#t(hr); frozen

[junovrsmp4]

three is not a crowd

OR

5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun

pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris

summary: what it says on the tin basically

warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay

word count: 6.9K

author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad

1

“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.

What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.

Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.

At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.

“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.

“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”

At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.

Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.

2

Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.

You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.

Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.

You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.

Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.

Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.

Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.

Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.

“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-

You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-

Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.

So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.

It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.

Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.

“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”

Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.

Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.

Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.

He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.

3

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.

He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.

It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?

There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-

“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”

“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Right.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.

This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.

It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.

Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.

“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.

“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.

You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.

Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.

Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.

The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.

He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.

It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.

You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.

“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.

Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.

He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.

See what I have, what you so desperately want…

Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.

It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.

4

Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.

So, it had to be on purpose.

Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”

“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.

“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.

You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.

Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.

5

Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.

Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.

It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.

It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.

“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”

And with that, Nick storms back into their house.

Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.

Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.

“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.

Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.

“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”

Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.

Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”

“She wants you bro.”

Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.

“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.

“What…?”

“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”

Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”

“I’m not kidding, Chris.”

Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.

You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.

“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”

He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.

“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”

“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”

“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”

“Oh, god-”

“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”

“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.

“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.

“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”

And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.

Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.

Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.

+ 1

They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.

They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.

Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.

“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.

That’s all the cue he needs.

Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.

“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.

“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.

Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.

Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.

“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.

“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”

You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.

“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”

You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.

“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.

“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.

Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.

“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”

“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”

“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”

“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.

“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.

You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.

Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.

“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.

Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.

Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.

“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”

“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”

Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.

At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.

You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.

Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.

“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.

Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.

The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.

The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.

“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.

“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”

After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.

Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.

author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag

[dnickels]

I work in close quarters in a relatively isolated area (obviously not middle of the frozen sea isolated, but) alongside people I really like and am very compatible with and it took just about six months before we ran out of 'safe' topics to talk about and started alternating between ten hour shifts in tense silence and some EXTREMELY not-HR-approved conversations. And I get to leave at the end of the day! I just cannot imagine three years on the ass end of nowhere with maybe 10 people you're socially allowed to converse with (most of whom outrank you) and no internet, to say nothing of a Creature bearing down. T-minus eighteen months maximum before there is a screaming match on the nature of the Trinity. Or not even that it's some fact about molluscs that they can't confirm because no one brought the right book. Camps are made. Hostilities commence. Teacups are shattered.

[punkassfrance]

Mare Nostrum Mediterranean Grill - Chapter Two - Joel/Tess/Reader

Currently rated T, rating will change in later chapters! Contains drug use, swearing, sleazy flirting, and an HR nightmare brewing.

Summary:

Your first job would have been stressful enough if you didn't have to deal with mind games from Joel and Tess. But god, you couldn't bring yourself to complain. - Joel and Tess are line cooks who really, really like flirting with the innocent newhires. Or maybe it's just you.

Joel bonds with you in the only way he knows how.

Previous Chapter - Entire Work - Next Chapter

“You didn’t text me, sugar.”

You turned to look at Joel in the kitchen window. It had been about a week since you first met him- you hadn’t seen him since, but he had been on your mind. You didn’t want to call it a full crush- more of an appreciation. There was a lot to appreciate about Joel. You weren’t going to fantasize about a future with him or try to catch his attention- but it didn’t hurt to linger on his jawline or his biceps when he wasn’t looking. If anything, he was a morale booster. Certainly not a…crush.

“Oh, hey. I figured I didn’t want to bug you unless you needed something.”

“You wouldn’t be buggin’ me. Plus, how am I supposed to text you if I don’t have your number?”

There was that half smile again, blurring his intentions. You chuckled, eyes shifting over to the floor before you turned the corner and left his line of sight.

“Jesus, Dina.” You grabbed her arm lightly as she came up from the back, wiping her hands on a towel. “Is he like that with everyone?”

She threw the towel on the counter and smiled. “Who, Joel? Kind of. He flirts with almost everyone up front.”

“Isn’t he seeing Tess…?”

Dina pressed her lips together, grimacing a bit. “Don’t think about it too much. Neither of them do. She’s not going to bite your head off, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You looked down and nodded, unsure of what to make of her response. “No, I just…eh, whatever. Anything you need me to work on?”

“Not right now, I think the lunch r-word is over. Unless you want to take over dishes until the dishwasher gets here? I try to make sure she’s not overloaded.”

