would have your back if you were in danger, without a doubt. He'd warp to your side without a second thought. No matter how many times he'd deny it, he'd claim it was a coincidence.

So you were confident that if somebody's feelings towards you changed, you'd catch it. Or, if your own feelings had changed from platonic to... something more.

Boy, were you ever wrong.

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

Sage had stopped by your room to visit, bringing some freshly brewed herbal tea alongside a small plate of biscuits. She'd made a habit of making sure every agent was alright mentally, providing a safe space to vent or talk about feelings without judgement. She felt quite responsible for both the physical state of everyone, as well as their mental state. To put it simply, she was acting as the Protocol's therapist. And she was damn good at it.

Opening your door, you stepped aside to allow Sage entrance to your room. She'd already alerted you of your monthly checkup that day, so you'd made sure to tidy your bedroom as best as possible. She had always given off motherly vibes, so the last thing you wanted was for her to see a messy room on one of the few times she visits.

Sitting down on the floor, Sage sets up her favourite tea set on the short table by your bed, and begins to pour two cups of herbal tea. The tea set was painted with vines and flowers, giving off some Skye vibes. Perhaps it was a gift from her?

You sit yourself across from Sage, sitting on your legs comfortably as you reach for one of the cups, perhaps adding a little sugar to the warm liquid before settling into a more... relaxed mindset.

"So." Sage had started, hands wrapped delicately around her own teacup. "I see you and Iso have been progressing very well over the last few months, mm?"

You gave a simple nod. "In combat, we triumph over our opponents with ease. We have a good system going."

"That's wonderful to hear!... although not quite what I meant." She chuckled softly to herself, a warm smile on her face contradicting the confused look you'd given her.

"You've been getting to know Iso on a more personal level, more so than anybody. Which is a little strange, admittedly. Ever since you joined the Protocol, you usually kept to yourself and didn't make many connections with other agents. So I'm very relieved to know you've found somebody in which you can rely on-"

"Hold on." You pipe up to interrupt, eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. "What are you talking about? Yeah, I spend some time with Iso, but I wouldn't say we're on a personal level. That makes it sound like we're friends." Or more, your thoughts added, but you are swift to dismiss the thought as quickly as it arrived.

Sage took a slow sip of her drink as she let the following silence linger amongst the room, deciding to let it sink in naturally.

Her silence made something click in your head.

"We're friends."

"Mhm." Sage confirmed. "A bit more than that, perhaps. Some of us can't help but notice how rosy your cheeks get when Iso stands a little too close to you. How you two are rarely ever seen apart. And how, aside from me, He is the only one you allow in your room; your safe haven."

Your gaze slowly drops to look at the tea in your cup, seeing your reflection in the mildly rippling liquid, caused by the mild shake of your hands. You'd never really thought you had social habits, and yet... apparently they were blaringly obvious. Giving away hints to something you didn't understand yourself. "What... what does this mean?" You ask slowly, with eyes timidly flicking back up to meet Sage's calming, blue gaze. What she said next hit you like a wall of bricks.

"I believe you are in love, Y/N."

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

Love. Sage told you that you may be in love. It made you shudder. Far too soft of a word. How were you supposed to keep up your reputation amongst your team members? They might all see you as some... lovesick fool! You hated the thought of it. What were you meant to do now...? Well, Sage had advised you to take some time to think about what she'd said, and to get in touch with your feelings. Figure out how you really feel for Iso, and if it dips into being 'love' or not.

After all, Sage didn't know everything. She simply had her theories. Though she did coach you through some ways to self-reflect. Though it did feel somewhat pointless, you indulged her idea, and spent the next few days carefully doing some serious reflection on your feelings and interactions with Iso as of late. And the more you thought on Sage's words, the more that everything kind of... made sense.

You undeniably had feelings for Iso. The two of you working so harmoniously together, and how close you were outside of missions... the way you felt an odd, fluttering feelings in your stomach. The way your cheeks heat up when he casually rests his elbow on your shoulder... these previously unexplainable feelings, suddenly making sense. Clicking together like puzzle pieces.

Step one was complete, you supposed. You were aware of your feelings... now what? What were you meant to do with these feelings now? Surely not... expressing them to Iso?

The mere thought shot a bone-cold chill down your spine. No way were you ready to do anything of the sort.

"Just... act like normal." You coached yourself in the hallway, rubbing your face in an attempt to pull yourself together. "You like Iso, so what? That won't change anything- it shouldn't. I'm sure if you just... keep acting like normal, these ridiculous feelings will eventually go away..."

"Oh, that is rich."

The sudden voice nearly caused you to draw your pistol, if it weren't for your immediate reflex to look before shooting. What a relief, you nearly put a bullet into... the wall?

The next second, you see Yoru casually step out of his portal, removing his oni-styled mask with a faint smirk on his face.

"Yoru, what have I said about spying on me?" You scolded him with a narrowing glare, subconsciously gripping the front of your shirt. The bastard had made it a personal challenge to try and scare you when you were on your own- many times having been stopped by Iso a lot of the time. Iso's reflexes were often very helpful in catching Yoru before he had the chance to startle you. Besides, he seldom actually scared you.

"I wasn't spying about you. I was just trying to get to my room without bumping into anybody, and what happens? I find out some very interesting information..." A wide smirk grew across his face, as the realization quickly dawned on you.

"Listen, you didn't hear anything, got it?" Your voice pitched higher in a mild form of panic, which simply made Yoru's grin grow wider. "Damn. You're down bad, eh?"

