#make sure to mute it if you don’t wanna receive it :3

[yourlocalartsonist]

I finally didn’t miss one of these

[4ngels0uls]

M.A.T.T. - Matt sturniolo

Since streamer Matt is back <3

Also based on the new twitch stream all of them did.

Don’t like? Don’t read?

Summary: nick, Matt, Chris all play Fortnite for a bit, trying to keep y/n and Matt relationship a secret but Matt is making that hard really to do. But he keeps his act so y/n doesn’t get hate. but fuck… y/n is looking fucking hot…

Paring: fem!reader + gamer!matt

Warnings: SMUT, secret relationship, strong language, disagreement, , oral (Fem!receiving), pet names (slut, ma etc?), getting caught, etc.

A/N: HOLY FUCK I LOVE MATT STURNIOLO BUT ALSO CHRIS?😻 I can’t decide tbh. Switched the name.

————————————————————

Y/ns pov

“Fuck!” Matt yells from dying on Fortnite for the 5th time. You’ve been the triplets friends since…. You don’t even know… maybe since you guys were 2 or 3? I don’t know, but you moved into their place with them and now you and Matt are basically attached together. Nobody knows but Chris and nick.

You get up from his (Matt’s) bed and walk over to nick, Matt, and Chris all taking turns playing rounds of Fortnite. The chat starts to spam “hi y/n” “I love her sm”

Matt looks over at me and smiles and you smile back. Chris hits him and gives him the eyes of “don’t fucking do that, they’ll know you dumbass” Matt flinch’s but doesn’t say anything. You stand watching the game till you look over and see how much people are watching.

Your eyes go wide and you start feeling your anxiety to rise. You let a sigh out and sit beside Chris on the bead as Matt plays the game, soon to be nicks turn. You zone out staring at Matt. Why can’t he use his fingers on me like he does with that controller? Why can’t I be his good girl and he’ll pound into me like I’m a little toy? Fuck… is all you can think.

You start to feel wet at the thoughts you’re having of Matt. Matt loses the game “fuck sakes!” He yells and passes the controller to nick. You clench your thighs together and Chris looks at you and whispers “are you okay y/n?” You slowly turn your head towards Chris. “I-I’m fine.” You stutter. Chris raise his eyebrow at you considering you don’t stutter much.

you sigh and try to keep you cool but you can’t at the thought of Matt being rough on you. Nick eventually loses and Chris takes the controller and plays the game, a little bit after Chris loses “fuck!” Chris yells. “Do you guys just wanna play trios?” Matt asks. “sure” nick and Chris both agree.

Nick and Chris get up and leave the room leaving you and Matt alone with the stream. You get up and sit beside Matt while he sets up the stream. He gets it all set up and they ready up for the game. Matt mutes his mic fast and whispers in your ear so no one can read his lips. “I’m going to fucking pound into to you after the stream.”

He pulls his head away and smirks at you as you look at him and your eyes go wide. You blush at the thought of that happening. He unmutes his mic “Matt! Fucking stop!” Chris yells trying to get not to get you and Matt caught. “Sorry sorry..” Matt answers. They land on the bottom right of the map. They get the medallion and drive around.

————————————————————

“Alright guys we’re going to go now, see you guys soon!” Matt says as everyone in the chat says goodbye and all three of the triplets throw up the peace sign and Matt ends the stream. “You going to keep your word?” You ask Matt. “Fuck yes.” He says as he picks you up and brings you to his bed. “your fucking slut, trying to think I don’t know your wet? I heard you stutter”

You stare up at Matt with a little shock after admitting he heard you stutter to Chris. Matt smashes his lips into yours, making a full on make out sesh. He tugs on your waistband of your pyjama pants. He pulls it right off along with your underwear. He pull his pants down with his boxers also. He takes your shirt and rips it off.

“No bra?” Matt smirks. “Matt! That was a good shirt!” You scold Matt. “Sorry ma. I’ll buy you a new one.” You roll your eyes at Matt response. “Fucking roll your eyes at me again I’ll fuck them till they get stuck.” He threatens you. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You reply. He chuckles at your answer and moves his face in Between your thighs.

He kisses along your inner thighs and gets to your aching core. He moved his lips to your clit. “oh fuck” you moan softly. He sucks and licks your clit making you a moaning mess. He puts his two fingers in your hole making you gasp at the sudden pleasure. You wrap your fingers in between his brown locks as you let whimpers out of your mouth.

Your legs start squeezing Matt’s head. You now have your legs wrap around Matt’s head as he eats you out. “Fuck Matt!” You moan. You thrust your hips into Matt face. He sticks his tongue into your hole making you whimper loudly. “Matt! Close!” You moan.

“Wait a sec” he mumbles against your core, sending waves of pleasure through out your body. “Please!” You yell. “now you can.” He says and the knot in your stomach snaps and you moan. He starts cleaning your juices and you start to feel him writing something. M.A.T.T. Right on your core.

he slides his finger on his chin, wiping up your release off his chin and he licks its off his finger. “Fuck y/n… you taste so good” he groans. He kisses you and you groan at the taste of your self in his mouth. He lays your head down on the pillows and crawls up to you and hovers above you.

He sucks on your neck leaving big purple hickey on your neck, obvious you guys either had a hot make out or had sex, and obviously one is very true. He teases you by sliding his tip against your slits. “Please don’t tease matt” you beg but moan at the same time. He slides himself into your core. Your pussy swallowing his dick. You scrunch your face at the pain because you forgot he’s big.

“m-Matt don’t move too big..” you whine. “Are you okay?” “M-mhm” you grunt. He kisses your collarbone to distract you from the pain. The pain slowly turns pleasure. “o-okay you can move.” You tell him as he smirks and slowly moves his hips. He slowly makes his pace faster and faster. He eventually hits your g spot “fuck Matt!” You scream. “I found it” he smirks as he talks.

He grabs my hips to fasten his pace a bit more. You start to arch your back from the pleasure. “Fuck y/n…” he groans. “Hey ma- HOLY SHIT!” “Matt! FUCKING JESUS” nick and Chris yell. Matt grabs a blanket and puts it over you guys. “Fucking leave!” Matt yells. You stare at nick and Chris as you look fucked out. They close the door almost immediately.

“Jesus fucking Christ..” he Mumbles. He starts to thrusts his hips more than he did he before. He grabs his belt that he had on before. He wraps his belt around your hands, tying your arms behind your back and he starts pounding into to you, his balls slapping against you clit each thrust.

“Ohh fuckk Matt!” You moan. “Fuck your tight..” he groans as he pumps inside of you at an every fast pace. He speeds his pace making not able to even say a thing but his name. “MATT!” You scream. You feel the knot in your stomach start to feel the knot almost snap. “C-cum!” You yell. “go ahead.” He grunts. You release as soon as he opens his mouth. “Humghh matt!” You moan as you cum.

“Fuckk” he groans as he releases his cum into your pussy, painting your walls completely white. He falls down beside you as his cum leaks out of you. He gets up and hovers above you. He start licking your stomach and starts to spell something. M.A.T.T. Right a cross your stomach. He backs up and smirks at you. He leans up and kisses you.

Matt gets up and walks over to the washroom, grabbing a wet cloth so you don’t have all cum over you guys. He cleans you both up and he helps you put all your clothes back on. You go to get up to go get water but your legs are more wobbly than a broken Chair. You sit back down and whine. Matt chuckles at you and goes to go get water in the kitchen.

————————————————————

Matt’s pov

I go get up to get water for y/n considering she can’t walk from the way I fucked her. I walk to the kitchen and see nick and Chris. The silence is very awkward since when Chris and nick walked into the room from when me and y/n were fucking.

I grab a cup and fill it up with water. “hey Matt..?” Chris questions. “yup?” I answer with an attitude. “why after the stream.” Chris questions again. I stare at the water that’s in the cup. “why not?” I ask. “can’t really see you the same bro, kinda weird.” Chris says. I take a glare at him. “Cool.” I answer coldly.

I start to walk back to y/n.

End of Matt’s pov

————————————————————

Y/ns pov

Matt comes back with your cup of water. “Here” Matt says softly. You take the cup and take a sip of the water. “you gotta go piss. You’re going to get a UTI.” Matt says. “oh yeah.” You answer. “can you help me?” You ask Matt. “Yes I can.” He chuckles as he walks to you and takes you to the bathroom.

He plops you down on the toilet and you start peeing. He helps you up and takes you back to the bed. You lay down and he hovers above you. He lays his head on your stomach. He slides his finger all around your stomach as you play with his hair. He starts to spell something. M.A.T.T. He’s done it almost all over now.

Because your M.A.T.T.S.

————————————————————

A/N

got lazy wit it at the end😻

I think i gotta go write a chapter Thing on Wattpad now..

BYE BUTCHS🤗

[ollyou]

Sorry another non-art post but I wanted to point out to some very disrespectful people that this is NOT an art only account > <“

This account was actually made to be mostly rambles, and just because I like pmtok and center most of my stuff around olly doesnt mean thats all i do either! I never wanted to be a pmtok-only artist; i just draw what i want to rather than what other people like to see

I’m a rambler at heart and if you dont like that then you shouldnt follow me, or just mute #rambling !! Alternatively if you don’t want to see any negative posts, mute #negative ^_^

Tbh as someone who has never had an anonymous ask box before joining the pmtok fandom, stuff like this just comes off as really mean and dehumanizing?? Please unfollow me if you have a mindset like this. I constantly tell people to just send me fun asks and stop trying to order me around like a slave and then people who claim to follow me pull this…. 😓 I hope you know that if you think you’re entitled to my artwork and can tell me to “shut the fuck up” for simply speaking how I feel about the constant harassment the toxic side of the fandom has given me and my friends/mutuals, I do not like you and you’re not allowed to enjoy my art tbh….

There is no “we”, just this rude person who likes to pretend they are a fan. But no fan acts like this. I want my fanbase to be a nice and welcoming place full of gentle and friendly people, not entitled bullies who treat me like their slave. Keep it to yourself if you don’t enjoy my rambling, please, or just unfollow/mute the tags I appropriately place for these sorts of posts <3

I blocked this anon immediately after screenshotting this but tbh I’m not sure if that blocks their actual account too… cause I wanna make sure they can’t view my account if all they want to do is dehumanize me. Idk it’s really weird how this fandom acts sometimes which is why I’m so strict with my dni and byf stuff but people don’t listen most of the time…. Agh!!

I make one post telling the people harassing and stalking me for several months if not years to leave me and my friends alone, and these people suddenly get the idea I’m just an art-making machine…. It’s frustrating but in the end I just want to receive nice anon asks. I appreciate all the friendly anons!! Thank you so much. You make my days so much better. I feel bad that sometimes I can’t respond to them, but I read them all. I save them all. I love them all <:)

But yeah… please unfollow me if you’re unwilling to just mute my #rambling and #negative tags when all you do is complain I don’t post art enough…. Also idk, if you want me to post more art then…? Why not you compliment my art? What’s the point of not ever supporting my art when I post it, then complaining and belittling me when I don’t post it? That’s why I block these people. Very very disrespectful.

I know it’s best to just ignore this stuff! And I do. I ignore a lot of it. It is quite annoying, but I ignore it so I can give the nice people room to speak. It’s really rare that I actually speak up about this stuff tbh. I’m almost positive these are all just the same few people block evading me via VPN anyway hahahah. Especially since I’ve seen them do that, too.

Also, I do recognize it’s very likely no one will read this all the way. But I usually don’t write things expecting people to read them! I mostly write stuff for myself, like a journal of some sorts. :D It’s probably a bit weird when I advertise my art and whatnot too, but y’know. I don’t want my tumblr blog to be just… some soulless art dump. I’m not looking for attention, just respect, I guess.

Ah, in the end I’m sure those bullies will use this to fuel their constant harassment of me anonymously (because they too cowardly to hate me normally, I guess), but tbh they just kind of… complain about a singular post I’ll make for the first time in forever for days straight and act like that type of post is all I make, so I guess there’s no appeasing them. Not that I even want to make happy the people who treat me as subhuman.

Idk why people are so entertained by being assholes, but maybe that’s just the naive part of me thinking! I’m no grown adult or anything. In my head I am just a little baby still learning about the online world as I was raised very sheltered from all that stuff and avoided toxicity wherever I went… 💦 I am a tumblr baby! Sorry..!

Ah!!!! Rambling too much. Hahah. Thank you for reading. Hey, if you got this far, why not you send me a friendly anon message? Gotta clean out all the garbage from within my inbox, though I think I’ve done a pretty good job at it as is.

I will post again when I have something to say or more art to share!!!!

[nctsplug02]

hey! can i request y/n who is obsessed with sucking jaehyuns cock? like literally y/n can suck his cock all day long😩

[6:59pm]

genre: fluff and smut

warnings: blowjob (male receiving), praising, degrading, slight daddy kink.

daddy<3: i have a meeting @7, don’t bother me.

you smirked when seeing the message, hoping off the bed and running to his office and poking your head in.

“babe, i have a meeting—?”

“ah, welcome jaehyun. you’re the second person so far.” a deep voice says from the other side and jaehyun nods, pulling his airpods out and unconnecting.

you slip in quietly, closing the door shut behind you and peeking over to see if he was muted— and he was.

“y/n, no. i know what you want and no— we almost got caught last time.” you frown, letting out a whimper. “just wanna pleasure my daddy.” you say, lowering yourself onto your knees and turning him so his knees would clear the small box.

you slip under his desk and you stare up at him with lust. “just a little.. this’ll be my last time. i promise, daddy.” you rub his cock through his sweats. “last time.” you pout, tugging in his sweats.

“whore.” he mutters, turning his laptop screen up a bit and then tugging on his sweats until his cock sprung freely.

you giggle, reaching up and grabbing his cock. jaehyun plops himself onto his work chair and huffs. he doesn’t bother to fix his camera, instead, letting it stay above his eyes.

“damn, whore. always getting her ways.” he flinches when you wrap your mouth around him. “mmm.” you moan, bobbing your head slowly.

“love your cock. love it so much.” you say while licking under his tip. the pleasure and sensation causing him to moan. his knees flinch and his grip on the arm rests tighten.

“such a yummy dick.” you slap his tip against your tongue. “shut up, slut.” he pushes your head making you gag as his cock slides into your throat. “just keep sucking my dick, cockslut.” he grabs your hair and repeatedly pushes your head down.

he smirks a bit when hearing your gags and your tiny whines when given a chance to even make a noise. the saliva gathering up your throat and sliding down his cock in a sloppy way.

you gasp for air as he lets your head go. he makes sure to keep his hand above your head so you wouldn’t bump into his desk.

“nose, baby. use your nose like i taught you.” you nod, jerking him. “again.” you heave, pressing a peck on his tip.

jaehyun grabs your hair again and begins to shove your head down onto his cock. his cock easing down your throat— a sensation making you tear up.

“nose, baby.” he reminds you and grins when hearing you take a breath through your nose. “good girl.” he pulls you off and listens as you heave again.

“make daddy cum.” he says, shoving your head down again. you moan, letting your tears slip down your heated cheeks.

your throat squeezing around his tip, making him cum down your throat. “gah— fuck, baby.” he grunts, falling back into his chair. “fuck, i love it when you give me these blowjobs.” he sighs, pushing his chair back and letting you crawl out on all fours.

you moan, tapping his knee and sticking your tongue out. showing him your tongue with a bit of his cum. you moan, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head side to side gently.

“did i do good, daddy?” he chuckles out of breath. “you did.. so good. so so good.” he rubs your cheek.

“uh, mr jeong? jaehyun— you still there, buddy?” a voice calls making jaehyun slam his laptop shut.

“get up here and ride me.” he says holding his cock up high.

[miekasa]

iced tea

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, levi is the best not yet boyfriend au, erwin would definitely be an insufferable project partner to have but you gotta love him au

+ summary: there are three rules of night class. come on time, come prepared, and come with snacks. you forget about rule number three. luckily, levi’s there to save the day.