You grinned, glancing back to the kitchen door. Dina went pretty far out of her way to help the dishwasher, you’d noticed. Ellie only worked nights after her classes, but the perk in Dina’s voice when she spoke to her was adorable.

“Yeah, I’ll take over for now. Let me know if you need anything.”

Elbows deep in dishwater, you heard Tess working away behind you, swearing under her breath at a dull knife. You tried not to glance back worried every time you heard her, but eventually, you tuned it out.

Before you knew who it was, there was a hand putting light pressure on the small of your back. He smelled like smoke and spices, creeping into your skin. The hand passed over your skin, sliding up before moving away.

Before you could remind yourself this was not a crush, your mind wandered. You thought of reaching back to grab what you could reach, leaning back into his chest, tilting your head back. Itching to move, hands shaking in the water, you leaned into the paralysis and let it keep you steady. That paralysis may have been the only thing keeping you employed, in that moment.

“Pardon.”

You swallowed. You could have gone the rest of your life without knowing what Joel smelled like- now it was going to keep you up at night.

Eyes frozen on the dishes, he moved past you to the back door.

Tess scoffed from the other side of the room.

-

When you went to take the trash out, there he was, beside the dumpster sitting on a crate. There was a cigarette loose in his hand, ash falling to the ground as he looked up at the stars. It took a second for him to look back down once he noticed you. For a moment, there he was, tan and glowing in the golden hour sun. He swallowed and exhaled smoke, your eyes fixed on his throat. This time of day was a good look on him, you thought before tossing the bag into the dumpster.

“Hey, kid. Your first week go okay?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s going alright! Dina says I’m picking up on things quick.”

“Stress ain’t getting you too bad?”

“I mean…” you trail off, thinking over the last week. “I hurt like hell when I get home, and usually the day after, but it’s manageable. I can barely stand on my feet for a few hours after my shift.”

“You’ll get used to it, I think…” He looked around before looking back at you, giving you a slow once-over. He stared. It wasn’t intimidating, he wasn’t trying to scare you- if you paid attention, you could see the gears turning in his brain. “...do you smoke?”

You raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze. “No, I can’t stand the smell.”

“No, I mean, uh…” He glanced around again, confirming you were alone. “Not cigarettes.”

You stood for a moment, hand resting on the door back to the kitchen.

“I don’t…smoke exactly…” You hoped the lilt in your voice communicated what you wanted to say.

He nodded, chewing on his lip and looking over to the side. “If you need anything- let me know, yeah?”

You stared at him. He didn’t look away.

“...yeah. Will do.”

He stood and walked past you, hand warm on your shoulder. “You’re doing good, kid.”

You stand in the doorway for a moment after he walks back inside. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Tess.

“Close the fucking door, kid. It’s hot out.”

Hot indeed.

Next Chapter

Hope you enjoyed! Crossposted to AO3, comments are always appreciated! Things will get spicy soon lol, I promise c:

[rivers-for-me]

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals. 💌💜 >:>

My favorite playlist is literally the 1683937251 hrs long favorites playlist because im lazy so here we go😭😭

Can you tell i don't have themed playlists😭😭

[annas-hair-donut]

[image: a purple banner with the words Work in Progress Wednesday in a cursive font]Work in Progress WednesdayCreators: work on or post something from your WIP. This is your weekly reminder to get something down on paper (real or virtual). It’s also a chance to share your progress with your followers and give them a sneak peek of what’s to come!Fans: leave a comment on an unfinished fic and let the writer know how much you love it. Reblog an artist’s sketch and let them know you can’t wait to see the final product. Send someone an ask cheering them on!Feel free to repost this image!

Tagging @thefamilybruno; @annaofthenorthernlights; @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots @keeshya6

Coming off of Smut Week I needed a little break before getting back into The Refugees gear! So here's some fluffy angst from my upcoming (approx. 10 chapter) fic "Head Over Feet" (Yes, like the Alanis song!) about HR!Anna Quinn, CFO!Kristoff Boreman, and female!Hans AKA Gianna West who all work at Elsa's gaming company Frozen Fractals. I hope you like it!

Rated T; this excerpt about 1300 words of Kristanna goodness from chapter 1

Kristoff pinched the bridge of his nose and whined, “You just need to be more responsible. There’s a budget and you need to stick to it.”