Gritting your teeth, you storm closer to the man, preparing to grab him, and give him a thorough threatening- only for Yoru to warp out of your vicinity, a fair few feet away; arms crossed in a taunting way. "Phoenix is gonna get a kick 'outta this. Iso as well, I bet..." He cackled softly to himself, as he casually took a step backwards and fell into another portal, vanishing completely from the hallway.

Frozen in place, your mind had to slowly catch up to the moment of what had just happened. Yoru surely wouldn't spill such a serious secret just for the hell of it... right? Right?

You couldn't trust Yoru to keep his mouth shut. He was going to tell somebody- possibly even Iso if he felt like that much of an asshole. So, with quick steps, you ran towards the commons room, desperately in search of the masked bastard who was about to expose your most precious secret.

After searching what felt like half the headquarters building, you finally managed to find him. He was leaning against the kitchen counter casually, talking to the two people he'd threatened to tell. Phoenix; who wouldn't keep his mouth shut to keep a secret to save his life... and Iso.

By chance, Yoru happened to glance in your direction, keeping his usual smirk on his face as he kept the two men's attention on himself.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I wouldn't have figured if I hadn't been there. Y/N has always been so cold..." Yoru continued to speak as if you weren't there, only making your blood boil faster than before.

"''Ey, I wouldn't say that. They just... like to keep to themselves! Like Omen!... Probably!" Phoenix chimed in to defend you, which would've made you feel a bit better if you weren't on the verge of throwing a chair at Yoru.

"Still, you really heard them say that?" The British man raised a suspicious eyebrow towards Yoru, who simply nodded. "Why would I lie about something like this? It's hilarious."

Finally, Iso seemed to have enough. He made a point to slam down his soda bottle, with his eyes firing daggers in Yoru's direction, causing the other to stiffen ever to slightly, shoulders squared subtly in a sense of defense.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't care for your pointless gossip? How old are you, twelve? You truly think I would take your word as fact; especially with such a delicate subject? You truly have no shame, do you?" His voice was as cold as his gaze was, slicing through the thick, tension-filled air that had consumed the room the second the line was crossed.

Yoru struggled to find any kind of defense or escape from the conversation, his gaze quickly moving from you, back to Iso. "H... hah, as if I give a shit what you think. Don't act like you're above all this. Aren't you curious over what Y/N really thinks about you? Behind that cold exterior they put up all the time?"

"They only put it up around people they can't trust, like you. Besides, even if I were to trust your word, I'd rather hear it from Y/N themself." Iso retorted, as he plucked up his soda bottle, making his way back to his room, by the look of it. You felt yourself relax. Thank god; he didn't believe Yoru... and with that scolding Yoru got, you doubted he'd be running his mouth and telling anyone else for awhile, if he knew what was good for him.

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

The next few days came and went. And you were pacing your room, twirling a knife between your fingers as you tried your best to think of how you wanted to progress with the knowledge of your feelings being... somewhat out there. Iso was aware now that it was a possibility, so... what were you meant to do now?

Sage had been there to hear you out when you needed to vent about Yoru's little 'stunt', and promised that he'd be held accountable for his gossiping behavior. All the agents were teammates, so any actions taken to potentially degrade everyone's teamwork would be dealt with and punished accordingly.

She had also assured you that there was absolutely no pressure to confess, even if Iso does know your feelings. Who knows, perhaps this was a one-time crush, and it would go away?

Well, it had already been about a week since you initially found out about these feelings, and they hadn't exactly gotten weaker. In fact, it seemed almost as if they grew stronger by each passing day you spent by Iso's side.

Sage had coached you further, to ask yourself some questions before you made any decisions that may affect you and Iso both. Take a deep breath, collect your thoughts, and ask yourself; Do you truly like Iso romantically?

Looking back on all your adventures and quiet moments with one another... how could you possibly say you didn't? Iso was somebody you felt like you could be honest with. Any chaotic feelings you might have in a single moment can be seemingly vanquished by him simply... being there. Even if you two don't talk to each other, the amount of comfort his presence alone was able to give you was something you felt like you couldn't find anywhere else. And if that wasn't an important staple in a romantic relationship... well, then maybe you were as much of a loner than Yoru had suggested.

But none of that mattered now. You felt oddly confident in your feelings, and now, knowing they were real by your own decision... it felt like you could confess to Iso. It was a bizarre experience; you'd been terrified of the idea of love and romance up until a few days ago. And now... you were actually contemplating a committed relationship with Iso? The thought still made your cheeks warm up with blush. The idea was... nice; welcomed, even.

Now it was just a matter of... figuring out how to actually confess.

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

The day of confessing came a lot faster than you'd expected.

You were often the type to plan things out ahead of time. Pick a day to confess, maybe write a few scripts for yourself so you had options of what to say when the time came... and inevitably hope it would go well. And yet... though you thought you were accounting for every possibility;

When the day came, it was... unexpected, to say the least.

You and Iso were in your room, quietly doing your own things, as the two of you usually do. And yet... today it felt different. It felt like an awkward silence that wouldn't end, no matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation. The awkward air was indestructible, it felt like.

How were you meant to start an important talk when things are like this?

"So... I heard that Yoru got in trouble with Sage the other day." Iso suddenly spoke up, which very nearly startled you off the bed; but in a firm attempt to act like everything was normal, you stayed in place. You inhaled quietly. You got this.

"Yeah..." You started awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck, struggling to do so much as making eye contact with the other. "I... I thought I heard some arguing in the kitchen awhile back. Guess she dealt with whoever started it." Deciding to play the oblivious card, apparently. Though... did this count as lying? You weren't sure. You just hoped it wouldn't backfire on you in the long run.