There’s only one appeal to signing up for a three-hour night class, and it’s that you only ever have to muster up the will to attend once a week. It’s a sacrifice, but it definitely cuts down on the temptation of skipping like you would a normal, one-hour section course. Just one and done.

Plus, you have Erwin with you in this class. Is he a little bit of a professor’s pet and consistently overly chipper every class despite knowing he’s about to endure 180 minutes of lecture? Sure, but at least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Really, it’s not as bad as it sounds, especially if the course is interesting enough, or easy enough, and luckily for you, yours is both. Not to mention, your professor is brilliant, actually entertaining, and does her best to keep the class engaging—she’s funny in the dorky, lovable professor kind of way. And she gives you short, ten to fifteen minute breaks at every hour mark just to make sure everyone doesn’t completely lose their minds.

It’s a commitment, but you’ve grown to actually enjoy it. As long as you follow the three rules of night class: come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with—

“Fuck,” you curse, watching as Erwin pulls out one of his many, tiny, organic, boxed juices. The ones meant for children with soy sensitivities that Erwin claims are packed with more nutrients.

“What’s up?” He questions, more shocked than concerned, at your sudden profanity as he sets his juice box in the right corner of his desk.

You pout. “I forgot to bring snacks.”

Come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with snacks. Those were the only three rules of night class, and you’d completely forgotten about the most important one.

“Oh,” Erwin grins, pulling a chocolate bar from his lunch bag and taunting you with it, “Sounds like a you problem.”

You snatch a piece from the top corner, stuffing part of it into your mouth to spite him; but you regret your choices as soon as it melts on your tongue.

“What the fuck—is this mint chocolate?” you complain, swallowing the rest of the sweet with disdain.

“Yes it is,” Erwin huffs, grabbing the remaining stolen bit from between your fingers and popping it into his mouth, “And it is delicious.”

“You’re an actual menace to society.”

Erwin crinkles his nose at you, “A menace to society with snacks for the next three hours.”

His comment makes you groan, albeit a little dramatically, and you slump back in your chair to debate your options. Class doesn’t start for another twelve minutes; you could try and run to the student center quickly to buy some last minute snacks, but the line was probably already lengthy with students of similar trains of thought, meaning you’d be late if you stuck it out, which would leave you violating rules one and three tonight. Erwin makes you sit in the front row with him, and you were not willing to take the late walk of shame with an armful of snacks in tow.

You could wait it out until the first hour break, but they’ll probably be sold out of anything good by then, not to mention the race to beat out the line again. If you played your cards right, you could order food during class and time it so that it was delivered during your break, but that was risky.

Alternatively, you could try and sprint to the concessions stand near the library, but going there and back was so much further away than the student center; you’d probably end up late, too.

“Hey,” you call to Erwin, refraining from rolling your eyes as he sets all six thousand and twenty eight of his colored pens on his desk for the evening, “Is Hange still on campus?”

“No, they have work today.”

You groan. Why did Hange have to be so responsible and good with their time-management skills. They was your last hope. Unless—

“Do you think Levi will bring me Starbucks?”

“Probably,” Erwin shrugs, humming to himself; but then he thinks it over, replying again with a knowing smirk on his face, “Actually, definitely. If he’s still here, but he probably is. You know him.”

You pout, the possibility of Levi being home is high, but so is that of him being cooped up in his favorite library. Either way, he would likely be studying right now, and you’d hate to disturb him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

[sent 6:47pm] you — leeevaaaaaaaaai are you still on campus

[received 6:47pm] leeevaaai — yes — why, what’s wrong

[sent 6:47pm] you — uwu — wanna bring me something from starbucks before class — i have my 3 hour lecture today and i forgot snacks :—( — and erwin won’t share his organic $1500 whole foods gummy bears with me

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — i told you i don’t like the smileys with the noses, they’re ugly — should you even be drinking coffee this late, you’ll be up until the ass crack of dawn

You scoff audibly, and Erwin takes this as an invitation to peep at your screen. Your comment about his snacks does not go unnoticed, as bitterly munches on his (yes, in fact, organic and gluten-free, as if it being mint flavored wasn’t criminal enough) chocolate bar.

[sent 6:48pm] you — that’s RICH coming from you mister

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — you’re being awfully rude to someone you expect to buy you a $7 drink

[sent 6:48pm] you — hehe sorry i loooove you leeevaaai — venti iced chai latte — light ice

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — do you think i don’t know your overpriced starbucks order by now

[sent 6:49pm] you — uwu :—)

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — but you’re getting a grande, i’m not made of money — and it’s punishment for sending another ugly nose smiley

[sent 6:49pm] you — un-uwu

“I don’t blame him,” Erwin chuckles, scrunching the wrapper from his now finished bar between his fingers.

You flick him away, ignoring the turning heads of your classmates as Erwin’s pens fall in the aftermath. It’s seven o’clock on the dot when your laptop pings loudly with an incoming message from Levi—and a subsequent groan from Erwin, who breeches your personal space once more to press the mute button on your keyboard.

[received 7:00pm] leeevaaai — where are you sitting

[sent 7:00pm] you — front row to the right — erwin’s idea not mine

Levi spots Erwin’s bright blonde hair before he sees you, scoffing to himself as he makes his way to the front of the room; a tray with three Starbucks cups, and a plastic bag in tow. Erwin sees him first, too, waving at him as he crosses from the left side to where the two of you are seated.

“Aw, Levi, you brought me one!” Erwin all but squeaks, reaching for one of the other drinks with grabby hands after you take your iced drink from the tray.

But Levi pulls one hot drink from the tray for himself, and pulls the remaining one out of arm’s reach. “As if,” he grumbles, bringing his own cup to his lips. 

“You’re the best, Levi,” you smile, sticking your tongue out at Erwin. Levi only offers you a small nod as acknowledgement. He extends his left hand now, the plastic bag sliding off his wrist and onto your desk, silently.

Confused, you lean forward, setting your drink down to open the contents of the bag. Inside, there are two granola bars, a bagel, cream cheese, some kind of sandwich, and a small Nutella to-go cup with mini breadsticks attached. When you look back up at Levi, he simply shrugs, sipping on his drink again while a light pink dusts over the tips of his ears. 

“You said you forgot your snacks,” he explains, “I knew you’d text me the whole time, bitching about how Erwin wouldn’t share his zero-calorie lemon rinds if you didn’t have your own.”

You take note that the chai he brought you was, in fact, a venti, and not a grande like he’d threatened, and that the granola bars in the bag are not only your favorite flavor, but from your favorite brand, too; and you find yourself smiling as you decipher the very clear message underneath Levi’s less than poetic words.

“What’s in the other cup?” Erwin asks, pointing at the remaining drink. Levi carefully lifts it from the tray, and sets it down on the other corner of your desk, a safe distance away from your laptop.

“Tea,” he says shortly, “So you don’t lose your mind after inhaling your coffee.”

“This is tea, too. Chai is tea, Levi.”

“Tea without milk or six kilograms of sugar,” Levi corrects you, “Or ice.”

“Iced tea is tea, you know.”

Levi doesn’t respond to that with anything but a glare. You smile at his stoicism. Erwin thinks the whole exchange is kind of weird, and wonders where you possibly get the gall to make fun of his taste in snacks when you can’t even realize you’re in love with a man who refuses to identify iced tea as a valid form of tea. 

“I better go before she starts,” Levi speaks, a single hand referencing to your professor behind him, who looks just about ready to begin class for the evening, “Call me when you’re done, I’ll drive you two home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Erwin and I usually take the b—”

“Brat,” Levi cuts your words short, “Call me when you’re finished. I’ll be in the library.”

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, but your resolve is waning, once again, as you closely read at the implications of Levi’s promise. You accept, and Erwin is more than happy for the free ride.

Levi hums. “And eat the bagel before the Nutella.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m a saint,” Levi deadpans, placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head affectionately, “Call me.”

He walks away before you can debate again, just as your professor speaks into the microphone to grab everyone’s attention. You scrunch your nose, hands flying to your hair to smooth out the aftermath of Levi’s playfulness, before opening your notes for the evening.

“You’re really dense aren’t you?” Erwin asks, one eyebrow raised, but the overall look on his face is more than fond, “It’s kind of cute.”

“Huh?” you question, cheeks stuffed with food as you bite into your bagel, “Dense about what?”

Erwin shakes his head, turning back to laptop with an exasperated expression, the fondness in his eyes fading quickly. “Hopeless,” he mumbles, “The both of you.”

[k3rm1e]

hello dear! may I please request a dream x reader?

reader is a lil stressed and decides to cuddle in dream’s lap during a stream? just cute fluff please <3

also, snagging that 🌹💫anon please!🥰

dream w/ stressed s/o!

hello dear! may I please request a dream x reader?

reader is a lil stressed and decides to cuddle in dream’s lap during a stream? just cute fluff please <3

also, snagging that 🌹💫anon please!🥰

hi 🌹💫 anon! i didn’t know whether you wanted a scenario or hc type thing so i just went with a scenario. if you wanted hc i will be happy to rewrite! don’t blame yourself, i didn’t put that you should specify in my ask info so it’s my fault lmao. <3

summary: after a bad day, dream helps you feel better.

dream with stressed s/o:

  you hadn’t been having a good day. more school work had been assigned to you by your professors. add that to actually work at your job and the fact that the weather hadn’t been too nice recently, you were pretty stressed.

  looking into his streaming room, he didn’t seem to be doing much. dream sat at his pc, streaming. it didn’t look like he was doing anything too serious, just trying out speedruns and talking to chat. as you knocked lightly on his door, he quickly turned around, muting his mic.

  “hey, whats up?” after not immediately receiving a response, he slid off his headphones and walked over to you. “you good?”

  with a sigh, you started. “yeah. just had a long day.”

  he moved forward and took you in his arms. “stressed out?” feeling you lightly nod against his chest, he spoke again. “you want me to end stream early? i’m not doing anything important.”

 “noooo. don’t end stream for me. it’s fine. i’ll hangout with patches or something.” you leaned backwards a bit, out of the hug. even though you wanted comfort, making sure you weren’t inconveniencing dream felt more important. he loved interacting with fans and you didn’t want to take that away from him. 

   “well, do you wanna sit with me? you could sit and my lap. we can be like a cute instagram couple.” he leaned towards you, holding your hands together.

  “... i don’t wanna bother chat. you’re talking to them and i don’t wanna be a bother.”

  “in what  world would you be a bother? you can just sit there, it’ll be fine.  besides, chat’s already been waiting like five minutes for me. they’ll survive.” he stared at you with puppy-dog eyes. “pleaseeeeeeee? for me?”

  looking to the side a bit, you gave in. “fine”.

  dream visibly brightened up, giving a little cheer, kissing you on the cheek. “yay!” he took you by your hands, dragging you over to his desk. He quickly sat down and pulled you into his lap.

  “you sure you want me to stay here? i’m fine to just hang out with patches.”

  “babe, while i’m sure patches would appreciate your presence, i would prefer it if you stayed with me. get comfy now, i’m about to unmute.” you moved around in his lap until you got in a comfortable position.

  he unmuted and began talking. “hey chat, had to go do something for a few minutes. let's restart the run…” his quiet, calming tone faded into the background noise. slowly, you began falling asleep.

  a few hours later, you woke up in bed. to your right, dream was sitting down doing something on his laptop with patches in his lap, running his fingers through your hair. after staring at him for a minute or so, you spoke up, “hey.”

  turning his head in shock, he smiled when his eyes landed on you. “hi. sleep well? feel better?”

  you nodded twice at him. “yeah. lay down with me. i wanna cuddle.”

  “heh. okay, bossy.” he laughed and moved the laptop to a bedside table. Patches jumped off his lap and to the food of the bed as he moved in a lying position.

  “thank you for moving me to the bed. i love you.”

  as he held you in his arms he responded. “i love you too.”

hi! i hope you liked it! I was nervous about writing for dream since i don’t watch a lot of his content but i had fun writing this! <3

[goldenraeofsun]

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

[simsadventures]

Gilded: Chapter 3: Power Over Me

Mobster!Steve x Reader

Summary: What more can you do than have a rad bachelorette party and then move to a house full of mobsters. It all sounds fun, right? Well, not according to your experience. 

Warnings: mobster AU, drinking, swearing, surveillance, angst, smidge of fluff, violence, mention of bruises, fear 

Word Count: 5737

A/N: A little late, I know I know, but I wanted to make sure the chapter was exactly how I wanted it. I keep thinking I will get to the wedding, and then some situations occur and I know I have to concentrate on them a little more. Than being said, I think we will finally see the wedding next! What do you think of this part? Did you like it? Is the reader a little less annoying? Let me know xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

< Previous Chapter 

The scene was supposed to be joyous, but, for some reason, the majority of what you felt was filled with sadness. Not for any particular reason, it was just the weigh of your decision finally settling in your heart and the realization hitting you that you would indeed be getting married in a week to a total stranger, who was a mobster, none less. 

You chose it, you had to remind yourself as tears fought their way in your eyes. It was just momentary sadness overpowering you, the feeling that your wedding wouldn’t be filled with people loving and caring for you, that the day would be more about showing off Steve’s power over the world than showing his love for his new bride, for whom he had none. And you would be there almost alone: no parents, no extended family, and a very few close friends. Whom you loved dearly, of course, and without whom you wouldn’t even be considering taking such a step. You needed them there, and not just the two lovable idiots you lived with. 

It was also people you’ve come to love during your university years as well as some coworkers, like Christy and Anja. Together it made around 15 people, which was actually a lot more than you had anticipated, but still. It would have to be Aidan walking you down the aisle, and just the mere thought made a choked sob escape your lips. 

The sound brought the attention of the room to you, and before you knew it, you were enveloped in a bone-crushing hug from all the people there, everyone telling you that you should be happy, that this was a good thing. Of course, nobody except Caroline and Aidan knew the reality behind the wedding. All they thought was happening was that you fell madly in love with Steve Rogers, and now you two were tying the knot. You even overhead Aisha say that you were definitely pregnant, otherwise, you wouldn’t have rushed into it like this. You tried to assure everyone that there was no pregnancy at all, but, of course, people believed what they wanted, and you lacked the energy to go around the room and speak to them individually, denying what they formed in their heads. 

It was Friday night, and you were in your apartment, surrounded by all those people who would come to your wedding. You sent a list of names to Steve that afternoon, and, after what you assumed was a background check on all of them, he agreed that yes, these 15 people could actually come. And when he did, you called an emergency meeting at your apartment, using it both as a way of inviting them to the wedding and as a kind of bachelorette party, where all you wanted to do was to drink heavily, eat a disgusting amount of carbs and pass out around dusk. Safe to say, all of your friends had been in, and by the time it was 11 PM, you were all tipsy, and people started to dance. Some (ehm, ehm, Caroline) even on a table, which was hilarious to the rest of you. 

The sadness came and went all evening, but you were determined not to let it ruin your night. So, every time you felt like it was creeping up on you again, you just told somebody and let them hug you until you were feeling better. 

Then, somebody came up with the idea to play Never Have I Ever, and since the tequila still burned in your veins, you agreed immediately. And so the game started. You were roaring like a pride of lions, each answer louder than the previous ones, but the most fun arose from telling each other funny stories. 

“Ok, so this one time I was blowing off my boyfriend, right? And you know how much I hate the taste of sperm, and he knows it as well, but this one time he really insisted on my swallowing, and so when he finally came, I squeaked and pointed somewhere behind him so that I could spit the cum to glass under the table, and when he turned around I showed him my mouth, void of any liquid, and he looked super proud,” your friend Naila laughed as she told the story to the question: never have I ever swallowed cum. 

The night was flowing smoothly, and soon, you saw that it was getting somehow lighter outside. And, sure enough, when you looked out of the window, you saw that the sunrise was coming in mere minutes. 