Gianna’s words echoed in her brain, and Anna took a closer appraisal of Kristoff than she ever had. 

Even though the office was casual, as Anna understood most offices in the gaming industry were, Kristoff wore an expensive, dark gray suit, maybe five years old, with a cheap black tie every day. His shoes were never scuffed or untied, and there was never a single hair out of place from his slicked back hair. 

His face was always so smooth, freshly shaved, and the fresh scent of Barbasol lingered every time he left her office, meaning he never used aftershave or cologne. Though his eyes were bright brown and deep like wells, they were old and weary, and the area around them was sunken and dark, likely from too much worry and not enough sleep. His shoulders were strong and broad enough to hold up the world so they did.

Anna tuned out the rest of what Kristoff said, focusing on how heartbreaking it was that he put so much time and effort into keeping his life in order, but he ultimately had no control over the things that really mattered. Eventually her eyes settled on the small and barely there freckles over the bridge of his nose, which she’d never noticed before.

As he placed two sets of index and middle fingers, nails so short he could have bitten them to the nub, at the corners of her desk and leaned over, it occurred to Anna that she was one of those things in his life that he couldn’t control. She created chaos and made his life more complicated, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. She was just one more thing on top of the giant pile of things that raised his blood pressure.

Kristoff was just a person, and he was hurting.

“I’m sorry, Kristoff, I didn’t realize I was going over the budget again,” she said patiently and sincerely. She made sure his eyes caught her gaze before continuing. “Do you mind explaining how it works, because I don’t think I understand. And I don’t want to keep messing it up.”

Anna had just opened her heart to him a little, and it was pounding, hoping that her words meant something to him. Either he would be the decent sort of man she thought he was, or he’d have an even bigger tantrum and make her feel so much worse than she ever had since starting at Frozen Fractals. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him, but she felt an unwelcome dampness at the corners of her eyes.

He snapped upright, one hand to his hip while the other hand went to his chin. “Tomorrow morning ok? I have to leave early to get my kids.”

Anna smiled patiently, despite how much she’d gloat over this victory with Gianna later. “I have interviews starting at 9:00. Will 8:00 work?”

The corners of Kristoff’s mouth lifted so slightly Anna almost missed them, and his voice softened into something that felt a little like a tease. “Yeah. I usually get here by 7:00, anyway.”

He did? Even 8:00 was hard for Anna. She could easily stay up to 4:00, but waking up early was something different entirely.

She probably wouldn't get home until very late that night, in fact, or very early in the morning. She bit her lip and thought that whatever she did that night, she couldn't even be a second late for their meeting. If she were, he’d lose all respect for her and he’d never stop yelling and she’d forever feel bad for all of his future blood pressure issues. There was too much at stake to screw this up. 

Feeling better about things after Kristoff stopped yelling, having made a new friend so easily, and having purchased the very last dress available at the store—which just so happened to be her size—Anna felt ready for whatever came next.  Then she spent way too much time on her hair and make-up, but she looked perfect, she thought. Gianna was probably going to have smokey eyes sexy enough for a model, while Anna would have classic and flawlessly exaggerated cat-eyes, just as gorgeous if not as cool. Gianna would probably wear her hair poker straight and slightly damp looking, but Anna’s hair would be plaited into an elaborate but romantic French braid that would make Daenerys proud.

She kept reminding herself that she wasn’t actually going to find the one tonight, but the one tonight, but she tidied her apartment just in case. If some random guy was coming home with her just to sleep with her, she shouldn’t have cared about what her apartment looked like. But, wasn’t there always a chance that fate would give her what she wanted most in life: someone she could love with her entire being? She braced herself for an exciting adventure, then she landed on the side of a cliff.

“Oh, excuse me.”

Anna was a split second away from telling Gianna to take a rain check because the chest Anna had just collided into could just as easily have been the one right now as it could be the one. If she could just turn her head and listen for its heartbeat…

“Anna?”

She lifted her gaze to Kristoff’s wide, blinking eyes, searching for an answer. He looked at Anna for a moment, too, as though not sure what to say either.

“Kristoff? Hi! Do you live here or something?” She tried to be casual about it as she quickly backed away, but he completely took her off guard. 

“Yeah. It’s so close-”

“-to the office,” Anna helped him finish the sentence.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and Anna blushed at the way his forehead wrinkled though his eyes seemed so relaxed, even relieved.