"She certainly did deal with the perpetrator." He'd nodded slowly in response, his gaze moving towards you without your knowledge. "... you know, Yoru is pretty terrible at hiding when he's doing something mischievous at the cost of others. That being said; I saw you eavesdropping on us the other day." Iso couldn't hide the slight smile that grew on his face when your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "... I mean, he kept looking in your direction and everything. It was clear someone was there."

You just wanted the ground below you to open up and swallow you whole. So lying was pointless, huh. And Iso knew you were acting off for a reason now. Shit.

"Well... whatever. It makes this whole thing easier then, I guess." You mutter dismissively, keeping your gaze away from Iso's at any cost. Though you couldn't help but be mildly curious to what Iso was looking like in that particular moment. Was he as flustered as you felt? By the knowing tone in his voice, you assumed not.

"Not quite. You know I don't listen to petty gossip." Iso responded rather dryly, raising an eyebrow at you. "And if you were there to hear what he said, then surely you know what my question is going to be."

You just wanted to flee, or hide under your bed. God, this felt humiliating... though maybe it was just because you weren't used to being so emotionally vulnerable. Every word he spoke just felt extra dangerous.

“I hardly heard the whole conversation. I kind of just… turned the corner and saw you three. Besides, you obviously know what Yoru said. Do you really need me to say anything?” You asked hesitantly, your own logic seeming to make less sense by the second; and making you dug yourself deeper into a hole.

You feel Iso place his hand gently on top of your’s. The sudden contact was finally enough to make you turn to look at him, your cheeks not any less red than they already had been. Iso gave a small, reassuring smile to you.

“Yes. Because if it’s true, I want to hear it from you, Y/N. But… only if you want to say it.”

His voice was so… comforting. Holding no judgement nor expectation. He wasn’t going to make you confess that very moment if you weren’t ready; but it was clear he knew your feelings regardless. So… what were you meant to do now? If you put it off for another day, who knows how long it’d take you to get around to confessing.

Your nervous gaze moved to look at your hands, feeling your heart rate pick up by the second. This… this was it. Now or never, you decided. Iso deserved a proper answer.

“I… I have… feelings for you. Sage believes they are… romantic feelings. And I think I agree.” You speak softly, so quietly that if the room hadn’t already been silent, he may not have heard you. You swallow the nervous lump you felt in your throat. “I… do really like you, Iso. And… I’m sorry you had to find out from Yoru first of all people…”

Before you could even think about rambling further with some inane apologies, Iso’s hand had moved to rest on your cheek before you’d realized. It all happened so fast, and yet… ever so slowly, at the same time…

Iso had slowly brought your face closer to his, pausing when you two were mere inches away from each other. He didn’t move further, wanting you to initiate further if this was something you wanted. He truly wasn’t the type to force anything onto anyone…

It admittedly took you a few seconds to realize what he was waiting for… a… a kiss? The thought seemed overwhelming at first- you’d just confessed, and now he was offering to kiss you? Was that his way of saying he felt the same?

Your heart had never beat as fast as it did in that moment. Sure, you were new to the whole… romantic-feelings thing… and by all accounts, you’d probably reject the offer in any other situation… and yet…

In those few lingering moments, with his lips so close to your’s… you couldn’t turn away. Taking all the courage you had within you, you leant forward and gently pressed your lips to Iso’s; though it was a little awkward at first, with your lack of experience.

The kiss merely lasted a few seconds before you’d pulled back, face feeling as red as a cherry. You found it hard to make direct eye contact with Iso for a few moments, before you heard him chuckle slightly.

“For someone who used to be so intimidating… you sure are adorable whenever you’re embarrassed.” He’d hummed innocently. You shot a glare in his direction and punched his arm relatively hard, earning a more genuine laugh from the man.

“I’m sorry- it’s true!” Iso snickered softly as he scooted a bit closer to you, keeping your hands intertwined ever so gently. You’d barely noticed you two had been holding hands for a short while already. “So… was my answer sufficient enough for you, Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow curiously to you, giving you a moment to pause and think.

“Mm… No. I don’t think your answer was clear enough.” You responded, rather deadpan. This gave Iso a genuine feeling of confusion, as you turned towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, your face still rather red.

“Perhaps you should give me your answer again… and again.”

The two of you spent the remainder of the evening in each other’s company.

Sage may have had to heal a bruised lip or two the following morning.

[darnell-la]

pairing: dark!stepbro Rafe Cameron x reader

Warning: if you do not like anything to do with assault, do not read this book!

WE DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY COPIES IF OUR BOOKS!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

“Where’s mom and dad?” Y/n asked Rafe after coming out of her room to the music blasting downstairs and people shouting and talking. “Gone for the weekend,” Rafe said, standing in front of y/n. She could tell he had more to say.

“Sarah?” She asked. “Out with her Pogue friends,” he said, making y/n feel away. She’s always hated the way he treated other people under him. Even her.

“Okay, well, I’ll get dressed and come down soon,” y/n said about to turn around but Rafe spoke. “No, this isn’t your party. It’s just at the house you stay at. You’re staying up here,” Rafe said, sounding very serious like he’s her father.

“Rafe, I can come downstairs if I want to. I’m old enough and I’ll snitch,” she said. “So that shit, and see what happens,” Rafe got close to y/n’s face. “You’re not even blood family. You think he’ll believe you anyways?” He genuinely asked.

“Whatever,” y/n said as she went into her room. She went to shut her door but he pushed it open because he wasn’t done talking. “Stay up here. If I see you downstairs, you’ll regret it, do you understand?” He asked.

“Whatever, Rafe,” y/n walked to her bed and sat down. “That’s what I thought,” the buzz-cut man said before slamming her door shut, almost breaking the hinges. He has no respect for her, yet wants her to respect him.

Y/n laughed to herself, knowing she’d show up downstairs in a couple of hours once he was outside relaxing and smoking with his friends.