“Guys, guys! The sunrise is here. Let’s go to the roof to enjoy it,” you yelled even though half of the people were already fast asleep. The few of you who were still barely alive, which was around 5 of you, staggered towards the door and crawled up the stairs to the highest levels, and when you opened the last door, you had New York underneath you. 

You were wasted and exhausted, but the sight poured new life into you as you watched the early orange rays shine on one building at a time, waking up the city that never slept. It was magical, and it took your breath away. You felt your worries melting away as you saw a new day coming, and you thought it was a new day with many possibilities and hopes for you. You had nothing to lose, and Steve proved to you that he would, indeed, take care of you if need be. All would be if you just played your part and learned enough about Steve to be able to escape his wrath. 

The exhaustion then hit your body just as the ray hit your face, and you waved at the drunk group watching the sunrise, each of them in their own realm of thoughts, and soon enough, you sauntered back to your room, where you fell asleep just like the rest of the bachelorette party. 

A piercing tone woke you up with a start, and, for a second, you didn’t even know where you were, what time it was, or even what fucking century it was. The throbbing in your head prevented your brain from functioning properly, and so you rummaged through the pile of clothes next to your bed, fishing for what was obviously your phone. Gosh, how you hated the ringtone, and you reminded yourself to just mute your phone altogether because then nothing like this could happen again. 

You picked up without so much as looking at the screen and just sneered a harsh what into the speaker. 

“Well, good morning to you too, honey,” you heard Steve’s smug voice and rolled your eyes so hard the pain in your head increased. “Is this the way to greet your future husband? I don’t fucking think so,” he continued, and a considerable part of you contemplated just hanging up on him and his annoyingly sexy voice. 

“Steve, I have no fucking idea what time it is, but it’s definitely not time for you to call me and want me to be nice. Give me a few good hours of sleep, and then we can talk, ok?” You hoped this would do it, but from the silence on the other side, you assumed he wouldn’t let be just yet. 

“What happened? Did your bachelorette party get a little out of hand, and you went to sleep only after sunrise?” 

You gasped, shocked how he knew any of it, and for the first time, the fog in front of your brain lifted a little bit. You checked the time, and seeing it was only 9 AM, you assumed that asshole woke you up on purpose if he knew so much about your nightly activities. 

“How the fuck-“

“Language!” He yelled suddenly, and you flinched at the intensity of his voice. “I know everything, and I told you I would have somebody keeping an eye on you at all times. You’re only lucky the guy sleeping next to you is gay, you’d be in so much trouble otherwise, honey,” Steve spat, and the only sound you could muster was a long huff, as you regretted ever being born. 

“What do you want, Steve? If you know so much, you must know that I’m beat and all I wanna do is sleep, with a guy in my bed or without him. So, if you have something to tell me, please do, otherwise, have a good day, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

“We’re gonna have so much fun together, you and I, Y/N. I’m calling because I wanted to let you know that your room is prepared and ready for you and that your bodyguard will pick you up at exactly 8 PM, so don’t be late. Clint will also help you carry all things you need. I’ll send you his number so that you can be in touch with him. Oh, and honey? Take some aspirin and go to sleep, you sound like you need it,” even through the phone, you could hear him smirk as he hung up and let you on your own once again. Thank God.

“Who was it?” Aidan asked sleepily from the other side of the bed, and you just grumbled some response, not really sure if he understood what you meant, but when he hummed and patted your outstretched hand, you took it as yes, I understand you mean your future husband Steve Rogers, nice talk. 

The phone signalled you received a text, and when you looked at it, it was your bodyguard’s phone number and a directive, telling you to go to sleep already, because the dark circles under your eyes didn’t suit you. 

Oh, how you wanted to kill this man already. He got on your nerves more easily than anybody ever before, and for a brief moment, you wondered why he affected you so. You didn’t even know him, and you shouldn’t let him tossing you back and forth, but here you were, pissed because you could just imagine how proud he was of himself that he woke you up and told you what to do so many times in such a short call. 

Sighing, you got up from the bed and went to check the window to see if you could spot the nosy bodyguard ratting on you to Steve. You needed to have a word with him because he just couldn’t go running to Steve every time you blinked. 

Looking around the street, you tried to spot a strange vehicle, one that didn’t fit into the street you grew to know so well. And, sure enough, there was a large SUV, much like the one you had driven with Steve before, and you noticed that the windows were tilted. Since your apartment was on the first floor, anybody from the street had a great view right into your flat, and because you passed out totally exhausted, you didn’t have the time, nor did you remember to shut your blinds. 

You huffed and shut them now, cursing Steve and his nosiness because he wasn’t making your life any easier, and you weren’t even married yet. The year in front of you would be annoying and difficult, but maybe it would make you feel alive again. 

Shaking your head, you didn’t let the memories flood your brain as you strode back to your back, plopped on it belly-first and fell straight asleep.

“Are you sure it’s everything?” Aidan looked around your now half-empty room, except for the furniture that you knew you wouldn’t need. Steve promised to give you a furnished room, and you took his word for it, so you just took the essentials, like your clothes and sentimental stuff. Marie Condo would have been proud because you still managed to get rid of a few things that didn’t spark joy!

“Yeah, and even if I left something here, I could still come, you know? It’s not like I’m never seeing you or this place again. I’ll still be like a 30-minute ride away,” you smiled soothingly at him, but he just shook his head, obviously fighting all the emotions swirling in his heart. 

“Alright, alright. No crying. I’ll call you guys when I’m all settled, and Steve actually lets me be by myself, and I’ll show you the room, ok?”

Both Aiden and Caroline nodded speechlessly and then pulled you in a group hug. 

“You sure you wanna do it? We can still make it seem like we kidnapped you and take you somewhere to Mexico, or Argentina, or wherever he wouldn’t find you,” Caroline whispered, and you laughed through the tears fighting their way out of your eyes. 

“I’ll be fine, you’ll see. We will all have so much fun, and before we know it, the year is over, and I’m back here with you guys, having lived a little,” you smirked, and they nodded reassuringly, not really sure if it really was the best way to live a life, but they didn’t want to push you again. Your heart was set, and they both knew there was nothing they could do now. Except, of course, really kidnapping you. 

“Miss Y/L/N, we should go. The boss said we should be there at 9 PM at the latest, and I would prefer if we could be a little early,” Clint said professionally, but you could see that he was afraid of what would Steve do had you arrived late. You didn’t want to start this weird-ass journey by pissing your future husband or making him hurt his employees (you didn’t know whether he would actually do that, but just to be on the safe side, since he did cut off a guy’s finger a mere few days ago). 

You nodded and stepped from your best friends, looking at them and smiling brightly. You didn’t want any teary goodbyes, so you just showed them thumbs up and followed Clint out of the door. You knew there would be some tears when you left but didn’t think they would come as early as on the first step from your apartment. 

Fortunately, there weren’t that many steps to go before you were out of the building and rushed into the SUV by Clint. It was dark already, but you didn’t want him to see you cry, so you swiftly pulled out your sunglasses and put them on, not saying a word to Clint as he started the car and pulled it into New York’s night traffic. The lights around you were almost blinding, and for a moment, you were glad you had the glasses on, but then another wave of regret and sadness hit you, and you had a hard time keeping in the sobs. Scratching your arms, you stared out of the window and took a few calming breaths, telling yourself to get a grip because you were about to enter the lion’s den, and you couldn’t show them any emotions. 

You knew Clint knew what was going on, but he was gentleman enough not to comment on it. Still, you needed to make sure he understood this little episode was just between the two of you. 

“Can I ask you something, Clint?” You said suddenly and saw his eyes flickering between the road and the mirror, meeting your eyes for a moment. 

“Of course, Miss Y/L/N. However, I should warn you, I am not allowed to give you certain information,” he said formally, and you nodded knowingly. 

“Yeah, right. If I asked you to keep a little secret from your boss, would you keep it?” You asked and nibbled on your lower lip anxiously. 

He seemed to have thought for a second before he nodded his head in a manner telling you that there were things Steve didn’t need to know. His eyes met yours again before he spoke up. 

“I’m now your bodyguard, and if I think the information kept from the boss is in your best interest, then I won’t tell him anything. For example, you smiled all the way to the apartment, no tears and no sunglasses. Though, I think you should powder your nose and dry your face,” he smirked, and you laughed a little, nodding gratefully and doing exactly as he said. 

The car stopped exactly as you put all the supplies back into your purse, and you had a feeling Clint took a longer route to Steve’s house just to give your face the time to dry up and calm down. Checking the time, you saw it was 10 minutes before 9 and saw the relief on Clint’s face when he realized the same thing. 

“Alright, I will take you to the boss and then will get the boys to help with your things. We won’t go through anything, but if you need our help when you’re unpacking, all you have to do is text me,” Clint said, walking you to the door. 

The man you met on your first night there was standing as a sculpture at the exact same spot, and you wondered if he ever moved from that hallway. He did move towards you, gesturing to your purse, but Clint’s hand stopped him mid-motion. 

“She’s clean. I’ve been with her the whole time,” he said sternly and with authority, and when he saw the first man taking a breath to protest, Clint just gave him a chilling frown, and the man stepped down, hung his head in defeat and let you through. 

“It’s not a problem, Clint; I could have shown him the purse, you know?” You almost whispered as you walked through the empty rooms and hallways with Clint by your side. 

“They need to learn to respect you, Miss. You are, after all, marrying the boss very soon, and they need to understand that you are not a threat,” he gave you a curt nod, and you blushed a little. You didn’t know what it was, but the way Clint spoke to you with so much trust and respect already made you feel much better. You knew it would be an issue, so having somebody on your side was a huge relief already. 

“Thank you, Clint, I really-“ 

“Well, happy you two are best buddies already! Are you gonna braid each other’s hair and do each other’s nails soon too?” A voice snapped you back to reality, a voice you already knew too well. Steve was leaning against a door, his face stoic despite the mocking tone of his voice. Clint obviously tensed next to you, mumbled some apology and scurried out of the room, leaving you with Steve. 

You just looked at him and crossed your arms on your chest. 

“Do you need to be like this?” You asked incredulously, not really understanding why he had to be such an ass when all you did was having some sort of conversation with one of his loyal men. 

“Like what, honey? You seem to forget who I am and what I can do to you and your fucking life,” he sneered when he finally pulled away from the door and marched right in front of you. 

Your arms fell from your chest as you stared at him, trying to figure him out. Which, considering he was a prolific mobster, wasn’t the easiest task at hand. But you tried nevertheless and poked to see where was all this coming from. He obviously needed to be in control of every situation, always the centre of attention, and, you realized, it was probably this that pissed him off. You walked in, not really paying attention to him standing by the door but carelessly talking to somebody else. But his attitude was another thing entirely. 

“What do you want me to say, Steve? That I’m sorry I talked to somebody else and that it won’t happen again? You know it probably will, especially since you assigned Clint with the task of taking care of me and making sure I survive this year with you, which is really all he had done in the 40 minutes I have known him,” you reasoned, trying to sound confident but not pushy. You needed to show him that he couldn’t just toss you around like he might have thought. You didn’t expect him changing his attitude altogether for you, but you, at least, hoped he would go easy on you. 

He was seething but also thinking; you could see his mind going in overdrive to come up with something snarky and mean. But you were quicker than him, once again. 

“Will you be so kind and show me to my room? I would like to get settled in before we start talking about the wedding.”

“There will be no talk of a wedding. All you have to take care of is go tomorrow and pick your fucking dress. Everything else is being dealt with. I won’t need you tonight, so you can go and be by yourself till tomorrow,” he snapped and walked away without saying another word. 

Great, now you felt like you were grounded, and all you did was talking with somebody nice to you. You shook your head disapprovingly and headed in a direction you thought might have been your room, but after taking a few turns, you weren’t even sure you were in New York anymore. 

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” You heard from behind you, and before you knew what was happening, somebody pushed you forcibly against the nearest wall, pressing their elbow into your neck. You coughed, surprised, clawing at the man’s forearms and trying to let him loosen the press because it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” He yelled into your face, and you tried to tell him, but your voice wouldn’t come out. So, you just stared at him, tears filling your eyes before you heard a loud hey from somewhere behind you two and saw a man with long brown hair running towards you. 

“Sarge, this woman was roaming around here. I think she is a spy,” the man still holding you said to the newly arrived guy, and all you could do was shake your head and tried to make yourself look as non-threatening as possible. Which wasn’t difficult considering you were in no position to be able to even defend yourself had the man decided to crush your trachea. 

“Fucking idiot! That’s the boss’ bride! Let her go, you dickhead,” the man, sarge, growled, and you felt the pressure leaving your body. Which was all it took for you to collapse on the floor and start coughing uncontrollably, gripping your neck in your hands to protect it from any further disturbance. 

“I-I, I didn’t know, Sarge! Don’t tell him. I thought she was some fucking spy. What the hell was she even doing here all alone, huh? It’s not my fucking fault she came sniffing around stuff that is none of her business,” the man tried to defend himself, but from the murderous gaze he received from the sergeant, he wasn’t very successful. 

“Are you ok, Miss? Did he break anything? Is your head spinning? Are you feeling nauseous? Any of this?” He crouched down to your level and extended an arm to you, and you flinched instinctively, not feeling too sure who was your friend here and who wasn’t. So, to play it safe, nobody was your friend, and you’d be scared of them all, forever. Easy business. 

The man saw your reaction and frowned even more but was persistent when he removed your hands from your neck to see an already-forming bruise alongside your throat. 

“You need to talk to me, Y/N. Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You coughed and grimaced because, yes, in fact, you did hurt and that all over the fucking neck and even your head. Which, given the man almost crushed your fucking throat with his elbow, wasn’t that surprising. 

“I’ll be fine. And I wasn’t sniffing around; I was just looking for my room. I thought it might be somewhere here, and I would have asked if I saw anyone. But this place is like a fucking maze, and I was all alone,” you screeched, and the sergeant nodded and helped you to stand up. He was pulling out what looked like a phone, but you stopped him. 

“Don’t call him, please. I’m fine. I just need to get to the room, so I can put some cold water on it, have a drink and go to sleep. Please,” you accentuated and saw the man weighing his options before he put the phone back to his pocket and nodded for you to follow him. 

“I will tell him, just so you know. Steve needs to know about this, and we need to make sure you are introduced to the whole house the first thing in the morning so that this doesn’t happen again. But he needs to know. I will give you a few minutes to take it all in before I do call him, though,” he said with a resolution in his voice, and while you wanted to protest, you saw that it would have been to no avail. So, not saying another word, you let yourself in what was supposed to be your room and took it all in. 

The walls were this very soft grey, which you actually preferred to the cold white you saw a lot all over the house. There was a king-sized bed against the main wall, framed with two bed-side tables and two matching white and gold lamps. There were many pillows on the bed and a plaid, grey and blue, throw as well, making it all feel very homey. You could see a large closet, where you could have easily fit ten times the amount of clothes you owned. The only other thing in the room was a table with a chair and some drawers, where you could picture yourself working and writing. 

However, when you turned around, you saw something that caught your attention. An easel with a little table on wheels, on top of which was a palette where you could see yourself mixing colors left and right. You squealed, but the sound reminded you that you have just been assaulted and that you could admire the room later. 

You took your time in the bathroom, inspecting your neck and hissing here and there when you touched it carefully. You knew the sarge was outside your door, probably counting in his head before he called Steve, and you were actually pretty surprised he wasn’t marching in already. Just when you thought of it, the door to your room flew open, and you heard Steve and the man talking (well, actually, more like yelling at each other).

“Where the fuck is she? I’m going to kill Drax. I swear to fucking God, man. How is it even possible that he does shit like this? They were all supposed to be briefed, for fuck’s sake. Imma have Sam’s ass as well for this. Fuck!” He yelled and kicked into something, which made you frowned, and you rushed out of the bathroom. 