“I’m sorry!” Kristoff said suddenly. “You’re on your way out. I didn’t mean to hold you up or anything.”

“You’re fine,” Anna said with a small shrug. “I’m just meeting up with a friend for drinks.”

“Drinks?” he coughed, betraying his discomfort. Anna smiled slightly when she caught him fighting against checking his watch.

“Are you just getting home from work?” she asked. It was nearly 9:00 pm and he was still wearing his suit, though his tie was loosened and the top button of his shirt was undone, revealing just a hint of light brown hairs curling to escape their jail.

He finally looked at her again, a little color in his cheeks, “No, my son had a basketball game. They lost, but he scored a few points.”

Anna didn’t tell him that she was sure he was good at basketball, too. Nor did she mention the way  his voice hummed with pride at the mention of his son. “It must have been really nice having you there cheering him on and seeing how well he did, even though the team lost.”

“Yup,” Kristoff said, uncomfortably, and the reality of his situation set in. He was coming home late, alone, after seeing his son. Because his son didn’t live with him. Suddenly, Anna understood the toll being separated from his wife took on him. He was separated from his kids, too. 

“Well, I’m in 6E if you ever need anything,” Anna offered.

Kristoff smiled awkwardly, and pointed, “So, 8:00 then?”

Anna raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Night, Kristoff!” she said as she walked away.

Anna turned her head towards him just as she got to the front door and he folded his arms. “8F.”

Anna gave him a nod and a small wave, and waited until she was a block away before allowing her smile grow to its full potential and letting out a small giggle.

[just-a-cup-of-anxietea]

I posted 2,173 times in 2022

83 posts created (4%)

2,090 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@unashamedly-enthusiastic

@thegreenpea

@princessasmosprincess

@daydreaming-optimist

@nettlewildfairy

I tagged 1,468 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#animals - 98 posts

#mutuals - 85 posts

#friends - 77 posts

#there are many benefits to being a marine biologist - 46 posts

#uquiz - 46 posts

#asks - 39 posts

#grace speaks - 38 posts

#answered - 34 posts

#posts i show my mom - 30 posts

#best posts - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#the narrative being it being ‘you’re not pretty enough to wear no makeup. you need to wear makeup to look like a passable human person <;3’

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

No but do you think that Percy Jackson who is canonically studying marine science would take a marine mammals course and just like,, make stuff up? Prof would call him out on his nonsense and Percy would be like, no it really does happen I can show you. And then he’d take the prof to a random spot where he’s already conversed with the local wildlife to perform as suggested in his paper that his teacher admonished him for. I just like to think that Percy would make the most of his marine degree by being maximally chaotic about his abilities.

13 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

#4

13 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

#3

I love meeting people and having those moments of “no shut up no WAY you like this incredibly niche thing too????” And then asking one million incredibly niche questions about the incredibly niche thing

16 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#2

Thanks for the tag @the---hermit ! 💕

Nickname: tbh i don't really have one? Some friends call me b. Just the letter b. (Short for Bea.) Others call me Emma or Sara bc for some reason people seem to mistake me for those names fairly frequently. Like a weird amount. Neither of those even slightly resemble Grace, but i guess they still count as nicknames?

Sign: Cancer

Height: somewhere around 5'7? 5'8?

Last thing I googled: EDC removal biodegradation

Song stuck in my head: Fired My Therapist by Madelline

No. of followers: on this account it's a pleasant 198!! Love you guys! 💕💕

Amount of sleep: 2 hrs. Help. Akjxkajska

Lucky number: 3, 7, 11, 12

Dream job: probably like a museum or hotel guest services specialist. Working with people directly to teach them about local wildlife and natural history while also still having highly variable days that allow me to work within a WIDE skill set. I think I'd also really like consulting as a sustainable design specialist! Or being a professor! Or scientific diving! Or-!