She goes down to have a few drinks or so, maybe smoke but she won’t touch any coke. She’s not into things like that and never will be.

It’s been a good two hours, and y/n slowly got ready. She did light makeup picked a nice tight dress and slipped on her platform heels she had bought a while ago.

“Didn’t Rafe tell you not to come downstairs?” A familiar voice spoke behind y/n. The tipsy girl turned around slowly, stumbling a little at that. She started by looking at the man’s feet, seeing his expensive shoes.

Y/n trailed her eyes upwards, checking the boy's outfit out before finally getting to his face. “Hey Top,” the girl said. Topped licked his lips at the nickname she gave as she focused on his face.

“You know, he’ll kill you if he sees you down here,” Topper said, making y/n roll her eyes. “He doesn’t own me,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but everyone knows how serious Rafe is about his things. There’s no other reason for him to not let you down here,” Topper tried giving Y/n a message, but she wasn’t getting it.

“I don’t care,” y/m shrugged whatever Topper said before grabbing a bottle of alcohol and pouring it into her empty cup. “You’re not gonna mix that, princess?” Topper asked.

“I don’t mix,” the girl said before she chugged her drink. “You’re a bad one, aren’t you?” Topper asked, feeling like the step Cameron is just like the rest of the kids. Not all perfect.

“Just a normal girl,” she said as Topper got closer, now towering over her figure, making the girl feel way smaller than she actually was. “I’ve always said you were pretty. You’ve only been here for a few months and I feel things I’ve never felt before,” Topper slowly grabbed y/n’s waist.

“Oh,” she giggled as she turned so her back was up against the counter. Topper’s body pushed up against the smaller girl as he checked her whole figure out. “He’s gonna kill me,” Topper said right before he smashed his lips into y/n’s.

Y/n was initially shocked but gave in, knowing she wouldn’t go further. A kiss isn’t so bad, right? And plus, Topper is hot and from what she can see, a damn good kisser.

“Where the fuck is he!?” You could hear Rafe yell through the party. It took a few seconds for Topper to realize who it was. Someone had seen Topper and his actions and ran to tell Rafe.

“Here he comes,” Topper smirked at y/n, not caring if Rafe yelled at him tonight. He had to risk it and take advantage of y/n in this moment.

“What the fuck did you do with her!?” Rafe had approached the two and grabbed Topper, pulling him away from y/n by the front color of his expensive golf shirt.

“Nothing we all wouldn’t do, bro,” Topper said trying to keep a smart look back because he knew, Rafe would punch him right here and there and he couldn’t sue his best friend.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her again. I already told you about that shit,” Rafe slightly spat on the boy. Topper has never seen Rafe this angry. “If I see you anywhere close to her again, I’ll drag you under the stomach of my boat until your lungs fill with water,” Rafe threatened before pushing him off.

“What’s up with you?” Y/n giggled as Rafe walked up to her. He kept his mouth shut and grabbed y/n’s arm, pulling her through the ground. If he spoke a word to her, everyone would know what kind of man he was.

“Ow, Rafe!” Y/n felt her wrist ache as he pulled her upstairs against her will. “Rafe, stop! I’m upstairs now. I won’t go back down-“ y/n spoke but got cut off by Rafe’s hand wrapping around her throat quicker than she could have imagined.

“You shut the fuck up! I gave you a chance, but you brought your ass downstairs and opened your slut legs right open for my best friend,” Rafe face began to turn red. “I didn’t open my legs, Rafe,” Y/n said, a bit hurt by what he called her.

“Oh, really? So this right here isn’t opening your legs?” Rafe asked as he began grinding on y/n. “Rafe, stop,” y/n tried pushing Rafe back by his stomach but he kept grinding as he tightened his grip on her neck.

“No, no, this isn’t opening your legs, so we’re good, right?” Rafe said as y/n fought harder. “What’s wrong now? You don’t like it all of a sudden?” Rafe asked as y/n struggled.

“Oh, but you love dry-humping my best friend in front of the whole party to embarrass me, huh? To give him what’s mine!? Is that what you did? Give up your pussy for some wannabe me?” Rafe asked in y/n’s ear.

“I-I’m not yours a-and I didn’t even fuck him, Rafe! I-I just made out with him,” y/n tried helping herself, but Rafe wasn’t having it. “Yeah, making out? Do you think that shit’s cute? You think being known as a whore is cute?” He asked.

“I’m not a whore!” Y/n yelled in his face. Seconds later, Rafe turned the girl around, disconnecting his hand around her neck to her hair. “We’ll see about that,” Rafe said as he began tugging at his belt and Jeans.

“Rafe?” Y/n asked, knowing something going wrong. “Rafe, what are you doing?” She asked. The girl stayed confused until her dress was lifted and her underwear ripped off smoothly.

“What the fu-“ y/n went to complain but Rafe pulled her face back by her hair and then slammed the side of her face into the wall. “Don’t make this worse,” Rafe tried warning her.

The girl began yelling and cussing the man out as he helped himself grow harder than he’d ever been. She began threatening him and telling him how she’ll beat his ass if he doesn’t get off of her, but he couldn’t care less abt her lies.

“Listen to me, and you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Rafe said before he thrust his cock into his step sisters cunt until his knees bucked. “No!” Her cry cracked as she placed her hands on the wall to brace herself.

“Tightest pussy I’ve been in,” Rafe growled in the poor girl's ear before thrusting his hips repeatedly against her ass. “S-Stop,” she begged, but Rafe wrapped his free hand over her mouth just so he could fuck her harder and not get caught.