Steve spun around and almost ran towards you, cradling your face in his hands carefully and lifting your head so that he could have a clear view of the injuries. He was swearing under his breath, but you couldn’t help it and stare at him, wide-eyed. He was actually careful with you, sweet even as he took it all in, and when he was sure you wouldn’t die right there, he took a step back from you. 

“Are you ok?” He asked after a moment, and all you could was just nod and stand there awkwardly, scratching your arms behind your back. 

“Will you be able to find your room easier next time?” 

“No, we took too many turns. But I won’t leave this room till morning anyway, and I will learn to stay out of the way very quickly, I promise,” you rushed to say, not really wanting to meet any of his crew alone again. 

“You can’t be scared walking around here, honey. I will show you around right now, and I have already called an emergency meeting, and I want you there. This can never happen again,” he said gravely, and you understood this was probably his way of apologizing for something that wasn’t really all his fault. Well, he didn’t have to storm off and leave you there, nor did he have to scare Clint away, who was ready to show you to your room in the first place. 

“Is it necessary, Steve? If I’m quite honest, I don’t feel too comfortable leaving the room right now,” you quipped, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. Weirdly, you felt a little better having the skin-on-skin contact with him because, at least now, nobody would be stupid enough to attack you. 

You tried to remember the way and took in the details that would make you not lose your trail again, such as the red vase on one of the tables in the corner that looked just like the corner two minutes ago, but the vase was something you could remember, so you took a mental note of that and other little things that would serve for your safety, obviously. Because when Steve told you people would want you dead, you sort of didn’t expect those people would be in the house with you. 

You walked through the spacious kitchen and the adjacent dining room to find yourself in what looked like a meeting room, with around 20 men gathered and scattered all over the room. 

When Steve finally stopped, he let go of your hand, but he instinctively reached for you and pulled you against his side. You looked at him in slight disbelief again but didn’t say anything as he stared in front of himself till the room was as quiet as a freaking church during a sermon. 

“Let me make this very quick: however lays as much as a fucking finger on Y/N here, I will kill you, and I won’t give a fuck who you are. You were briefed that I’m getting married to the woman I want, and because somebody wasn’t paying attention to the fucking briefing, evidently, my fiancé is now sporting a black neck, which she will have to cover for our wedding. Drax, you and I will speak tomorrow, I was ready to kill you, but I’m a reasonable man, so I will sleep and think of your punishment then. Now, any questions?” He asked threateningly, and you knew even if somebody did have a question, nobody would dare to ask it now. 

And just as you predicted, the room was as quiet as before, and Steve waved his hand so that everybody was dismissed and they could breathe again. Just not in his presence. 

“Sam, you stay here,” Steve added when he saw one of his closest men leaving the room as well. 

“I will deal with him, Steve. I don’t know how that could have happened, but it won’t ever again, I promise. If it does, you can have my head, man,” the bulky man said and smiled warmly at you. 

“By the way, hi, I’m Sam. I’m like the muscles here, you know? So, if you need to pick something up, I’m your guy,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled but took his hand to shake it. 

“Nice to meet you, Sam, and I will remember that, thank you.” 

“Alright, now, we have all the pleasantries behind us, you can go back to your room and go to sleep. And Y/N, if anybody as much as looks at you the wrong way, you tell me, ok? This marriage might not be a genuine one, but none of these assholes knows that or should care about that. They should protect you just like they protect me, and I don’t care what they say. I can’t have my fucking wife scared to walk these halls,” he was still frowning as he was saying all this to you, but you could see he was much more relaxed than when all the men were in the room. These two, the sergeant whose name you still didn’t know, and Sam, were obviously close to Steve because despite the winks Sam gave to you, Steve didn’t make a scene, nor did he give you the pointed looks when others were around. Still, you were on thin ice, and there was too much drama for one day for you to try and challenge him in any way. 

“Ay ay, Captain,” you chuckled, and the corner of Steve’s mouth actually moved a little, so you took that as a good sign. 

“Alright, I will try and get back to my room and call it a day because tomorrow is an important day! So, nice to meet you, gentlemen, and I will see you soon, I guess,” you waved at them awkwardly, and Sam waved back enthusiastically as you left the men to themselves. 

“She is actually quite nice,” Sam summarized, and winked at Bucky, who just rolled his eyes at him in annoyance, having just enough of Sam’s antics for one day. 

“Yeah, yeah, she actually is, when she’s not talking back and challenging every fucking thing I say,” Steve complained, and it was a turn for both men to roll their eyes at their best friend. 

“Oh yeah, because you love when they’re meek and quiet, we forgot. C’mon, man, somebody fucking choked her today, and she was still standing here with her head held high, keeping it together like a fucking pro. I say she is perfect for you,” Sam said defensively when he saw the murderous stare from his friend/boss. 

Good thing Sam didn’t see you in your room because as soon as you closed the door behind yourself, the tears just streamed down your face, and small sobs left your lips. You were glad the day was over and dreaded what the next day would bring. 

Next Chapter >

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[jangofctts]

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy 

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.  

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn​ THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are. 

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that? 

Not much, as it so happens. 

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding— 

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail. 

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought. 

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in. 

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.            

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics. 

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…  

So you ran. 

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.    

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.  

Maker—how did everything become so tangled? 

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out. 

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift. 

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.  

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.     

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground. 

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.  

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and— 

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times. 

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving. 

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”       

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.   

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz. 

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now. 

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.      

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”  

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.  

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.  

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”   

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.   

“No more bounties.” 

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.  

“No more hunts alone—“  

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.” 

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.  

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”   

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”    

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”    

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire. 

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. 

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails. 

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”    

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.   

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.   

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.  

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.    

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble. 

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.      

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night. 

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over. 

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits. 

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.  

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.  

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.   

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.    

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you. 

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”       

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow. 

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—  

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.” 

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.  

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.       

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”  

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.        

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.   

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.   

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.     

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.   

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous. 

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”  

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh. 

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?” 

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”    

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers. 

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling. 

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal. 

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“ 

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.       

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.   

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.  

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.” 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.  

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.  

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you. 

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now. 

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"  

He continues without missing a beat. 

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck.  “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity. 

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.    

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly. 

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.   

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.   

Maker you hate this fucking planet—   

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up. 

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.           

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”    

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.      

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar— 

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.    

You were right. 

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand. 

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”     

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.   

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants. 

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought. 

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath. 

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.  

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.  

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward. 

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance. 

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.          

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.  

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs 

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips. 

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.” 

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up. 

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you. 

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.           

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.” 

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug. 

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.  

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.      

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.    

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.     

Another time for that game maybe. 

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you. 

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.” 

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.  

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.  

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works. 

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.      

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.” 

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind. 

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.  

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things. 

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim. 

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss. 

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue. 

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?” 

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.            

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent. 

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.   

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” 

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches. 

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.         

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been. 

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst​ @blue-writes-a03​ @max--phillips​

[chimmyrockbison]

MASTERLIST Updated 03/20/2021

COMPLETED AO3 FICS [Kim Taehyung/Park Jimin]

1. The Sound of Your Heart

Summary: There was something so easy about it, it was almost scary. Taehyung didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to feel this overwhelming fondness; but not unlike his head, his heart was hard to persuade once it had decided a path. And Taehyung was scared that it had decided on the mute new boy with pretty features and a warm smile.

Words: 144,014

2. All the King's Men

Summary: Castle servants Jimin and Taehyung find themselves involved in a game with the Crown Prince.

Words: 52,531

3. golden haze

Summary: Taehyung watches Jimin’s mouth twist into a pout, forming the word ‘fucking’ with his thick lips before he’s whipping out his translation device again. Taehyung doesn’t have time to stop him when various pornographic images pop up on his holographic screen, Jimin’s eyes widening with intrigue, his mouth falling open at the suggestive images in front of him.

(or: lonely college student taehyung harbors an alien fugitive in his apartment. nothing goes as planned.)

Words: 34,850

4. Drag'on Together (Love Is Its Own Magic)

Summary: “I swear to God, Taehyung if you stop to pick up one more rock because you think it might be some sort of rare stone, I’m leaving you here,” Jimin huffs as he tries to sound intimidating.

“Jiminnie, we both know you wouldn’t survive a minute without me, so stop with the empty threats, okay?” Taehyung replies, happily ignoring his dark-haired friend.

Jimin would argue, he would, if it wasn’t for the fact that Taehyung was right.

or

The time Taehyung and Jimin finds a blue rock and it turns out to be so much more.

Words: 30,554

5. even the weariest river

Summary: It's moments like this that make Taehyung panic. The open derision on each courtier's face, the scorn of his brother as he turns from his prey. The slit of Park Jimin's eyes, just barely open and dark and hateful, as Taehyung swallows and squares his shoulders and says—

"I want to claim him."

The tides of war change, and sweep Taehyung and Jimin along with them.

Words: 152,979

6. i fell in love with the pizza delivery guy (and then i blew him in the bathroom)

Summary: Send your best delivery guy. Preferably cute, preferably packing.

“You're the one who ordered me,” Taehyung says. Not exactly a question; more of a statement.

“Well, I ordered pizza; you just happen to be a delightful bonus,” Jimin clarifies, lips drawn up in a smirk that sets Taehuyung’s blood on fire in a most delectable way. “Although, had I known a pretty face like yours was working there...maybe I would have been more specific with my instructions. At least I know for next time.”

(or, Jimin orders pizza and a little something extra, and Taehyung delivers without really knowing what he's signing up for)

Words: 18,438

7. Grand Jeté

Summary: Refusing to spend another night alone, Taehyung surprises his perfectionist of a boyfriend Jimin at his dance studio with the intent of dragging him home. But their pent-up emotions from spending time apart has the visit ending with a lot of kissing and a little experimenting.

Words: 8,200

8. Already Midnight

Summary: On New Year's Eve, Taehyung is drunk. So drunk that he doesn't recognize Jimin as his boyfriend. When Jimin kisses him at midnight, Taehyung threatens to call his man- aka Jimin.

Words: 3,951

9. Worth The Risk

Summary: The rules are simple: no kissing on the lips, no petnames, no cuddling after sex, no sleepovers, no labels, and no catching feelings.

It should be simple. In fact, it would be simple, if it weren’t for one tiny thing...Taehyung is pretty sure he’s in love with Jimin. And that’s absolutely against the rules.

Words: 23,645

10. Common Ground

Summary: Taehyung is rich, a little bit bratty, a lot a bit spoiled, and failing calculus. Jimin works full time, tutors, and is a straight-A student. There's a rulebook somewhere that states very clearly that people like Jimin should never associate with people like Taehyung. But rules are meant to be broken. And opposites always, always attract.

Words: 44,136

11. This is not a dream

Summary: He would think they were ships in the night if not for the fact that every night, Jimin lays his head in Taehyung’s lap and Taehyung runs fingers without nerve endings through his hair. If they didn't have this false, teasing closeness long enough to learn every detail of each other's lives, long enough that Jimin is the person Taehyung spends the most time with by a mile.

(Jimin leaves. Two months later, he falls in love with Taehyung.)

Words: 12,370

12. Shooting Stars and Silver Moons

Summary: Yoongi and Jimin make a bet, Taehyung makes bad decisions.

(Or: "I'm kind of pissed you didn't choose me to fake date, I'm your best friend")

Words: 20,206

13. the whole world is blue

Summary: Taehyung is not going to confess. That kind of thing never ends well. The movies are wrong. It doesn't always turn out to be mutual. Real life isn't so romantic like that.

Words: 10,829

14. Swipe Right

Summary: As a best friend, Jimin will do anything for Taehyung. This includes being his fake boyfriend to ward off the unwanted attention Taehyung is receiving after using a dating app and agreeing to meet someone.

Words: 26,085

15. Define Me in Terms of You

Summary: This is either Taehyung's greatest idea, or his worst.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to teach you how to play guitar, join a fake band and enter a competition just so that you can impress a guy you like?"

Words: 9,808

16. i just adore you asking for more

Summary: Taehyung is a successful model looking for a discreet release. Jimin is a professional dom who won’t judge his browsing history.

Words: 90,201

17. Sirius

Summary: "Dude, our entire relationship could be an Ed Sheeran album."

Words: 16,955

18. it's your heart i wanna live (& sleep) in

Summary: The first time Jimin sleeps over at Taehyung's, it's an emergency. The other times after? That's a different story.

Words: 22,658

19. kissing up on fences (and up on walls, i don't want to fall)

Summary: They’ve always been close, Taehyung and Jimin. Where one went, it would be rare to see them without the other. This is a fact Namjoon knows better than most, having coexisted with them in close quarters for such a long time.

Namjoon had not, however, for all his proclaimed wisdom and prudence, had the foresight to see that they’d become this close.

(or: the five times the other members thought they were dating, and the one time jimin starts to wonder if they really are)

Words: 8,738

20. The Usual

Summary: Alternatively titled: The Regular

Jimin will date anyone, except for boys who serve coffee.

Words: 27,935

21. i'm so sorry but it's fake love (tbh, not really)

Summary: when chaebol/commitment anti-fan park jimin learns he's being married off, he does the smartest thing in the world: hire a fake boyfriend he found on the internet (aka Craigslist's personal ads)

all he needs is just three months with said fake boyfriend to convince his parents to leave him alone. after that, he'll get back to his regular programming.

except, not really.

Words: 209,565

22. Gravity//Oxygen

Summary: He already lost his parents.

He'll be damned if he loses Jimin's smile too.

We stay together.

Always.

Taehyung is out for revenge. And he'll do anything to get it.

Words: 180,321

23. A Screenshot of Youth

Summary: There’s a sharp intake of breath, Taehyung’s grip tightening over Jimin’s with a gentle squeeze. “Jimin,” his voice is serious, and Jimin watches him, strangely endeared. “Let’s be friends.”

And it’s like this, that they begin as friends in the heat of a sweltering summer, twelve years old and too young to think much of it, hands twined together under the blanket of a setting sun.

(In which Jimin and Taehyung grow up together.)

Words: 18,496

24. i'll take the desert, you take the coast

Summary: “Everyone I know is a candlestick nearing its demise. They’re afraid of bringing meaning into their lives, of cultivating that glow. But you, prince Park Jimin, you are different. You glow with the passion of more than a thousand suns.”

Words: 30,973

25. just to get a taste

Summary: The one where Jeongguk dares Jimin and Taehyung to kiss and it unravels a lot of feelings. But mostly more kisses.

Or the one where Jimin's heart is stupid and Jimin's best friend is actually irresistible. Who'd've thunk, huh?

Words: 24,375

26. tell them it's the end

Summary: Five months after Taehyung suddenly walked out on him, Jimin finds out that Taehyung has yet to inform his family, who absolutely loved Jimin, about their split.

Jimin tries to swallow his feelings as he once again “dates” Taehyung.

Words: 13,802

27. stay with you

Summary: Taehyung wondered why he always see this blonde man, getting wasted every night. Its such a shame seeing his pretty face wasting every single night of his life in this bar.

Until he saw his eyes, and he understood why.

(Or Jimin is broken and he wanted his happiness back.)

Words: 12,875

28. ring the changes

Summary: That's the nature of one-sided confessions. Things change.

Words: 45,248

29. summer, winter, spring (i'm falling for you)

Summary: The school starts to take notice of Jimin.

Taehyung has always noticed.

Words: 41,786

30. Make Me-al

Summary: In which Jimin starts to work at Jin's restaurant and there he meets Taehyung, the new rookie waiter that kinda gets him off his nerves (the feeling is mutual). Yet, the tension between them is hotter than the ovens from the kitchen...

Words: 26,886

31. such stuff as dreams are made on

Summary: "sir no one, may i have this dance?"

or: kim taehyung, a kitchen boy, sneaks into a royal masquerade. park jimin is the prince he never expected.