Wearing: Very comfy teal-ish pajama pants + yellow shirt + pinkish peach sweatshirt

Movies/books that summarize you: BOOKS: The Martian by Andy Weir, The Library of Babel by Jorge Luis Borges, The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan, Instant Karma AND Cress by Marissa Meyer, Journey to the Center of The Earth by Jules Verne, Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell, Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan, Silent Spring by Rachel Carson. MOVIES: Princess Bride, Moana, Finding Nemo, Frozen, The Sound of Music

Favorite song: Take the Weight by Kristin Stokes and Rob Rokicki. (Subject to change in the next 30-1300 seconds)

Aesthetic: morning light shining through crystals in windows and casting rainbows all around a room. Water splashing up and sparkling in the light during an early morning paddle out to a quiet surfing spot. overgrown jungle trails teeming with unusual life. Paint stains on old t-shirts and paintbrushes tucked into perpetually wild hair. Well-worn field guides, pocket-sized sketch pads, multi tools long since broken in, creased maps covered in scrawled writing, and pages and pages of notes (with exclamation points aplenty) on how to read the land, sea, and sky. Stacks of books lovingly arranged and filled with homemade book marks (paint swatches with doodles inked on). Dream destinations tacked up on the wall. Musical instruments and songbooks in every corner. Whiteboards with doodles and architectural sketch ideas with arrows pointing to hastily written acronyms and questions. Laptop with one million tabs open. Leg always bouncing, eyes always starry, shoes always tied tightly ready for the next adventure. Always humming. Faint smell of green tea and vanilla.

Favorite authors: Marissa Meyer, Rick Riordan, Neal Shusterman, Rachel Carson

Favorite animal noise: when my dog gets really excited she does this lil grunting thing that sounds a bit like a contented Berkshire pig. She's so weird i love her so much.

Random: I have a long term goal of watching all the Disney movies in the primary language of the country in which they’re set, so I’m trying to learn like All The Languages. It’s a lot but it’s FUN. The University of Hawaii at Manoa sent me a copy of Moana in Hawaiian like a year ago and I’m STILL freaking out about it ITS SO COO L.

No pressure tagging: @daydreaming-optimist @contre-qui @seasoftea @sttchingllies @oceanok @willowstea @thiscolorfulmess @suckstobehuman @whats-in-a-username @silhouette-of-sarah @humble-boness @earlymoderngothic @cheshire-castle-library @noa-the-physicist @backtomycorner @permanentreverie @notetaeker and anyone else who wants to join in!

16 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Picrew Chain

Make a picrew that looks like your interpretation/imagination of the person you've reblogged from!

@contre-qui and I both loved this picrew by Grgikau.

(No pressure) tagging @contre-qui (hi Mari!). We're going to reblog with our mental images of each other so you guys can get an idea of how this works!

70 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Oof, beans vs tea xd

Nah I get it jot at the same time

But maybe if y'all weren't arguing you'd get it done xD

Hi Morton lol

SLFJDHS nah eggs is real, good for him xD

Oh hiii :D!

Do we know them already? I feel like we might

Maybe y'all shouldn't be fighting in front of the HR rep xD

"The what?" XD

LOL everyone putting their hands down for "not about me" xD

Oof good luck Jacob xdd

Byeee guys

Awww y'all 🥰

You are openly talking about this in the hallway though, gotta say xD

Awww guys 🥰🥰🥺 look at them <33

Oop?

Nahh Janine doesn't want to o.o 👀

Interestinggg

OOP lol o.o

Ava xD

Nahh she won't

Yep lol!

Hmm interesting guys xD

Ope?

What's happening here?

Uhhh

UH OH

That looks too bloody 😬

OPE O.O OH GOSH

Ohhh noo

Frozen 😳

Oh gosh that sucks D: yeah not having gas would do that xd

The poor cafeteria ladies (and men) :(((

Food workers go through enough as it is xdd

Yeahh take em down

D: because of the golf course?

Ahh just these days

"Which I suppose is a good sign" xDD yeah I suppose lol xD :)

Nahh bro she's in love with you

Or yeah she likes you a lot lol 🥰

Aww yeah she is in like with you xD

You guys are so silly

Awww hi Janine 🥰

Her outfit is slaying

Ohh no D:

I mean it's gonna be around somewhere right?

Ohh is Gregory gonna go get it :O

AAAHHHHH he iss 🥰🥰🥰

That's so cute

STOPPP THAT'S SO CUTE 😭❤️🥰

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH CHEEK KISS!!! SO C U U U T E ❤️❤️😭😭😭🥰🥺🥺

Awww look at them 🥰

LOL the lipstick :p

SLFJSKD JACOB NO

XD the idiot <33

Oop nice Melissa has tea!!