“Keep your pretty ass upstairs next time, away and hidden from all these horny fucks. All they want is what I have,” Rafe’s hips moved like a dog, feeling every inch of her walls rub against his cock.

“As soon as you were introduced to me in those tight-ass jeans, I knew I had to do something about it. Can’t have my sis out here soaking another man’s cock when you’re supposed to soak mine “ Rafe dug his nails into this girl's skin, making her whimper.

“P-Please,” y/n’s words were muffled. “You’re close?” Rafe asked, feeling her walls tighten around his cock, almost causing him to cum right then and there. “What did I say?” He chuckled as his ace leaned close down her ear. “A fuckin’ whore,” he spat then began slamming into her whole, loving the way she gripped him.

Y/n cried in pain and pleasure as the knot in her stomach grew harder to hold. He knew this. He knew what he was doing to her body, and couldn’t stop. He won’t stop.

“What would they think if you got pregnant by your stepbrother? Would everyone still think you’re an innocent cute little girl? Or will they see you hoe I see you?” Rafe got into the poor girl's head as her legs started giving out in her.

“Let’s see,” he said. It didn’t take long for y/n to cum around Rafe’s cock, and didn’t take long for him to fill her up right after. He’s been dreaming about this moment for too long. Now he finally has her where he wants her.

“I-I’m on birth control,” y/n sobbed low. She’s now on the ground, legs tired while he was fixing himself up. “Hmm, maybe I’ll get that fixed, but for right now, go to your room, and don’t let me catch you downstairs again tonight,” Rafe said before walking off and downstairs with her cum stains on his shorts.

Y/n slowly got up and limped to her room, thinking to herself. She knew something would have happened if she went downstairs, but she didn’t know this. She didn’t know he was capable of something like this.

He fucked her against the wall so easily and with no remorse. He enjoyed it and fucked harder when she let out a too-loud cry.

Now she’s in her room, feeling his cum leak out of her hole in discussion. There was no way she could wash him off, and even if she did, she didn’t know that Rafe would come back again and again just to rub himself all over her just another time.

[tainted-liquor]

'Deathiversary .../ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ ⸝⸝ft the Morales Twins

...✧˖°.

ingredients: salt and sugar!

TWs: unhinged siblings, grief, mentions of death, cussin n thas it!

A/N: it's implied that reader is dating 42Miles (Milo lol) n Miles is the younger twin by like 2 seconds

Several days had passed, and you had not been hearing much from your two favorite M&M's. It was unusual since they never missed an opportunity to bombard your phone with messages, and you couldn't fathom the thought of them ghosting you. You'd known them and been close friends since your first-grade year, and it didn't seem like them to suddenly stop talking to you. They wouldn't just stop talking to you randomly, right?

Right?

A pool of worry poured into your stomach. What if you had said something wrong or they got bored of you? It was natural for people to come and go in and out of each other's lives, but you just couldn't imagine a life without your little tribe of trouble. You decided to calm your nerves, sending a tiny text to Mama Rio asking if you could come over for the day and spend time with Miles and Milo. She gave you the green light in less than 30 seconds, eagerly reminding you that you didn't have to ask to come over. In fact, she said she could use a helping hand with her twins and getting them 'out of their shell'.

You gathered your things and made sure you looked presentable. You read Mama Rio's text over and over again, trying to understand what she meant by "get them out of their shell." It was normal for Milo to be shy or introverted, always hiding behind his mother during early playdates or clinging onto you by your waist. But Miles was different. He was always cheerful and eager to make friends with anyone willing to be nice. What's gotten them so worked up that they can't pick up their phone and shoot you a text?

You trekked down the street, taking your usual route to the Morales's household and plucking the spare key they kept for you under the mat. You unlocked the apartment door, slipping the key right back under the mat as discreetly as possible before quicking ascending the familiar staircase. The hallway was quiet as you gently pushed open the front door, taking off your shoes on the designated mat before greeting Mama Rio in the living room and pulling her into a tight hug. "Hii, Mama Morales!" You squealed, taking in her absolutely beautiful and welcoming energy from just one hug. Honestly, how could anyone be disliked by Mrs. Morales?

"Hola mi niñita! I'm so glad you're here, the boys haven't come out of their room all week. It's getting alarming..." she murmured, wincing with a small shrug and a kind smile. "Really? They're usually raiding my room" You shrugged with a small roll of your eyes. She giggled, giving you a playful swat to the shoulder before gesturing to the boys' room. You knocked on their door, waiting for one of them to give you vocal clearance to enter their space before the door swung open rather violently, coming face-to-chest with Milo, who was currently being leaned on by his younger brother Miles. To say they look tired was an understatement.

"Mamá, te dije que no puedo-...Oh. My bad" Milo muttered, lack of sleep and potential tear stains evident on his face. Miles perked up slightly, opening his eyes to get a good look at whoever was at his door. "Damn, y'all good?" You asked, instantly being ushered inside the room by Milo. He placed the ghost of a kiss on your forehead, pushing his brother off of his back before he flopped down on his black and blue bed and invited you to sit next to him with a pat of his hand. You sat down next to him, watching as Miles practically cuddled with his brother, which was odd considering they'd be at each other's throats by now for even being near the other.