Words: 38,753

[ikleesfiction]

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 2,409 words Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4 🞂 Part 5

Part 6

It's been a few days since your date night with Jay. It went much better than you expected. You knew from the start that Jay is a good guy and probably a sweet lover too. But after that night, you found out that there's more to him than his good look and easy-going attitude. Jay's gentleness soothes your insecurities. His understanding warms you from inside. It's hard to feel miserable when he's around. You cannot help but latch on to him.

You and Jay keep texting and calling each other every day, but you only got to meet him once since then. For a coffee date before he ran to work while you went for your PT session. His job doesn't leave a lot of spare time, so you relish all the time he spends with you.

You hear your phone rings when you have your lunch. There is a video call request from your best friend and work-mate, Alex. "Hey, you! I miss your stupid face!" you greet him.

"You know what's not stupid?" Alex ignores your greeting. "The new material I received this morning

He refers to an email you sent him last night. Instead of sleeping, you wrote some lines and tinkered some notes on your electric keyboard. It was still very rough, but you and Alex swap ideas all the time. They could be a bar of melodies or chord progressions. Or maybe a single line that you cannot get out of your head, even there's no context to it.

"Wanna work on it soon?" Alex proposes.

"Yeah, sure!" you easily agree.

"You know I'm gonna ask how you come up with that song idea, right?" Alex probes further. He got an idea about your sudden burst of inspiration, but you haven't told him anything yet so far.

"You can ask. I might not answer", you nonchalantly retort. "Are you asking now?"

"I would, but I just arrived at my parents' house for our weekly dinner", Alex turns his camera phone and shows you his family dining table. "Say hi to Y/N, Pop" He lets his parents know that you're on the phone.

"Hallo, Liefje" Alex's parents greet and wave at you. "I miss you, Y/N. How are you doing, darling?" Alex's mom squeals at you.

"I miss you guys too. I miss home," you utter mournfully.

"I saw your dad last week. He and your mom cannot wait to have you back home next month. As are we." Alex's dad informs you.

Your face gets even more upset. "I haven't told my parents yet, but it's gonna be another two months. It's not working out as good as they wanted"

Alex's parents let out a sympathetic noise. "Oh great, I still have two more months to hide all my chocolate from you" Alex teases you instead. He knows if he doesn't throw any humor here, you're going to weep. The family laughs at your offended look.

"Where's Sara?" you ask them when you didn't notice Alex's little sister on the table.

"She's getting ready for a date after dinner. Said they will go stargazing. Can you believe it?" Alex skeptically recounts to you.

"Hmm, that sounds romantic. Good for her." you hum your appreciation. Alex can see twinkles in your eyes.

"Of course, you thought it was charming", Alex sounds vexed.

"Why are you so grumpy about this? You have a hit song that compared someone's eyes with the moon", you remind him. "Last time I checked, that song already got more than 400 million streams on Spotify". Alex just grumbles incoherently, while you can hear his father's booming laugh in the background.

"Alex, would you please call your sister down for dinner?" Alex's mom orders him.

"Alright, ma. Gotta go, Y/N. I'll call you later when I'm back at the studio. Bye, sis!" Alex ends the call.

◢◤

Kelly Severide comes to your place in the evening after he finished his shift. He called you on your cell several times, but you didn't pick them up. He knocked on your door for a few minutes without answers. Worried that something bad happened to you, he uses his key to open your apartment door. You gave him a spare when you began your recovery from the incident. Since you got nobody in town except for the 51 Family, you thought at least one of them should have access to your place, in case you need help.

Kelly sees you sitting on your corner desk with headphones on. Your head is nodding to the beat you're working on. Relieved to know you okay, but feels a bit annoyed, Kelly taps your shoulder lightly. You jump in surprise, almost fall from your chair if Kelly doesn't hold you down.

"Kelly! What..! Why are you..??" your heart is still pounding in shock, makes you unable to finish your thoughts properly.

"I knocked! And called you many times! Neither you answered! I was afraid that you fell and unconscious so I used my key", Kelly exclaims.

You check your phone and see seven missed calls from Kelly. "Sorry, I left my phone on mute, somehow"

Kelly goes to raid your fridge and takes a bottle of apple juice. "Your fridge needs beers" he judges. "Go, get ready! We'll hang out at Molly's. Everyone misses you", Kelly orders you.

"I'm working, Kelly. Just because my work has no shifts, doesn't mean I can go anytime you want", protest you.

"You work for your best friend, who's in another continent right now. You can slack off for a bit" he dismisses your complaint.

"I'm making big progress here. My writing juice is flowing", you point at your laptop.

"One hour. I give you one hour to work. Then I'm hauling you out of here. In the meantime, I'm gonna order take out for us", Kelly decides.

You only mumble your disagreement, knowing that you're gonna lost the argument anyway. So you just put your headphones back on your head. However, Kelly pokes you again five minutes later, with his phone on hand, "Hey, do you want Thai or Greek? I'm in the mood for Greek right now", Kelly playfully asks you.

"Yeah, Greek is fine" you start to feel bothered.

He leaves to order the food while you're back to do your work. Ten minutes passed, Kelly drags a chair from the kitchen island to your side. He knocks on the table to catch your attention.

"Hey, I just remember, Brett said they saw you rescued somebody at the swimming pool last week. How did that happen?" he questions.

You let out a desperate sigh. "You're not going to let me work in peace, are you?"

Kelly just grins. "C'mon, we haven't hung out for a while. Lots of drama to share"

You save your work in defeat and then move to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Kelly sits on the couch with legs resting on the coffee table. You place yourself next to Kelly.

"They extend my therapy for another month" you restlessly play with your bottle cap.

"Is it not going well?" Kelly asks in concern.

"I got cramps that day at the swimming pool. They worried I damaged something. So they prefer to be cautious" you fill him in.

"That's when you rescued Dr. Manning's son " Kelly tries to clarify.

"Well, I just pulled him out of the water. The pool guard was the one who helped him breathe" you shrug.

"You assisted. It still counts as a rescue", Kelly insists. "Bet if Dr. Manning knew, she would buy you drinks at Molly's forever"

"More like got invited to dinner at their place," you mutter.

"Hmm, that's probably true" Kelly pauses for a moment, thinking. "Wait, did you meet her?" he grills you.

"Yeah. And her fiancé. I came to the hospital to check on Owen. Then next thing I knew I'm having family dinner with Manning/Halstead clan", you convey to him.

Kelly's phone chirps interruptedly. "Food's here" He goes to pick up the food from the delivery guy. "Alright, let's eat then we can go to Molly's"

◢◤

Jay is nursing his first beer as he watches Will bottoms up his third glass of whiskey. Will called him earlier in the evening, claimed that he needs bro night out after a shitty day at Med. Jay's initial plan to have dinner with you got scrapped before he even asked.

"Maybe you need to pace yourself, Will", Jay suggests to him as Will signs to Otis for a refill.

"Yeah, Doc. Maybe you want to switch? We have a nice Dutch craft beer chilling here", Otis offers. But Will is still holding out his empty glass to him, silently demanding for more. "Okay then" sighs Otis as he fills the glass.

Jay hears the commotions at the other end of the bar. He recognizes some people from Firehouse 51 there. Christopher Hermann is cackling, while Matt Casey grins widely. They pay attention to someone that is sitting among the group, but he cannot see who because Severide is blocking his view.

Jay checks his phone while he finishes his beer. He received a text from you beforehand, told him that she's going out to meet her friends tonight. He texted back, wishing her to enjoy her night out, but got no replies. Will notices Jay's scrolling on his phone and asks, "Do you need to go back to work?"

"Nah, just checking my texts" Jay puts his phone back in his pocket. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Not in the slightest. But I still have to go to work tomorrow. If I wanna do better than today, I cannot do that with a hangover" Will sulks. "Hey Gabby, I would like to try that craft beer Otis suggested" he requests to Gabby who passes by.

"Would you like one as well, Jay?" Gabby offers him.

"Alright, why not.." Jay accepts the new bottle.

"Is this a new batch? Don't think I ever have it here before", comments Will after his first sip.

"Yeah! Just start to come in this month. It's a friend's favorite. She hooked us up with a supplier directly from The Netherlands. You like it?" Gabby enthusiastically claims.

"It's good. But still not Bourbon", Will pouts. Jay lets out a snort while Gabby snickers.

Jay looks around the bar as he savors his beer. He paused when he thought he saw you sitting among the 51 Gang. Will notices and looks in the same direction. "Is that Y/N?" asks Will.

Jay stands up for his seat, "I'm gonna go say hi to her"

◢◤

You feel a palm pressed to your back as you hear someone's saying from behind, "Didn't expect to see you here tonight"

You turn your back immediately as you realize whose voice it is, "Jay!" shout you excitedly. You open your arms to hug him. Jay lands a chaste kiss on your lips before hugs you back.

Kelly and Matt look at each other over your head with eyebrows raised. "Well, that's something I didn't expect" goads Kelly.

"Severide, Casey" Jay gives them an acknowledging nod with his hands stay on your hips.

"How do you know each other?" Matt asks curiously.

Jay opens his mouth to reply, but you hear Will's interruption, "You guys finally made it, huh?" Jay rolls his eyes at his brother.

"These guys have been sending heart-eyes at each other since they first met" Will tips off the 51 gang. "Which I arranged, by the way. But this result was unintentional"

"No, we're not!" you try to deny.

"I was there, Y/N, at your almost first kiss" Will divulges.

"Oh my god!" you hide your blushing face behind your palms. Jay smacks a kiss on the side of your head, amused while the group makes fun of you.

"I guess this happened after Y/N rescued Owen?" Sylvie asks to confirm.

"Ooooh yes, our next year candidate!" Hermann yells. The others just clap and whistle in response. You thud your head to the bar table, abashed.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. We are proud of you" Casey remarks. "That said if you want to go to the academy..." he continues.

"Nuh-uh, I love my job, thank you very much" you quickly state.

You spend the rest of the night beside Jay, chatting and laughing with 51 Family and Halstead brothers until you let out a big yawn. "Tired?" Jay asks you softly.

You nod, "Beer always made me sleepy"

"Let me settle the tabs, then I'll take you home" Jay squeezes your shoulder as he stands up.

Kelly observes you and Jay throughout the night. When Jay left your side, he lowly speaks to you after making sure everyone else is busy conversing elsewhere. "So Jay Halstead is the one who got your juice's flowing, huh?"

"Kelly!" you slap his arm, agape.

"I mean your writing juice! You said it earlier!" Kelly yelps, but his smirk contradicts his words.

"You're the worst" you just shake your head.

Kelly's face turns serious for a moment, "Does he know about your situation?"

"What situation?" you try to sound innocent, but Kelly just gives you a look.

"Told him about the collapsing stage" you deflated.

"Have you told him that you're leaving in two months?" Kelly pushes.

"It's still too early. Who knows, Jay might end this soon", your voice sounds unsure.

"Don't think so. He looks quite smitten by you. Should probably tell him soon", Kelly disagrees.

"I'm happy right now, Kels. Can I just enjoy this for a while?" you start to lose patience with him.

"He deserves to know" Kelly persists.

You look down at the table, your fist is clenched in frustration. Jay comes back and notices the tense atmosphere. "Is everything okay?"

You reply with a forced smile, "Yeah, let's get out of here" then stand up from your seat and give Kelly a quick hug, "Thanks, Kels"

You move to say goodbye to the rest of the group, which takes a bit of time since everyone wants a hug or has something to tell you.

"C'mon guys, my boyfriend has waited long enough" you cry out when Sylvie and Gabby hold you back from going. The group guffaw even louder and playfully nudges Jay, who just beams brightly at you.

"Good night, guys!" you casually shout, finally getting away from the rest of the group, with Jay's hand in yours.

Next on this fic : Part 7

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

[fallingappleshurt]

Snow Boys Incorporated (Part 2/2)

Check out part one! It’s kind of poggers :))

I can’t add links but yeah!!

Pure fluff oh yeah

Tommy was washing his hands when Techno walked over with his phone out.

“Hey guys, I just got a text from Skeppy, you know that huge snowball fight he tries to plan out every year?”

“Oh yeah, that thing,” Wilbur said and Tommy felt his heart jump.

“This year he actually got people to join, it’s in the weird field thing behind the school.”

“By the woods or the shopping center?”

“The woods, he’s actually got a decent amount of people-” Techno turned his phone around, showing them a blurry picture of a bunch of people from school, making forts, with Skeppy’s face in the corner of the frame.

“Do you guys wanna go?”

“Yes!” Tommy grinned, “I’m going to beat the shit out of you guys!”

“In your dreams!”

After telling Phil about it, and after he agreed to go, they grabbed their stuff and piled into the car.

“This oughta be interesting,” Phil commented.

“Wait Phil are you gonna be joining in?” Tommy asked, leaning forwards in his seat.

“Of course-” Both Techno and Wilbur groaned.

“But you’re old!”

“What!” Tommy could tell Phil was trying to restrain himself from whipping around while Techno and Wilbur laughed.

“These are a bunch of high school kids, you might-”

“Tommy how old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know- I just know you’re old,”

“Tommy- Phil has amazing aim- I’ve been at the receiving end of it, trust me, you want him on your side,” Wilbur said, adjusting his beanie.

“Sure-”

“He’s telling the truth Tommy, you don’t want Phil coming after you,” Techno backed Wilbur up.

“Uh- Phil-”

“Nope, uh uh, too late Gremlin.” Phil said, parking the car. Tommy realized they had made it, got out of the car, and looked over to the field. It was complete pandemonium.

Snow was flying everywhere, people were shrieking and laughing, Quackity wasn’t wearing a coat, for some reason. Random students were wrestling, some were trying to take pictures but failing spectacularly.

He spotted Tubbo hiding behind a pile of snow, nailing unsuspecting people as they ran by.

Phil stood next to him and cracked his knuckles.

“You want a head start or-” He was cut off, sputtering, as someone flung a fist full of snow in his face. Tommy looked over and saw Wilbur backing away.

“Wilbur-” He started, but Wilbur turned around and started sprinting. Phil, after overcoming the shock, was right on his heels.

“Thank me later!”

Tommy laughed and ran across the field towards Tubbo, diving next to him, “Who are we aiming for?” He asked immediately, starting to form a snowball.

Tubbo didn’t even flinch as he aimed for someone across the field.

“Fundy, he ate my leftovers-”

“Oohhh yeah! Come here furry boy!” He chucked a snowball at the first gingery looking thing he saw- which did happen to be Fundy. They worked as a unit, taking turns building up the little walls of their fort and chucking snow at everyone in the vicinity.

At one point Punz ran by and threw an arms load of snow on them, they retaliated just as fiercely.

The whole scene felt surreal, Techno was chasing Quackity, bombarding him with snowballs, Skeppy and Bad were shaking trees to get snow to fall on others. Karl and Sapnap laying in the snow while Dream and George kept trying to get snow down each others shirts, Phil and Wilbur were no were to be seen, Niki and Eret were building snowmen off to the side.

Tommy knew he should have kept a lookout for Phil once he was hit in the back of the head with a snowball. He turned around and saw Phil, rearing his arm back again, Wilbur just behind him, face red with snow in his hair.

“Wilbur!”

“Phil said he’d spare me if I helped him take you down-”

“You-” He was cut off as Phil nailed in the face with another snowball, shrieking he tried to run but kept getting hit.

“Phil! Big man! Big P! Let's talk about- Ah! Let’s talk about this!”

He slipped, landing in a snow drift, he rolled over and was face to face with Phil.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I called you old!” He threw his arms up in defense, Phil laughed.

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god-”

“It was so hard because you were beatin’ me with-with snowballs!”

Phil rolled his eyes as Wilbur jogged up to them, Tommy immediately started in;

“Wilbur you bitch! You betrayed me! I was just attack-”

“You think you got it bad? That whole time he was just chasing me! I had too!”