OPE ohhh gosh :O non unionized workers

Nahhh they messed uppp with that one :o >:D that's a big one

Nice okay calling the city :D

"My cousin can kill their pets" EXCUSE ME 💀💀😭 XD

LOL their reactions, exactly xD, perfect

Lol yeah, hey - she did give you options xD

Yayyy

Ohh nice go Barbara :D!

Oop okay lol?

SLDKFJS their booger/snot make up??

XDD "huh?" "*sigh* BOOGERS" "Ohhh!" XD

Ooop uh oh Janine D:

Ohh noo

Nah she's about to finish xD- yep lol

Oof 😭

Maybe Jacob will jump forward?

Nope xd

LOL another hand for Barbara xD

And for them

Hey some of them are trying lol

And nice they did it for Barbara again

Yeahh you got this Janine :D Barbara did it quick and easy and you can too :)

Oh no xD

XDDD What is an aquarium LOL

True, that one has some merit as a filibuster

PHEW

Ope

Uh oh

Okay I don't think this is too incriminating-

Okay y'all are making it worse by not being casual 💀

The fake kitchen xD

Um okay guys just- NOPE NOT LIKE THAT XD

Guys you are idiots lol

"Jacob!!" XDD he wants to know, and be done with this

OOP Mr. Johnson going off 💀 XDD

Leave them aloneee

STOP STOP THEY'RE ALREADY DEAD

Y'all are desperately trying to save this and I respect that xD

Ohh nooo y'all

I'm dying this is SO funny XDD

A DUFFLE BAG 💀 come on Gregory, be so fr guys xD

Wait no he's misreading it isn't he-

DRUG DEALERS O.O 💀 SKFHLSJGLDS THAT'S CRAAAZY XDD

LOL

Not great for your look for HR either XD

"We're not dealing drugs we're having sex" OOPE O.O XDD

Y'all lol

You're such idiots xDD all of you

I love you but xD

[m-jrgymrubix-nollchtr0]

_ (Eugile.) "_______" win *****

......as k .com kiosk...do not _

"____ on put _

Co ,the *****"_ Chile"_. _ dd s h ,_" ...

the b as k Fi gra....mot instead , dd. _"___" cele r y cause spegg ****_ Mac******

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[diabetesinsider]

Beginning of Summer Chili

Love some beans simmering on the stove to then enjoy outdoors over hot dogs or burgers cooked on the bbq grill - chili dogs...chili burgers...I can taste them now...Let's get the chili going...

2 c. small dry red beans

water

1 bunch epazote (herb)

2 T. margarine

1 medium onion, diced

1 c. bell peppers, red/green/orange, seeded, diced

2 c. tomatoes, fresh, diced

1 ear fresh corn cut from the ear or 1 c. frozen corn

1 T. salt

1 t. pepper

1 T. garlic powder

2 t. smokey Spanish paprika

Option:  ground meat fried ahead as add in

In a large soup pot, add red beans, epazote, and water 3″ higher than the level of the beans, cover.  Bring to a boil, then take off heat to let sit for the next hour or so.  While the beans are cooking, saute the onions and peppers in the margarine until just tender.  Add the onions/peppers to the beans along with the tomatoes and corn as well as the seasonings.  Simmer until the beans are tender 1 hr. or so. Add the meat if you’re so moved.

While I put the beans on to simmer, I’m sewing pocket aprons for my online shop - www.etsy.com/shop/topdrawerthreads . 

Or I’m knitting soft, warm cowls from upcycled yarn for my other shop - www.etsy.com/shop/topdraweryarns .

My daughter’s have an online shop - www.etsy.com/shop/yesdesigns - where they hand make and sell cotton costume knickers with front cell pocket.

My older daughter has an online shop - www.etsy.com/shop/wildwovenwomen - where she knits brightly colored upcycled recycled yarns into eye catching throws and afghans.

[drake-the-incubus]

off of work! More tea:

- My first day, and the other girl working was only on her second day. That was all who was stationed.

- we had an excess of like 14 (only wrote off thirteen though) smoothies. Supervisor was allowed one- having only jumped in about two times in our 6 and 8 hr shifts respectively- we were not.

- smoothies were about a small/kid’s size apple juice and 8 CAD.

- I accidentally ingested Pina Colada. I am unsure if it had pineapple actually in it. I’m not dead so, score.