Miles sighed, snatching the blanket right off his brother before he began to slowly mutter a couple of words you barely heard. "Tomorrow's our dad's death anniversary..." he whispered, looking down at the bedsheets to avoid eye contact with you at any cost. Your heart sank in your chest as you watched the two boys cling onto each other like they'd be ripped from their other half at any given moment. "I'm so sorry Miles, I wouldn't have come over if I knew that you were-" You began, instantly feeling like an intruder as the pair looked back at you with gloomy and watery eyes. "Nah. You're fine. In fact, stay with me...kinda wanted you here anyway" Milo mumbled as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your lower waist and leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I can't speak on your loss, cuz that ain't right. I can't tell you how to feel, but I do know that your dad loved you both. So so much. He wouldn't want you to rot in this room every year, he'd want y'all to spend time with your mom, y'know?" You soothed, tracing imaginary shapes across Milo's back while Miles laid down on your left thigh. "And your mom is worried about you. She wants her sons back" You reasoned as the pair instinctively winced at the mention of their mother's pain. You spent two hours comforting and reassuring the pair, listening as they both opened up about their sentiments regarding their dad. After what felt like only five minutes, the sky began to fade into a love-struck pink. Milo wasted no time in wrapping both of his arms around your waist to 'get comfortable'.

He yanked the blanket back from his other twin, draping it over the both of you with little regard for his brother. "Bro stop being a THIEF!" Miles semi-shouted as he tugged back on the blanket. "I have nothing to put on me! It's cold!" He argued as he attempted to pull the blanket back, heeding no results. "I got something you can put on that fat ass forehead. A KNOT." Milo threatened, eyes immediately narrowing at his counterpart. "Quit begging for scraps, you homeless! You got a blanket over there, fuck you want mine for!?" Milo snarled, wasting no time in using his free hand to hit Miles with a pillow.

"That's why your braids is fucked up" Miles muttered, earning a middle finger from Milo. You had no choice but to sit and watch as two completely identical people berated each other, going blow for blow about their appearances and builds after just grieving their loss. When they both finally calmed down, they went back to their great depression and reminisced about their late father. You held Milo as close as humanly possible, covering his face in tiny reassuring kisses as Miles rested his chin on your shoulder. They told you endless stories of their once-happy family.

"And he would take me and 'ilo to see the circus every time it came around...but I was always confused when they brought the monkeys out cuz I was always sitting next to Milo..." Miles mumbled, fighting back a smirk as Milo sat up and looked him dead in the face.

"You get one more before I rock your shit."

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[greatooglymooglyyy]

The Last Ride Chapter Two (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

series masterlist

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

a/n: ok remember when i said this chapter wasn't gonna be that long? i lied. but i love y'all if that helps. also thx so much for 500 followers. that's unreal.

contains: arguing, general ranch activities, cussing, not really anything crazy, 2.6k words

“Rise and shine, city girl!”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I peel open my eyes and squint at the annoying figure in my doorway who’s flicking the lights on and off.

“Chris. Please fuck off.” I mumble, rolling over and yanking the covers over my head. I don’t even know what time it is but from the lack of sun pouring in through the curtains, I know it’s too damn early.

“C’mon now. Get up. You’re gonna wanna get a good breakfast in before we start.” He urges but I just reach out from under the blanket and shoo him away.

“Yes! I was hoping it would come to this.” Chris says, sounding way too excited for my liking. I scramble up in suspicion just in time to see him lifting a bucket of water over where my head was.

“Do it and die!” I yell and he grins in response, lowering the bucket.

“Thought you’d see it my way.” He pauses for a second squinting. “Are you wearing fuckin’ Gucci pjs?” He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Why don’t you mind the business that pays you?” I grumble, throwing my legs off the bed and into my house shoes so he will leave.

“Unfortunately, I am.” He deadpans. “Get dressed. And I swear before the lord, if I see anything designer, I’ma push you into the pig sty.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know!” I call before he can close the door. He looks over his shoulder, eyes catching on my fuzzy slippers before he answers.

“We’ll see.”

He clicks the door shut and I get out of bed, heading to my suitcase in a bit of a panic. I throw it open, hoping that I managed to pack at least one outfit that will work but cursing under my breath when I find I didn’t. I’m about to admit defeat, mourning my Rick Owens, when I turn and look at the duffle bag my dad handed me before we left home.

He’d placed it alongside my other luggage in the foyer and I’d been so angry at him I didn’t bother to ask what it was. I unzip it and sigh with relief when I find several sets of overalls, cheap denim, and basic tees. He even added a pair of the ugliest work boots I’ve ever seen. It makes my heart lurch to think of him being this thoughtful when he was so mad at me and I almost want to call him. Almost.

I mean he did ship me off to bum-fuck Louisiana. The least he could do is give me a wardrobe. I huff in renewed indignation before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

When I’m finally dressed, I head into the kitchen where my aunt and uncle are laughing with Chris at the table.

“Good morning,” I say quietly, heading over to where Aunt Birdie has left me a plate. Chris looks me up and down before shooting me a taunting thumbs up and I glare back.

“You excited for your first day, bunny?” My aunt asks, standing to collect my uncle and Chris’ plates. I give her a look over my fork full of eggs and she laughs. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

Uncle Buck cuts in with a curt laugh, grunting as he stands up. “Now don’t you go lyin’ to the girl.” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not to scare ya down the road or nothing, honey. But the first couple days are gonna be rough.” He claps a hand on Chris' shoulder, who’s been watching the interaction with a knowing smirk. “But I’m sure our boy here will take it easy on you today.”

“Of course I will.” Chris lies, nodding down at my plate. “But maybe you should eat up, darlin’. You might need it.”

***************

“Not like that!” Chris snaps, leaning over my head to run a calming hand over the cow I’m desperately trying to milk. “Don’t tug on her. Just squeeze. Firm but gentle.”

“Well, that’s how they do it in the cartoons so-” I cut myself off and roll my eyes as Chris gives me a look like I have two brain cells. “Why can’t you do it then? And I’ll watch.”

“Because then you won’t won’t learn… obviously.” He says, talking slowly as if I’m a toddler.