“Oh sure you did- couldn’t take a few snowballs!”

“Wait wait wait- shush,” Wilbur put a finger up to Tommy’s face, pulling out his phone, “I need to get this on video.”

“Get what?”

Wilbur nodded vaguely towards the hill Skeppy was standing at the base of it, watching as the fighting slowly stopped, people starting to tire. Coming down the hill behind him was Techno, a huge mound of snow in his hands.

“He told me he was going to do this- I wanted to get it on video,” Wilbur whispered, pressing the start button and zooming in on Skeppy.

Tommy watched Techno take a running start then leap up and smash the snowball on Skeppy’s head. Techno crashed into Skeppy, sending them both to the ground.

Skeppy shrieked as Techno rolled off of him, looking around like a mad man until spotting Techno and jumping at him, another chase ensued as Skeppy tried to catch Techno and get the snow out of his jacket at the same time.

They eventually both collapsed in the snow, too tired to continue their ‘fight’ as it were. The field was starting to disperse as the sun set, people calling or asking for rides and climbing into cars with friends.

Tommy followed his brothers to the car, shaking snow out of his hair, Techno beat him to the front seat so he had to sit in the back with Wilbur.

“What do you guys want to do for dinner?” Phil asked, starting up the car.

“There’s a frozen pizza in the freezer,” Wilbur offered, Phil nodded,

“Good because I do not want to cook,”

Wilbur unlocked the apartment door and started the oven before going to change. Phil had managed to corner him and relentlessly chuck at shit ton of snow on him, his clothes were half soaked.

After changing and putting the pizza in the oven, he flopped down on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Tommy walked over and half laid on him, despite Wilbur’s attempts to shove him off, “Get your nasty feet off of me!”

“We should watch a movie,” Tommy said, completely ignoring him.

“You should get off of me,” Wilbur responded, though he had stopped making any effort to shove him away.

“Come on, we should watch a movie, we could watch The Grinch-”

“No,”

“What about Elf?” Phil called from the kitchen.

“Why are you guys only suggesting Christmas movies-” Wilbur was interrupted by Tommy kicking him in the stomach, he wasn’t sure if it was an accident or not.

“What kind of question is that? It’s almost Christmas, why wouldn’t we watch a Christmas movie?”

“I-I don’t know, just put the movie on,” Wilbur slumped even further into the couch as Tommy grabbed the remote.

A moment later Techno nudged Wilbur’s head with his elbow, “Here,” He passed him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Hot chocolate and pizza, such a great combination,” Tommy teased, reaching out for a mug but Techno pulled the mug away.

“So you don’t want any?”

“No! No! I do! Give me some!” He grabbed the mug and chugged some, then pulled away, “Shit- I burned the roof of my mouth!”

“Tommy you know it’s called hot chocolate for a reason, right?”

“Shut up, you pink asshole,” He grumbled, queuing up the movie.

A few moments laters Phil brought in the pizza and set it on the coffee table along with plates and napkins. Wilbur grabbed a slice and accepted the fact that Tommy wasn’t going to move and settled in to watch the movie.

They were half away through it when he realized that Tommy was asleep and felt himself getting tired as well, he put his mug on the table and spread out a blanket evenly across them. It was at the scene when Buddy and Jovie were running around New York that he too fell asleep.

Wilbur blinked awake, feeling Techno and Tommy shuffle besides him, and hearing the coffee maker brewing. He glanced over and saw Phil was gone and their dishes from last night cleaned up. He sat up, yawning, lightly pushing Tommy off of his shoulder, who grumbled and pulled at the blanket.

Wilbur slowly got up, trying not to disturb his brothers but knowing it was fruitless, Techno had glanced at him with blurry eyes before rolling over. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, then going into his room to grab the gifts he had gotten for his brothers then set them under the tree.

After about 30 minutes of aimlessly scrolling through the same 3 apps on his phone Wilbur saw Techno sit up and grab for his glasses.

“You have Phil’s gift right?” He asked, Techno nodded, half rolling off the couch. He walked into his and Tommy's room, coming out with an armload of gifts.

“I know where Tommy likes to hide his gifts,” He said, setting them under the tree.

Tommy woke up while Techno was in the kitchen getting coffee, he got up and went to grab Phil, pulling him back into the living room just as Techno was sitting down.

“Alright, are we doing gifts?” Wilbur asked, sitting up right in his chair.

“Yes! Here,” Tommy said, shoving a box at him, “This is from me and Techno!”

Wilbur took the box, ripped off the wrapping paper and inside was the ugliest Christmas sweater he had ever seen. It was bright red with muted green sleeves. White patterns of strange animals and misshapen snowflakes were covering it and right across the chest it said ‘Shame’.

“What the fuck is this?”

Techno snorted as Tommy cackled, “It’s the best thing we have ever bought-”

Phil laughed loudly, “You should try it on Wil!”

“No- where did you even get this?”

“Oh come on Wilbur!”

“No!”

“Pleaseeeeee,”

“Oh my god fine,” He slipped the sweater on over his head, the material scratched at his skin.

“You look fantastic Wilbur,” Techno commented, Wilbur glared at him.

Phil handed him a small bag which had guitar picks and extra strings, Wilbur took it happily.

Techno was next, Wilbur gave him a gift bag, excited to see his reaction. Techno pulled out the tissue paper then covered his eyes with his hand, pushing his glasses into his hair. After a moment of silence he finally asked;

“Wilbur did you get me a fucking build a bear again?”

“Yes.”

Techno pulled the stuffed animal out of the bag, it was a fluffy pig with a cardboard crown and a red robe.

“Their name is ‘Auriculaire’,” Wilbur said, trying not to mess up his french accent. Techno narrowed his eyes, “I’m gonna kill you-”

“Come on! It means ‘Pinkie’!”

Techno groaned but didn’t let go of the pig and Tommy handed him a small white box, Techno opened it and pulled out a plastic brown horse with sparkly purple nail polish covering it’s hooves.

“Tommy what the fuck,”

“I got it from Tubbo’s little sister, it’s one of her old toys, she said I could take it but it needs a name-”

“Carl.” Techno interrupted immediately, rolling the horse around in his hands.

Phil raised an eyebrow, “Carl?”

“Yes, Carl,”

“Alright then.”

Techno chucked a long, thin box at Tommy, who tore into it, pulling out a foam Minecraft sword.

“Wow, thanks,” He said flatly, though he was still playing with it between his hands.

“Of course,” Techno said as Wilbur passed another box to him. Tommy rolled his eyes, opening the box then stopped.

“What- This is so cool!” He pulled a Letterman jacket out, turning it around in his hands. Wilbur grinned, it was mainly red with white arms and cool designs on the sleeves, it was perfect for Tommy.

“Wilbur- Thank you- This is awesome!” Tommy immediately put it on, wiggling his shoulders.

Techno turned to Phil, and pulled out an envelope with a green bow on the end, “So, we have one gift to you, it’s from all of us, but it’s a big one,”.

Phil took the envelope and opened it, pulling out it’s contents he stopped, reading the paper over and over again.

“Did you guys actually get me this?” He asked, eyes flickering between them and the page. Techno nodded, Wilbur was smiling so hard the sides of his face were hurting.

Wilbur had worked over time at his job, Techno and Tommy had scraped and saved their money, Techno had beat Skeppy in so many bets, and together they were able to get enough money to get Phil a skydiving pass.

“You told us about how you had done it before and how you wanted to do it again, so, we got you this,” Tommy explained, Phil smiled.

“Thank you guys, thank you.”

“Of course, it’s the least we could do-”

“Tommy where is the other gift?” Techno hissed, Tommy gave him a confused look before getting up and running back into their room, coming out with another box.

“One more!” He said, leaning over the couch, passing it to Phil, who opened it and froze.

“How did you guys find this?” He asked quietly, pulling a white and green striped bucket hat out of the box, running his fingers along the brim.

“We check every single store in the area,” Tommy said.

“And when that didn’t work we went online,” Techno finished, Phil had a watery smile on his face, “Thank you guys so much.”

And that was their Christmas, Wilbur and Tommy playing smash in their new jackets and sweaters, Phil watching on the sidelines wearing his hat and Techno sitting behind them, teasing them with Auriculaire under his arm.

And Wilbur wouldn’t change a thing.

[entityattheendoftheroad]

Demon’s bleed too, bitch.

Part one

Tw: Cheating, blood, mentions of a knife, mild violence, angst,  Derealisation

word count: 1.9k

You and Beel had hit it off as soon as you arrived in the Devildom, sure Mammon was protective over you but, he was often busy with photo shoots and hiding from debt collecting witches and was more like an older pain in the ass brother. You were both fairly sporty and your hunger was almost as strong as his after workouts, causing you guys to run into each other in the kitchen often, causing you guys to start working out together and hanging out more in turn causing a soft spot for the tall ginger demon. The rest was history.

---

Directly after school you sprinted back to the house, with the plan of surprising Beel after his practice with food you had prepared for him. You had to hurry though, because even though practice was long that just meant that he’d be even hungrier. Still sprinting without even looking where you were going, you ran into Simeon in the halls, nearly tackling you both to the ground, but him catching you both before you had the chance to fall. “Whoa there MC where you off to in such a hurry?” The mildly concerned angel said with a smile. You beamed back him just as brightly, “perfect, a helper!” Grabbing his wrist and tugging him along the way to the kitchen.

 When you had arrived you tossed him an apron and washing your hands, “Beel has practice today, I wanna surprise him at the end up practice with some burgers and..” Simeon nodded in understanding. “I’ve helped Luke bake enough that I know my way around the kitchen well enough, where do you want me?” You gasped, and smiled “Thank you,thank you, thank you, thank you.” Squealing at Simeon. “Can you do the prep work for the toppings, while i work on cooking the burgers?” He just nodded and headed towards the fridge, grabbing ingredients, as you headed to a different fridge to grab the meat for the burgers. Combining the spices, meat and eggs to bind the patties together, forming them thick, wax paper between each. After finishing forming them all you needed to do was cook them, slapping them on the preheated griddle. 

Then checking to see how Simeon was faring, the tomatoes cheese and pickles all finished, all he needed to do was the lettuce. “Your knife skills are incredible Simeon!” Admiring at how everything was completely uniform and genuinely looked like it was prepared by angel. “Thank you lamb, I’ve had alot of practice.” He smiled graciously at the compliment. “Those burgers smell delicious MC.” Inhaling the scent. “Thanks it’s a human realm recipe.” Giddy from the praise you were receiving from the angel. Turning back to flipping the burgers listening to the savoury sizzle on the griddle, “mmmmmm, hey Simeon can you pass..” Simeon already by your side passing you the plate of cheese. “Yes?” Smiling cheekily at predicting your movements. Laughing, “thank you, i’m so glad to have you as a friend Simeon,not just because you’re an angel, but because even if you weren’t, you’d still be as kind and understanding as you are now, whatever you were.” Smiling up at him, seeing his eye’s sparkle at you. Placing a hand on your head, “I’m glad to be your friend too, MC.”

After finishing making and wrapping every burger, you offered one to Simeon. “It’s the least I could do after all your help,” Shifting the hefty bag on your shoulder. “You can take another Luke if you’d like,” warmly smiling at the angel. “Thank you, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Giving you a head pat and taking the burgers. “You’d better hurry though, I think his practice is gonna end soon.” You checked the clock on the wall. “Oh no! Simeon I gotta go thank you so much for your help today.” Rushing out of the house of Lamentation and towards the school. 

Recognising some of Beel’s team mates leaving the school, “hey have you guys seen Beel?” Asking Inquisitively, looking at the tall, built Demons. One of them scratching their heads thinking, “Uh yeah earlier at practice but, he said he had to leave early, had to go do something, dunno what though.”  Scrunching your eyebrows looking down. “I wonder why he didn’t tell me about having plans.” Looking back up and you had realised that they were gone. Eliciting an exasperated sigh from you. Pulling out your phone and texting Beel.

MC: Hey babe, wya? ;)

Beelzebabe <3: I’m at practise, wdym muffin?

Utterly confused, scrunching your eyebrows at the message, did his team mates lie?... Did he?

MC: Want me to stop by with some snacks?

Beelzebabe <3:Please don’t babe, i haven’t been doing that well with my playing and i’m already embarrassed :/

MC:Are you sure you don’t want me there?

Beelzebabe<3: yeah sorry muffin

MC: no it’s okay babe

Your stomach started twisting into knots, something didn’t feel right. Beel’s not hungry, his team mates saying he left early from practice, when usually he’d stay late to help the coach. Just call him yeah, that’ll call him that’ll calm your nerves. Your hand’s shaking a little as you press call, and the ringing just builds your nerves. You sigh in relief when you hear him.

“Hey muffin, what do you need?”

“I don’t need anything, I just missed you is al...”

“[groans]”

“Are you alright? You seem a little off today babe..”

“Huh? I do? Nah I’m alright I just got a little sore in practice coz coach pushed us hard today is all.”

“Are you sure that it you sound really out of breath.”

“Well yeah I just finished practice,”

In the background you can hear a voice say “just hang up already”

Eyes widening, you clasp a hand over your mouth.

“Beel who was that?”

“What do you mean MC?” Beelzebub practically panted out.

“Beelzebub I’m at the school, I wanted to surprise you with food and you’re not here. Tell me what’s going on, right now!”

The silence was deafening and he hung up.

You blinked, looking at your phone screen. Your boyfriend really hung up on you, your sweet, adorable, kind boyfriend. Had hung up on you. You walked back to the house of Lamentation in a shocked daze, covering the world in your eyes.

When you walked through the door, you were greeted with an awake Belphegor. Going completely unnoticed by you. “Hey MC, what’s wrong?” Looking at you quizzically, with a hint of a smirk. Looking off into the distance “I dunno, Beel’s acting weird, and i’m not sure as to why..” You say, even though going through your thoughts feels like swimming through fog. “Can I go to yours and Beel’s room?” Hopefully looking his eyes. “You wouldn’t want to it’s a mess up there.” Shrugging off your request. You tilt your head, “I’ve been in your guys’s room before, I know it is.” An exasperated sigh comes from the twin as he looks you up and down, smirking “Then go right ahead, MC.” You smile muted but gratefully at him and get a few steps before he says, “you won’t like what you see MC.” You look back at him, eyebrow raised. “I’m just saying it’s a disaster up there is all.” As you walk further you swear you hear him, “Human’s are idiots.”

When you get to his door, shaking like a leaf you turn the door knob.

Beelzebub’s naked and so is the demon, that he was face first between their legs. You dropped the bag of burgers, eye twitching. “Beelzebub.” They both froze and he turned to face you “MC it’s not..”. “We’re over.”Mono tone and staring blankly into his eyes, and closed the door behind yourself and hear a moan from behind it, your eyes widening and tears attempting to pull from your eyes, as Belphie walks around the corner to see you staring blankly and you turn your head to see him smirking at you, “not gonna lie I was expecting more of a reaction from you, kind of disap..”

Your fist collided with his nose, with a sickening crunch. Wiping his smug smirk off his face. Lowering your hand, as black blood began to dribble down from his nose. Eyes wandering to your fist he raised his fingers to below his nose, looking at his fingers the black blood covering covering them. “You may be a demon but, mother fucker you still bleed.” And you walk away from the demon still staring at his own blood.