- Having quit my restaurant job because dishwashing gave me constant meltdowns which lead to my autism dx, I found myself washing our blenders at the end of the day

- There’s one drink on the menu, that really just makes one serving per, vs the 5 smoothies we needed to make. We only had 5 blenders, and while we’re near the washing station, I had to rinse the blender three times until it was sanitized enough to use for something else. I modified the drink so it was easier to poor because it held us up for 5 minutes each time and kept pushing us behind

- i got called the smoothie queen, and kept up fairly well for my first day working

- I am in the closet being trans and on T. We are playing dangerous games here.

- my introduction to the job took like 20 minutes but only because the manager kept getting stopped every few seconds because of an issue.

- I don’t have my ID badge yet, so I didn’t get my meal during my break and after my break I had to quickly grab my comped meal and rush out because my husband’s isopods were being held captive by Canada Post

- During my break I had to follow a guy heading back to the kitchen just so I could access the break room

- as mentioned, out pina colada mix was frozen. The sub for my coworker- she was on break- wasn’t listening to me abt it and took 6 orders for it and I couldn’t make it. Then stormed off and said “the chef said they they couldn’t make pina colada because its frozen or whatever” just in earshot of me to go “wtf”.

- the supervisor that went to get pina colada did not bring pina colada back

- I had war flashbacks of cutting my knuckles up digging ice when I poured the ice out end of shift.

- the side of my right pointer finger is red bc all of our ingredients- aside from a jug of milk and cocoa powder for that ONE drink- have the same pull tabs as those like 1L carton of juice.

- my cab came early so I rushed to get my food and go for the isopods, cutting in front of two young children that weren’t paying attention so I can leave. The guilt eats me alive.

- mom gave me an umbrella when she dropped me off. The umbrella was useless coming home.

- my feet feel like someone took a bat to the underside and hit just the entire sole of the foot at once.

- surprisingly, the injury I got the night before on our couch still hurts more

- i made the mistake of walking home, 30 minutes, from the post office, I thought I almost died

- I had to run from the cab to the post office, I have Exercise Induced Asthma. The poor postal worker was so worried as I took my inhaler and I was like, “no I’m good I promise.”

- I have collapsed on my couch. I wild not be moving until my next shift in two days. Inclusive.

- I am gonna have ramen and eep

Who the fuck hears “I can’t make pina coladas bc the mix is frozen” and fucking tells on the person for “not doing their job” without letting them fucking finish.

Like. I was literally going to say I’m supposed to be getting more mix.

JFC.

Otherwise, Job’s great. Feet hurt. How’re yall? My break is over abt now.

[punkassfrance]

Mare Nostrum Mediterranean Grill - Chapter 3 - Joel/Tess/Reader

Currently rated T, rating will change in later chapters! Contains drug use, swearing, sleazy flirting, age gap, and an HR nightmare brewing. This chapter contains a (minor) knife wound.

The song is Never Tear Us Apart by INXS! I recommend listening to at least the first minute if you don't know it!

Summary:

Your first job would have been stressful enough if you didn't have to deal with mind games from Joel and Tess. But god, you couldn't bring yourself to complain. - Joel and Tess are line cooks who really, really like flirting with the innocent newhires. Or maybe it's just you.

Tess gets hurt.

Previous Chapter - Entire Work - Next Chapter

~

“Joel, do what you want. You know I don’t care.”

“You sure, Tess? I figured you might want in on this…”

“I’m fine, really. Not looking to fish in my backyard.”

“If you’re sure. Good luck with tonight- hear you’ve only got Jesse in the back with you.”

“Ugh.”

You clear your throat and go back to your task, hearing Joel walk out the back door.

-

“Tess, uh- do you need any help? I know you’re a bit lonely back here today.”

Tess looked over to you in the doorway. She stared for a moment, frozen for only a second as tickets rang in and chimed on her screen. God, there was no getting used to her stare. If Tess was good at anything, it was pinning someone to the floor without a word.

You still weren’t sure where you stood with Tess. She scoffed and rolled her eyes when Joel brushed up against you- she grimaced at anything he said to you, really. Still, she somehow didn’t seem to be upset with you. Even incredulous at Joel’s every move, she never snapped at you- it was hard to read. She was hard to read.

“...sure. Relieve Jesse on dish and send him up here.”

Jesse had earbuds in when you approached him. He almost sprayed you when you tapped him, startled, but he managed to put the nozzle away and shut off the water.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Tess asked me to take over and send you to help her. Things are getting a bit busy.”