He walks around the front of the cow and nuzzles her nose. “Hey, Daisy girl. It’s okay. Sorry about her.”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” I ask as he comes back over and squats down next to me. Chris’ jaw drops and he blinks at me slowly.

“Holy shit. There’s no fuckin’ way-”

“Nevermind-”

“How the fuck would a male pro-”

“Let it go-”

“You think we’re out here milking a bull’s ball-”

“Chris! Just help me!” I cut in, frustration clear in my tone. He sighs and leans forward, readjusting my hand placement and showing me how to squeeze. When milk finally comes out, I squeal in excitement and look over at him. He meets my eye with an amused grin before his face drops and he pulls away.

He clears his throat and stands, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Yeah, just keep doing that. That’s good.” He comments as I continue following his guidance.

When the cow is all milked I stand, pouring my bucket into the larger one Chris points at and give him a cocky smile. “See. I’m not so stupid after all.”

He rolls his eyes and claps sarcastically. “Mhm. Great job.” He comes over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and turning me to the left. “Now for the other eight.”

I groan in defeat, leaning down to pick my bucket back up. Wonderful.

************

“Okay. For whatever reason, some of the hens don’t like to lay their eggs in the nesting box. We don’t sell those, we just keep them for ourselves and Birdie cooks with ‘em.” He hands me a plastic bucket half filled with hay. “Go walk around and find ‘em all.”

I smile despite myself at this. “Like Easter?”

Chris chuckles and dusts off his hands. “Sure, city girl. Like Easter.”

I roll my eyes as I start looking around the coop, spotting a few eggs in the corner. “Stop calling me city girl.”

“Oh, that’s right. You like bunny better, huh?” He teases, heading over to the nesting box and coaxing the hens out his way.

I toss a glare at his back as I continue my egg hunt. “Or you could just call me my damn name.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He walks over to me and holds up a cracked egg for me to see. “You ever get a defective one like that, you throw it out, you hear? I don’t wanna see it in my pile.”

I scoff at his bossy attitude and I throw him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, going back to the box. “Why do they call you that anyway? Bunny. Are you really as sweet as all that?”

“Try me and find out,” I reply, scooping up the last of the eggs. I turn and find Chris staring at me with his eyebrows raised, realizing my mistake. “I didn’t mean it like-”

He turns back to the box, cutting me off. “Nah. I think I’ma need to think of something new. Name you somethin’ that fits you better. Let me think.”

“Sure, bud,” I say, stepping closer to him as he explains the difference between the white and brown eggs.

************

“When do we get to go see the horses?” I ask as we load up the pickup truck with more food and water.

He looks over at me in surprise. “You a horse girl? Makes sense. Thought you were weird.”

I glare at him and he chuckles. “Shut up. I just liked to ride a bit when I used to come here.”

He nods and pulls up the tailgate. “It was somebody else’s day to fed ‘em.” He says before he notices the disappointment on my face. “But we can swing by. We’re going that way anyway.”

I give him a small grateful smile and he gestures for me to hop in the truck.

When we pull up to the stables, I’m almost overwhelmed by the memories that flood me. Me standing on a stool to brush my childhood horse, Pinkie Pie. My first time riding, my grandpa stuck like glue to the side of the horse and holding the reins.

I shake it off, not wanting to get emotional and head in behind Chris. He shows me around, pointing to a few of the horses and telling me their names before handing me some oat treats to feed them. I look around at their beautiful faces before I spot one that catches my attention.

She looks almost identical to Pinkie, with chestnut coloring that fades a bit darker around her neck and face. I walk up to her and extend my hand for her to eat from, keeping my palm flat.

“Hold on!” Chris starts but he drops his sentence as she gently begins to eat. I bring up my other hand and stroke her face gently.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

Chris walks up beside me, clearly dumbfounded. “I can’t believe she’s letting you feed her by hand let alone touch her. Cinnamon’s a mean ole girl. Ain’t that right.” He reaches over the fence and scratches her neck. “She only likes me and your uncle.”

I tut and Cinnamon nuzzles her face close to mine, dropping her ears and closing her eyes.

“Well, I guess she has a new favorite,” I say with satisfaction. I play with her for a few more minutes, giving her love and some more treats before I remember Chris is there.

He’s leaning against the fence staring at us with his arms crossed, a strange dopey look on his face. I raise my eyebrows at him and he clears his throat and pushes up.

“C’mon. Let’s get back to work.”

************

“Lift with your legs and your core, woman. You’re gonna throw your damn back out.” Chris nags as I attempt to pour the pig feed into their container.

“Well, you could be a manly man and lift it for me!” I say breathlessly, grunting with effort. He comes over and snatches the bag from me, lifting it like it was a stick of gum.

“What are you gonna do when I’m not with you?” He says when he’s done, dropping the bag between his feet.

“Oh, I get the feeling you’ll always be over my shoulder so I’m not worried,” I say looking down sadly at my ruined nails. Chris notices and taps his foot for my attention. He's got his evil ass smirk on when I look up at his face and I know I’m in trouble.

“Y’know. I was gonna wait till tomorrow but I reckon it’s about time to weigh a couple of the piglets.”

My eyes widen to saucers at the idea of picking one of those dirty things up. “Chris-”

“Why don’t you go grab us one, huh? Just swing over the fence.” He’s cheesing, seeming the most entertained I’ve seen him yet; and that’s saying something.

I stomp around to the front of the pin, not wanting to let him win. There’s no way I’m sliding over a fence and picking up a pig in the same breath so I unhook the gate and swing it open.

“Wait! Y/N! Don’t-” Chris calls out but it’s too late. A piglet jets his ass out the gate and takes off across the field. I cuss loudly then slam the gate shut before another one can Houdini their way out. Turning on my heel, I take off after the little pig, listening to the laughter of the other workers behind me.