You find yourself on the steps of Purgatory hall. You knock on the door with your still bloody hand. Solomon opening the door with an aggravated sigh. “What do you want Asm- oh it’s you, what do you want? And why do you smell so bad?” A look of awe and horror came across his face as he looked at your hand. “Did anybody see you?” You shook your head, “then get your dumbass in here before a demon does.” Pulling you in to and locking every lock on the doors. Pulling you towards the dorms, “What happened?” Looking at you with genuine concern, then started to look for and pull out ingredients. You sighed looking down at the ground, “I punched Belphegor,” his head snapping towards your direction, gulping. “I’m sorry must’ve heard you wrong. You... punched... who?” Looking at you, like you were a walking corpse. “Belphegor.” Grinding your teeth together, as he let out a pained sigh rubbing his temples, “Wh- wh-why why did you punch Belphegor?” Still rubbing his temples. “I caught Beelzebub cheating on me and Belphegor was being an asshole about it.” You winced as you said it, heart pounding thinking about the 2 brothers. “Oh,” Looking at you as tears started to escape your eyes, “I’m sorry MC. I’ll be right back okay,” placing a hand on your shoulder looking deep into your eyes, then leaving. Leaving you alone with your thoughts and tears.

Solomon came back with Simeon, as soon as he seen you crying dropped in front of you and cupped your face in his gloved hands. “MC may I do something?” You nodded, and he took off his gloves and placed his bare hands back onto your face. A blanket of calm and peace engulfed you, opening your eyes to see Simeon heart brokenly staring back at you with tears streaming down his beautiful face. “I’m so sorry, little Lamb” he croaked out. You worriedly start fussing over the angel, “hey, hey, hey, it hurts like a son of a bitch right now but I’ll be okay, things are going to be okay.” He smiled at you devastation still lurking in his eyes, he turned to stop looking you in the eyes. “I seen everything.”

 Your heart stopped.

“What do you mean everything?” Your throat dry and burning.

“Every experience you’ve ever had and the emotions with it.” Solomon said over his shoulder while mixing ingredients.

“Everything.” Simeon picking you up and wrapping his arms around you.

“I should be the sorry one, Simeon.” You whimpered into his chest, hugging him back.

Simeon pulled you away from him, fierceness blooming in his eyes and soft voice.

“It wasn’t your fault, it was never your fault.” Pulling you back into his warm, comforting chest.

You began to sob while he held you and stroked your hair.

[emwritesfootball]

Sotto Voce: Chapter Five | John McGinn

Word Count: 1,815 Warnings: overheard masturbation, teasing, oral sex (female receiving) A/N: Since this is the last chapter, I just wanna give a HUGE shoutout to @sammisze for encouraging me to actually post this (I wanted to keep it for myself but she made me realize I shouldn't), @meteora-fc for beta-ing this and loving Meatball as much as I do, and @lawsandother for just reading this and telling me how much she loved it before I ever put it out. I hope you've all enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it <3

- - -

John knows something is off the moment he steps through the door on Monday after training. He doesn’t know what it is until he hears voices coming from her end of the house, and he doesn’t think as he follows the noises.

Her bedroom door is open, but he doesn’t go in when he doesn’t see her. The voices seem to be coming from her bathroom and John can’t help but be a little jealous when he thinks she’s got a man with her, until he recognizes the sound of his own voice from one of his audios and his blood runs cold.

He pauses, the muted sound of a vibrator in the bathtub mix with her throaty whimpers and John’s dick twitches. When she moans his name, he doesn’t know what to think - does she actually know it’s him or is she just imagining the man speaking on the audio is him? - but he intends to find out when she comes out.

She hides her surprise well when she sees John lounging on the sofa after she gets out of the bath. She hadn’t heard him come home but she’d sensed his presence while she was having her soak, making sure she’d turned the volume up on TheScottishLad’s audio while she masturbated to his voice. It hadn’t done much for her except leave her more sexually frustrated than before, and she hated that her body craved an orgasm specifically from John at this point.

“Mental health day?” John asks nonchalantly when she emerges from her bedroom in short-shorts and one of his Scotland kits.

She’s acutely aware of how his eyes graze over her body in the outfit she’s chosen, breaking out in goosebumps as a thrill races down her spine and her pussy clenches around nothing. “Yeah.” She takes a seat next to him, and John instinctively moves her so that her legs are laying across his lap. “Sometimes you just need to sleep in, have a bath and a nice wank, ya know?”

John blushes, his ears tinging pink as his grip tightens almost imperceptibly on her knee. “I, uh, I heard.”

“Oh?” She feigns surprise, looking at him innocently. “Sorry - I can get loud sometimes.”

John clears his throat, swallowing hard at her innuendo. “I-It’s okay.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” he replies, not meeting her eyes.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Johnny,” she whispers in his ear, reveling in the power she holds over him right now. “Did you hear me cum?”

His eyes are glazed over with lust and she knows she has him right where she wants him. “I m-might’ve heard you, uh, moan my...name.” His accent is thicker now and there’s no doubt in her mind now that TheScottishLad is him.

“That’s because I was thinking about you when I got myself off,” she murmurs, dragging her nails down his chest. His breathing is ragged and she can feel his heartbeat under her fingertips and it drives her wild.

“You...you were?” He sounds stunned.

“Mmhmm,” she hums, nodding. “Besides...you’re TheScottishLad, aren’t you?”

John pauses, his eyes searching hers. “How did you find out?”

“Oh, Johnny,” she tuts, smirking. “You’ve got to learn to be more subtle.”

“I thought I was,” he pouts, and she resists the urge to lean down and kiss it away - they’re not there yet, even though she desperately wants to be.

“Actually, you were,” she amends, thinking about it. “I just know you too well. It took me a while to figure it out.” She pauses, leaning in. “So...do I get to see where the magic happens?”

“Depends on what you want.”

“I thought I made it pretty clear what I want,” she says, her hand drifting down his torso to cup his erection over his joggers. John’s eyes flutter closed and he lets out a low moan at her touch, the sound going straight to her clit.

“You’re being a tease, love.”

Those are the words she’s been waiting to hear directed at her since the moment he used the phrase in one of his recordings. “What are you gonna do about it?” She challenges, letting out a squeal when he abruptly gets up and drags her to his end of the house.

Her eyes go wide as she takes in the bedroom he’s transformed into his mini-recording studio. To anyone who doesn’t know better, it just looks like an elaborate gaming setup or some Twitch thing; to her, all she can picture is him getting himself off as he speaks, all those audio recordings reminding her exactly what he sounds like doing so.

“Wanna record with me?” He asks, suddenly seeming shy.

“What about the other girl?” She retorts, the jealousy popping back up inexplicably.

“What other girl?”

“The one you record with.” It sounds stupid now that she’s said it out loud, but John doesn’t make her feel stupid for it.

“I don’t have anyone else that I record with,” he explains, stepping towards her until he’s pinned her against the wall. “I always picture you when I make these.”

It’s her turn to be stunned. “R-Really?”

“Really.” He runs a hand up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “I’ve wanted you for months now - I’ve just been using these audios as a way for me to take care of some of my more sinful thoughts.”

“Does this mean you wanna tie me up?” She asks, her mind going to his most recent audio.

John smirks. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

“So,” she starts, looping her arms around his neck as she pulls him closer, “are you gonna kiss me or not, Johnny?”

He responds by finally capturing her lips in his, and she can’t help moaning into his mouth at how good it feels to finally be able to kiss him the way she’s wanted to for months now. His hands find her hips, pulling her flush against him so she can feel how hard he is for her.

They’re both breathing heavily when the kiss ends, and she knows she’s never been needier in her life, especially now that her body knows John’s going to give her an orgasm. “Are you going to let me record you?” He asks again, his expression serious.

“Yes,” she breathes, nodding. “Now?”

“If you want - or we can wait until-”

“Now. Now is good.”

John smirks. “You know, if we record, you’re going to have to be quiet for me, right?”

“I know.”

“Let me get everything ready.”

When the equipment is all set up, John picks her up and sets her down on the table. His hands reach under her shirt and she gasps when they slide up her bare torso.

“Can’t believe I finally have you like this,” he starts, and she instantly recognizes his recording voice. There are similarities to his normal speaking voice, but the timbre and cadence has changed just enough to be unrecognizable. “Your body feels just like I imagined it would. All those late nights stroking my dick and pretending it was your pussy but now I get to have you like this? Truly mine. Are you going to let me do everything I’ve fantasized about?”

“Y-” she starts to say but remembers she can’t so she just nods.

John visibly softens, tucking a lock of her hair as he leans in. “I can edit this out.” A pause as he switches over to his vocal personality again. “I want your verbal consent, love. Are you going to let me do everything I’ve fantasized about?”

“Yes, John.” She groans, biting down on her bottom lip. “Make me cum so many times I forget my name.”

His grin matches as hers. “With pleasure,” he replies, leaning in for the last kiss before TheScottishLad takes over once again.

“Oh, God, I love your body,” TheScottishLad says as John kisses his way down her neck, his hands sliding up her torso again. “I could spend days touching you and not get tired of you. You’re perfect.”

His words made her melt, and she knew he wasn’t speaking just as TheScottishLad - he was speaking as John McGinn, her friend and now-lover who she now knew had been thinking of her the entire time he’d been making these - and the knowledge made her heart race and her pussy drip.

“Perfect neck,” he continues, kissing his way down to her breasts. “Perfect tits.” More kisses down her stomach as he cups her pussy and she resists the urge to moan. “Perfect pussy. And it’s mine - all mine.”

All she can do is nod, arching her back as she spreads her legs for him. “Let’s get you out of these clothes so I can start making you feel good.”

He takes his time, making sure every sound of him undressing her is captured on audio. When she’s fully undressed, he steps back, his gaze raking appreciatively over her body. She feels so exposed yet so sexy at the same time, and it turns her on more than she thought it would.

“Are you gonna let me taste this juicy pussy?” He asks, kissing his way up from her knees to her thighs as she nods. Her hands find his hair and her hips buck involuntarily, the gasp that leaves her lips when his stubble scrapes over the sensitive skin barely audible. She mouths his name when he finally gets a taste of what’s between her legs. “Mm...addictive. You taste like honey, love, and I’m gonna need all that I can get,” he murmurs, his breath fanning out over her clit and making her walls clench around nothing.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my tongue,” John promises, slipping two fingers inside her slick entrance. “And then I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” He pauses, placing a sucking kiss to her clit that has her grip in his hair tightening. “And then...I’m just gonna make you cum until you can’t anymore.”

She brings her hand to her mouth, biting down hard on her palm so she doesn’t make a sound when her eyes roll back and her body spasms through that first orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praises as he slides his fingers out of her pussy, smirking as she lets out a breathy whimper both at the loss and the praise. Her eyes lock with his as she watches him suck his fingers clean. “What do you say we take this to the bedroom so I can really make you scream?”

In seconds, he’s flipped off all the recording equipment and saved a copy of their audio for him to edit later. She’s growing impatient, but only because she wants to finally have her way with him. “Done?” When he nods, she takes his hand, leading him to his bedroom. “Good, because it’s my turn now.”

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Two Weddings

Summary: Sonny and Victoria eloped, but ma makes them have a ceremony a year later. Fluffy fluff. 

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - Four Valentine’s

July 1, 2006

“You’re the one who wanted to sneak off and get married,” Sonny teased gently, his nonna and nonno’s wedding bands in a little box tucked into the pocket of his slacks. He could see the engagement ring he’d given her three weeks before shining in the sun as they stood on the steps of their childhood church. “We’re going to be late for lunch, but they’ll live.”

“I know. I’m just so excited. I’m muting my phone. I wanna just focus on marrying you.”

“You’re sure you wanna do this, Tor? I don’t want you to feel pressured to marry me. Father O’Malley hasn’t signed it, so it’s just a licence.”

“Dominick, it was my idea to elope,” she said, their fingers laced as they entered. They’d gotten their wedding licence the day before, giddy as they went to the courthouse. There was a 24 hour waiting period before they had the officiant and witnesses sign it. They went to visit Father O’Malley, the priest at the church they’d attended together as long as they could remember, and he understood why they were eloping. While moving in together was a part of their goal, the more they’d talked about it, the more they realized it would be nice to get married without having to balance the chaos of the Carisis. Mia was a kid, Teresa was tired from chasing Mia, Gina was away for school, and Bella had also just graduated. They’d be the second wedding and the only son getting married. Sonny wanted to focus on what they were promising each other. 

They seemed nonchalant towards marriage, but they only did because they’d always treated their relationship like a marriage. Each of them made decisions with the other in mind, with the kids and life they wanted one day at the forefront. She’d been worried when he went away to school, but her worries were quashed when he went to a party for the first time without her, calling her at one in the morning from the party to tell her how much better it would be with her. She’d known then they’d get married. Now he was in black slacks and a white button down with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows and his hair gelled back. When he snuck glances at her in her white sundress, he would catch her sneaking glances at him, and they’d both turn red. 

“Our newlyweds-to-be are here,” Sister Bernadette called, and soon enough Father O’Malley joined the trio at the altar with another nun to be the second witness. He was also wise, the nun setting up the tripod and video camera usually reserved for the church kids’ plays. We don’t want Gianna Carisi coming after us. Video may placate her. The marriage certificate and Victoria’s purse in a pew, Father O’Malley began. Both of them knew the format well, clutching each other’s hands. 

"Dominick and Victoria, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?"

“I have,” they said in unison, and she smiled as Sonny gave her hands a gentle squeeze, grin widening.

"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

“We are.”

“Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?"

“We are.” Sonny was already crying, and Victoria blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. That’d get to him more. He was the crier, not her. 

“Well, now it is time for the vows. Repeat after me-”

“Respectfully, we got this father,” Sonny said, and Victoria did cry when she heard his voice. It was thick with emotion, and the way he stared at her with a broad smile and watery eyes made her feel invincible. 

“Well, take it away, Dominick,” Father O’Malley chuckled softly, knowing they’d memorized them together. He could almost picture them saying them as they sat together studying. Sonny had already updated him on how excited they were each of the Sundays between scheduling their wedding certificate and today, speaking in hushed whispers away from his mother. Meanwhile, Victoria had been calling to ask questions, desperate to have everything in order.

"I, Dominick Carisi, take you, Victoria O’Toole, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

"I, Victoria O’Toole, take you, Dominick Carisi, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

“May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” Father O’Malley had known he’d be marrying these two soon, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Both of them had said their vows with shaky voices and broad smiles, and it was amazing to see the children he’d known so long ago marrying now and taking it seriously despite their age. “May the Lord bless these rings, which you will give to each other as the sign of your love and fidelity.” 

Sister Bernadette handed them each a band, smiling softly. Neither of them looked away from the other, and Sonny was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet when he spoke again. 

"Victoria, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." Sonny’s hand shook as he slid the ring on his hand, and a soft laugh escaped him as he looked back up at her. She wiped her eyes carefully, her hands more steady.

"Dominick, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Suddenly, Sonny was almost in motion, and Father O’Malley was tempted to wait to let him kiss his bride. Victoria had already pulled him closer, smiling wide enough her eyes were almost shut. It was the first time he’d seen her rival her new husband’s smile. 

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You can kiss her now, Dominick.” In a flash, his arms were around Victoria's waist as her hands went to his cheeks. He kissed her sweetly before pecking her lips again and again. Both of them were giddy, laughing, and Sister Bernadette cut off the camera. She promised to email them the video file by the end of the day, and Sonny couldn’t bring himself to remove his arms from Victoria's waist as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

“Thank you, father,” Victoria grinned. “I’m sure Ma will be planning a ceremony or reception or something soon. And I wanna go ahead and apologize for the fact she’ll yell at you.”

“I can take it,” Father O’Malley assured her. “You’d have gotten married anyway. And it was nice to see you two get married. And you got to focus on the marriage, not Gianna chasing you around.”

“We gotta get to lunch with them. Thank you father.”

“Congratulations, you two. I’ll see you for mass tomorrow.”

They walked outside, and Sonny was wrapping his arms around her tightly and spinning her as they both giggled. They’d both always known it would happen, and now they were married. He’d found an apartment, and they’d moved him in the week before. She’d packed her room at her mom’s house, and they’d move her in the next day. It was almost surreal because it almost felt like the unspoken was just official now. 

“We’re married,” he said, voice managing to be both ecstatic and reverent as he pressed his forehead to hers. 