He’s fast, I’ll give him that, and I chase him all the way to the horse stables. He runs in but gets spooked when they neigh and turns back allowing me to scoop him up. He squeals and squirms in protest but I hold on tight.

“Got you. You little trackstar.” I say, out of breath. I turn around and start to head back, stopping in my tracks when I see Chris coming around the corner with a cage.

He takes the piglet from me and I hunch over, trying to stabilize my breathing.

“Bet you listen to me, next time.” He says after he’s got Wilber Jr. secured. But I don’t respond. I just stay bent over exhausted, feeling tears pricking my eyes. Chris notices and comes over, placing a hand on my back and rubbing in circles.

“Hey. I think it’s time for a break. How’s lunch sound?”

*************

We sit on the bed of the truck eating the lunches Aunt Birdie packed for us quietly. I scrunch my nose up when I notice him sipping out of a Pepsi can.

“Does Coke not bother sending their product to this fuck ass state?” I say teasingly.

He screws his face up at me and shakes his head. “Not gonna lie. I’m not even surprised when you’re wrong anymore.”

I laugh lightly, taking another bite of my sandwich.

“So…” Chris starts, reaching back, tossing his trash in the bag. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about you, Scotch. Got any siblings?”

“Scotch?” I question, raising my eyebrow at the nickname.

“Yeah. Scotch. Cus people always like to say it has all this kick to it… but, uh, it goes down smoother than you’d think.” Chris maintains eye contact with me for a second and then looks away, stretching.

I smile to myself and clear my throat before answering. “Well… anyway. No to the sibling question. I always wanted one though.”

He snaps pointing at me like he’s having a breakthrough. “There it goes. You’re proving my only kid theory.”

I roll my eyes and push his shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”

He grins at me and cracks his fingers. “Okay give me some more. What else?”

“I’m from Los Ang-”

He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Duh. I asked about you. Not where you’re from.”

I furrow my brows in thought. Those two things have always been one and the same to me. “Um.. okay. Well, how about you go first? Do you just have your sister or are there more of you?” I shudder dramatically.

He raises a brow at the jab but answers anyway. “Just me and her. She’s my everything.” He smiles lightly and then nudges me with his shoulder. “You’re not off the hook. What do you wanna do when you grow up?” He asks, his tone taking on a mock childish quality. I laugh and rest my face on my cheek, thinking.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out but it’s hard,” I say, drumming my fingers against my face.

He scoffs and I look over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Nothin’. It’s just…I don’t get what’s hard about it.” He says simply.

I sit up, my guard snapping back into place. “I don’t understand what you don’t understand. I mean it’s the rest of my life we’re talking about.”

He rubs a hand over his face and shrugs. “I mean not really. If you don’t like it, you’ll just call up mommy and daddy to fix it for you.” I blink at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“No, you’re just being an fucking asshole. As usual.” I snap, sliding off the truck, and storming off toward the goats. I don’t know why his judgment is suddenly affecting me at all but it doesn’t matter. The quicker I get this day over, the quicker I can get away from Chris fucking Sturniolo.

🏷️@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

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[norrisleclercf1]

Idea for your celebration! First off, congratulations my dude! that's insane! Second, the idea is mafia!Lando and Oscar where the reader is being stalked or something so the boys take it into their hands ;)

A/N: Mafia Oscar AND Lando damn ya'll feeding me

Warnings: Stalking, mention of torture, Lando is a little dark in this

You knew something was off. The way that the hair on the back of your neck was standing, it was clear something was very wrong. The bags in your hands, heading back to your little brownstone in the city. Lando and Oscar would be home, just a little more.

Casting a glance, you notice a man dressed in all black, head down following you. Fixing the bags in your hand you move through the crowd trying to lose the guy. It doesn't work as you turn looking in one of the shop windows and seeing him right behind you.

Without a second thought you drop all your bags leaving them as you make a break for the house. Your quick breaths and pounding feet as you hit your door. Turning you see the man rushing at you, screaming you throw the door open. Crashing into a body you slam the door and fall back.

Filled with panic and terror you shove the person away, unsure who it was. "Don't touch me!" You cry, curling into yourself as you shake. "Bubs? Hey, it's me." Hearing that voice you look up slowly, meeting those eyes. "Lando," You whisper flinging yourself into his arms.

He falls back, but keeps you close and rubs your back trying to comfort you. "What the hell?" Oscar storms in, wearing his suit most likely back from a meeting. "I don't know." Lando answers, pulling you closer.

It took them hours to calm you down, one of Lando's informants letting them know what had happened. "I'm going to find that fucker and rip him to shreds." Lando seethes, Oscar shushing him as you squirm in his arms, fast asleep.

"Breath Lando, I've got my people looking for the freak." Oscar reassures, watching his boyfriend pace back and forth. "I will not breath," Lando hisses stopping at the foot of the bed. "He chased her, he tried to hurt our fucking girl. I want him dead, I want it to be cruel and that he'll be begging for it." Lando bushes off the bed, as a soft knock hits the door.

"What?" Oscar replies, the door opening showing one of their ground people. "We've got him." Oscar and Lando lock eyes, a smirk playing at both their lips. The movement is what wakes you, clinging to Oscar who tries to slide out of bed.

"Don't leave me alone." You whimper, Oscar sighs sliding back into the bed. "Go, I'll stay." Lando nods heading down the multiple stairs and to the basement.

"LET ME GO!" The man screams thrashing in a chair, cuffed to it. "Making demands are we? Well, you'll be quiet enough." The man screams louder as Lando lights a small tool, flames pouring out of it. "Now, let's shut you up."