“We are,” she beamed, her hands resting on his sides. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect, Victoria Carisi.”

“That sounds so good, Dom. I can’t wait to go change my name when the marriage certificate comes in.”

“I’ll come with you when you go to the DMV.”

“Ready to go tell Ma?”

“I’m ready to tell everyone.”

The drive was quiet, both of them just holding the other’s hand. Victoria watched him drive with a gentle smile, squeezing his fingers periodically as their neighborhood flew by. Was Ma going to guilt them? Of course. But she’d given him Nonna and Nonno’s rings. She knew as well as Father O’Malley and Sister Bernadette the inevitability of the marriage. The girls would all be sad there wasn’t a wedding and reception happening without Gianna’s pressure, but his dad would be relieved. Once he’d parked, he shot her a crooked grin. 

“Ready, Mrs. Carisi?”

“Ready, Mr. Carisi.” 

He held her hand in his, smiling softly as he felt the cool metal of his own ring pressed into his skin. It was reassuring like he hadn’t expected. Teresa and Mia opened the door, and the pair made their way through the Carisi girls, boyfriends, and kids before finding Ma in the kitchen. Bella followed them, and it didn’t take long for Victoria to realize she’d been the one to notice the rings first. The youngest Carisi daughter crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen wall as her Ma greeted her brother and Victoria. 

“Sonny, what’s that on Tori’s hand?” she asked innocently. “The left hand. You have something on yours too.”

Ma’s eyes flashed to Victoria’s hand, and he watched as she registered a potential engagement but then quickly saw his hand and started to process what had actually happened. He wasn’t sure if she was angry, hurt, happy, or a combination of the three. 

“If I don’t get to plan a ceremony, I’ll kill you both.”

“Father O’Malley did the ceremony. He filmed it for you,” Victoria said softly, hanging on Sonny’s arm. “But we can plan a reception.”

“Father O’Malley? So you had your church wedding without us?”

“Ma, we can renew our vows or something.”

“You’re damn right you’ll renew your vows.”

“So you’re going to be mad at Victoria and me instead of happy for us?”

“Of course I’m happy for you,” she said softly, gripping his arms and looking up at him with a gentle smile. “My cielo is married to our stellina. I expected the engagement when she turned eighteen. You’re just my babies, so you’ll be having a wedding later.”

“We love you,” Victoria smiled, giggling when Gianna pulled her and Sonny into a tight hug. She pressed kisses to the top of each of their heads, beaming. 

“And I love you both. It’s about time stellina is a Carisi.”

“She’s been a Carisi forever, ma.”

“She’s got the name now.”

“I know,” Sonny grinned. “Victoria Carisi is like the best name I ever heard.”

“When will you have the video?”

“Sister Bernadette said by tonight.”

“You email it to me. And you’ll check before you leave. If you get it while you’re here, we’re all watching, cielo.”

July 1, 2007

“He’s going to cry when he sees you, stellina,” Gianna smiled, pressing a maternal kiss to the top of her head. Her own mother was here, but she had settled in with Teresa and Gina for drinks. Gianna and Bella were helping with the small buttons along the back of the dress. It was strapless with a sweetheart neck, but there was sheer material with lace up to her collar bone and forming sleeves down each arm. She was rocking on the balls of her feet wanting to go to Sonny’s side.

“He always cries,” Bella teased. “But this time it’ll be because his wife is so pretty.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, hands smoothing the satin of the dress’s skirt. “It’s kind of nice having a ceremony for our anniversary. Makes it more like a celebration.”

“Stellina’s mom and I need to go sit. This our beautiful bride.”

“I’ll take care of her from here.”

The last time they’d been in this church for a Carisi family member’s wedding ceremony, it was Teresa and her husband’s. Sonny and Victoria had been middle schoolers, and Teresa had put them in the bridal party. It was almost surreal to know she’d be walking down the aisle alone. Her father wasn’t there to give her away, and it would feel strange to have a woman she rarely saw after she turned sixteen give her away. It had been days before Irene had even known her daughter was married. Bella and Tommy would be the last to walk, and Victoria stood behind them, fiddling with the ribbon of her bouquet. She knew he would think she was beautiful, knew she’d see his dimples and the glimmer in his eyes as he teared up, but some part of her was still nervous. They’d been on their own now for a year, but this almost felt like dress up, them pretending to be adults. Maybe life always would. People would be looking at them too. Center of attention wasn’t her strong suit. They had, however, learned a dance for the first dance, sneaking off to lessons after class and work.

Suddenly, Bella and Tommy were gone, and Victoria was beaming through the nerves as she waited for the bridal march. When it started, she stepped out, her eyes flying to Sonny when she made her way down the aisle. He was as happy as he’d looked when they eloped, and the suit looked perfect. He looked so handsome and sweet and kind, and the reality hit that he really was her husband. Maybe Ma had been right about a wedding. He had lit up, crying as everyone had predicted. She wasn’t the one to cry, but she quickly realized she was now. Sonny had worried his knees would buckle when he first saw her, and they nearly did. More than anything, he felt giddy as he watched her. She was beautiful everyday, but now, walking down the aisle to renew the promises they’d made to each other a year before? He wanted to sear the image into his memory. Some caveman part of his brain liked having an audience for their vows, as much so he could show off his wife as so they could celebrate with friends and family. Since they were already married, they decided to write their own vows when the time came.

“Victoria, I think I shoulda known I was going to marry you when you used to dare me to kiss ya when we were kids and then run off so I’d chase you. It kind of started this thing where I’ll chase you anywhere you want to go, including eloping the first summer we can so that Ma has to plan a wedding for two people who’ve already been married a year. I get to kiss you anytime I want now, though. That part is way better,” he started, his voice light, before he got more serious, hands clutching hers. “ I swear it’s only going to be you. The first and only woman I’ll ever want. No matter what happens, I promise to make you laugh, hold you when you cry, and only be scared of you when you’re driving. The best thing that ever happened is getting to build our life together. Being your husband has been an honor, and I promise to stick with you through the good and the bad.”

“Dominick, I remember when we were kids, I was in school and instead of saying the sky was blue, I said the sky was Sonny’s eyes colored. That’s probably when I should’ve stopped pretending you had cooties because it was probably a sign you were always going to be my favorite person ever,” she said, her voice not as strong as his was. He was used to getting emotional; she wasn’t. “When we were in New Orleans, I realized that the reason I hated every girl you went to a school dance with was because you were supposed to be my date, and that you were supposed to be my date because I wanted you to kiss me. I promise that I’m always going to be there for you, no matter what happens, good, bad, and in between. I’ll always make you cannoli when you’re stressed and celebrate when you’re doing well and be there however you need me when you’re sad. We’ve got forever ahead of us. I promise you won’t be able to get rid of me. You’re it for me.”

When he could, Sonny nearly flung himself at Victoria, arms around her waist pulling her close as he leaned in and kissed her deeply. He flung there clasped hands up with a crooked smile as they made their way down the aisle, meeting his mother and the photographer outside the church doors. They started taking photos, and Victoria wrapped her arm around Sonny, one hand resting on his chest.

“Hi Mrs. Carisi,” he hummed, hand resting on hers. 

“It still sounds really good,” she smiled, kissing him softly. “A few more pictures, then we go dance and eat.”

“You ready for our number?”

“Oh hell yeah I am. You ready?”

“Do I got two left feet? You bet. Am I excited to dance with my wife to the song we been singin’ to each other since we were kids? Oh yeah.” He kissed her temple, spinning her as he hummed “You’re my Best Friend” by Queen, and a squeal escaped her.

“Save it for the dance floor.”

“Anything you say, doll.”

“I love you, Dom.”

“And I love you, Tor.”

@cycat4077​

[artificialqueens]

I Can Feel it Through the Screen, Chapter 1 (Branjie) - Kiyo

A/N: first time writing Branjie so, seeking criticism xD. This is a Lesbian AU. And hopefully I'll have chapter 2 done quick if you like it.

////////

tick...tock...tick...tock

The clock hung on the wall kept ticking, each of them sounding longer than the other whilst Brooke Lynn mindlessly walked around her living room whilst the tv played some late night show presented by another old white dude. Sighing deeply, she finally sat on her couch.

Brooke could already feel herself slowly falling asleep when she sunk into the cushions. The seconds passed by, the TV finally turning off on it's own due to the lack of interaction, finally her apartment was completely silent, nothing but her own breathing could be heard yet she found it hard to relax and fall asleep.

Not that she tried to relax or was able to, Brooke was hyper fixated on everything in the darkly lit room, she couldn't stop herself. The only source of light being the moon shinning through her open window, the curtains floating slightly by the cold breeze entering, sending slight chills down the blonde's spine...

Brooke finally layed down, her head resting on her firm couch pillow, already hurting her neck. Once again, Brooke managed to find something wrong and it stressed her out. "Ugh.." She groaned, sitting up again, her eyes barely able to stay open as she reached for her phone that was promptly set upside down on the glass table placed infront of the couch.

She switched her phone on, slightly blinded by the light coming from it, rubbing her eye's with her free hand before proceeding to unlock it, typing the very original password '100386'.

And too Brooke's expectations, she'd received no texts, which was the only releaving thing she'd seen tonight. Not having to deal with anybody, as of right now was truly a blessing, that was until she opened instagram, seeing '16 DMs' at the top right corner of her screen, sighing, not knowing why she hadn't expected this, clicking on the little paper plane icon, seeing that 6 of those messages where from Yvie. '45 minutes ago', moment's like these, Brooke Lynn realized that muting instagram notifications wasn't exactly the smartest choice.

'Well, great.' Brooke Lynn thought to herself, sighing before beginning to read them.

-

Yvie Oddly: Brooke, do you still have those rings you showed me?

Yvie Oddly: Damn, you must be sleeping.

Yvie Oddly: nevermind about the rings, I found soething

Yvie Oddly: ****something

Yvie Oddly: I suck at typing

Yvie Oddly: Tell Vanessa I'm too busy to come over tomorrow, thanks, sry to bother u lmao

-

Right, Vanessa had planned this little party with a few of her friends, calling it 'Vanjie night', Brooke wasn't invited to it because it was suppose to be just Vanjie and her friends, and apparently the reason Brooke couldn't come was that they didn't want Branjie to be acting all cuddly and lovey dovey if they we're to come over. Brooke found it stupid, really, but she didn't protest, it wasn't that deep anyway, not that she wanted to go to thay stupid hang out party anyway.

-

Brooke Lynn Hytes: Sure, I'll tell her.

-

Brooke replied before throwing her phone at the other side of the couch before realizing she probably needed to text Vanessa now. Great- with a loud huff accompanying the action, Brooke reached for her phone again. Unlocking it and going back on Instagram. Seeing Vanessa was online, thank god, she wouldn't need to wait forever for her to respond.

-

Brooke Lynn Hytes: Hey, Yvie said she'd be too busy to go to your little party.

VANESSA VANJIE MATEO: Oh, aight, she could've just texted me instead of bothering you, sorry boo <3, anyways, how u doing? I didn't get my usual hearts accompanying yo texts, u actin weird blondie

Brooke Lynn Hytes: Sorry, just a little tired, I forgot to put them. 💞💘💖💗

VANESSA VANJIE MATEO: I feel your negativity through my screen, whats up? I know this is not some tired story bullshit

Brooke Lynn Hytes: im just stressed, dont worry about it.

VANESSA VANJIE MATEO: wait... since when do u put ponctuations on ur texts- call me rn

Brooke Lynn Hytes: babe, im tired.

VANESSA VANJIE MATEO: And im worried, call me.

-

Brooke ran her fingers through her hair, sighing, already feeling her stress getting worse as now she needed to call Vanessa, she was well aware that her girlfriend was only worried about her but it still freaked her out, why did she have to be stupid? She could've just put the damn hearts and said nothing more but knowing Vanessa, she would've still known Brooke was out of it, she always knew.

-

Incoming video chat from VANESSA VANJIE MATEO

Brooke answered, looking at the screen with a tired expression, seeing Vanessa laying in bed, most likely the lamp on her bed side table providing the little amount of light shinning on her tanned features. "Hey." Brooke Lynn smiled weakly, standing up to walk next to her window, getting some of the moonshine onto her, trying to be bare visibly.

"Hey, twinkle toes." Vanjie giggled, squinting her eyes to try and see Brooke a little better. "I can barely see you, turn on a light or something."

"The light hurts my eyes, I've been trying to sleep for the past hour." Brooke replied in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Could've said that without the attitude but aight." Vanessa replied jokingly, hearing Brooke sigh. "Oh, you're stressed, stressed." She remarked, pursing her lips together and trying to think quickly of something to say but Brooke Lynn unexpectedly spoke up.

"I don't know, everything is stressing me out right now, even the dumbest things like my pillow's firmness." Brooke explained, earning another look of concern from her partner. "I just wanna sleep but I can't, like, the couch is uncomfortable but I don't want to sleep in my bed for some reason." Brooke didn't know why she felt like this sometimes. There we're moment where there we're strange things she suddenly couldn't do for a certain amount of time or else she'd get stressed.

"You're having one of those stress episodes again? You really need to go to a therapist boo, seriously, thats not normal." Vanessa pointed out but that didn't seem to help Brooke right now. "What if I came by and picked you up so you can sleep over at mines tonight? Would you like that?" She asked and Brooke stayed silent.

"I have mushy pillows, they're so soft, I know you love em." She giggled, getting a little reaction from Brooke, that sweet smile Vanessa loved to see. "Sure, pick me up." Brooke chuckled, walking over to the light switch, turning on the light so Vanessa could finally see her clearly.

"You look so pretty~" Vanessa smiled, sitting up in her bed. "I just wanna kiss you." She said. "You can kiss me later." Brooke replied, getting a knowing glance from her girlfriend, making Brooke laugh. "You need to make thay face again just so I can screenshot it and make it your profile picture in my phone." Brooke cackled, making Vanjie break out into laughter as well.

"When you're here, you can take a picture, it'll be prettier than a screenshot. Anyhow, I'm gonna put some pants on and come pick you up." Vanjie said. "Alright, baby, see you later." Brooke Lynn blew a kiss and winked before hanging up.

-

She felt excited to get away from her apartment, or maybe just excited to see her girlfriend, a mix of both...but that didn't really matter. She was excited.

Brooke power walked to her bathroom, looking at herself through the mirror, she actually looked decently good, maybe a little tired but that was normal after taking five 5 minute long naps.

And quicker than she expected, she heard a ring st her door bell, smiling to herself, Brooke made her way to the front door, unlocking it and opening the door to see Vanessa with a big smile in her face. "Hey bitch~"

"Hi baby." Brooke giggled, hugging the shorter girl tightly, pressing her face against her chest. "I know im short but that's no excuse to shove my face in your tits- not that I mind but still." Vanessa snickered. Looking up at Brooke Lynn who kissed her forehead. "Sorry, I was just happy to see you." Brooke smiled.

"I can tell." Vanessa laughed. "Oh, shut it." Brooke rolled her eyes before letting go of Vanessa, breaking the embrace. "Sure." Vanessa giggled, holding Brooke's hand. "How about i take you home now, malady." Vanessa winked. "You're painfully cringy." Brooke replied monotonely. "And you're a pain in the ass, let's go."

"I might be but you still love me." Brooke smiled smugly. "Of course, I love you, dumbass." Vanessa said. "Kiss me and then we can go." Brooke chuckled, receiving a quick peck on the lips from Vanjie. "Hey~ I said kiss, no lt peck." Brooke Lynn whined. "Fine."

Vanessa sighed, cupping Brooke Lynn's face and kissing her softly, feeling Brooke's hands go to her waist, pulling her closer but  Vanjie broke the kiss. "Not that kissing on your door step bothers me but I'd rather do that in a comfy bed." Vanessa giggled. "Right." Brooke chuckled. "Let's go."