He nodded, wiping his hands. “Sick, thanks. I’m pretty soaked by now anyway.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

He paused and turned back to face you, glancing back at the kitchen for a moment. “Quickly, yeah.”

“What’s the deal with Tess? I can’t tell if she hates me or not.”

“Tess? Nah, she’s just kinda like that. Did she say something?”

“No, I don’t know, she just…no, it’s fine.”

He leaned in a bit, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Look- Tess has worked here a long time. Joel too. They’re rough around the edges, but I promise they’re not that bad.”

“...thanks.”

He glanced back again, then leaned in one more time-

“Oh, fuck!” You heard from the kitchen.

You both ran onto the line and saw drops of blood on the floor, a rag wrapped around Tess’ hand. “Jesus, fuck- got myself with these stupid fucking-” she jerked her knee into the prep station, bumping it into the wall. The knife clattered to the ground. “...dull knives! Tell Tommy he’s getting them f-” she lowered her tone, conscious of the window to the dining room. “...he’s getting these knives fucking sharpened or so help me god-”

You lost a bit of color at the blood, but you grabbed a clean rag regardless. The one she’d wrapped around her hand looked filthy- you couldn’t blame her for using whatever she had on hand. Jesse ran for the first aid kit, shouting for Dina to call Tommy and Joel.

“Fuck-” she peeled a bit of the towel back, getting another look at the cut. She’d sliced a few inches on the back of her hand; the knife wasn’t serrated, but the pressure of using a dull blade drove it in deep.

“I can’t work like this, shit. Jesse, you’re gonna have to take over- I’m going to urgent care. This is gonna need stitches.” She held the rag, pulling it tight around her wound.

Dina held the receiver away from her face. “Tess, the nearest urgent care is miles away and I don’t know how soon Joel can get here, he’s not picking up. Tommy and Maria are at the obstetrician.”

She swore under her breath. “I’ll just- fuck, I’ll get an uber or something.”

You paused, grimacing. “No, you’re not taking an uber. I’ll take you, if- Dina, can you handle things up front for a bit?”

Dina swore and the phone and set it down, nodding. “Ellie’s here in a bit, she can come help if I need it. Go, take her.”

“No, you don’t need to take me-” she looked away, refusing to meet your eye for the first time since you’d met her. Her eyes darted all over the room- you, Dina, her hand, the floor, and eventually the doorway. “Kid, grab my phone from my jacket, I’ll just call my sister or something-”

“Tess.” Dina leaned through the window, jaw clenched. “Your sister lives an hour away. Let them take you.”

Tess screwed up her face and looked down at her hand, taking another look at the wound.

“Fuck- ugh, fine.”

-

In the urgent care parking lot, Tess tapped away furiously on her phone. Every once in a while she’d grunt or scoff, muttering something under her breath before picking her phone back up. Her hand was pressed between her knees, keeping pressure on it before she threw her phone on the dashboard and leaned her head back.

Your phone chimed, and for a moment you thought the clinic was letting you know they were ready to see her.

“tess doin ok? its dina btw x”

You smiled and put the contact in before responding.

“yea she’s holding up, waiting to be seen

u and ellie ok?” There was a moment of silence as you waited for a reply before Tess cranked your window down.

“yep, don’t worry about us kid

“Kid, you mind if I have a smoke while we wait? Promise I’ll try not to stink up your car.”

You looked over to her and set your phone down. There were bags under her half-lidded eyes, betraying mere hours of sleep the night before. She had her fingers on a cigarette in her shirt pocket, rolling it between them as she waited for an answer.

Your eyes wandered down, before you could help it. You hadn’t seen her without an apron on. Her button-up is undone, sleeves rolled up, ribbed tank top underneath it. The servers had a dress code, but the kitchen staff didn’t- anything to keep them comfortable and clean in the kitchen heat. If you had let your eyes linger, you could see the outline of her bra under her shirt. Trailing up- her collarbone, pale skin pulled to sharp angles, faint red marks on the columns of her neck. She swallowed as you looked up to meet her eye.

“Go for it.”

The song changed on the radio as she pulled the cigarette out- quick notes on a violin.

She put the cigarette between her lips and took out a lighter, hand quivering as she tried to light the cigarette in her mouth. Between her tremors and the cigarette, she wasn’t getting anywhere.

Don’t ask me, what you know is true.

You held out a hand, offering to take it from her. She looked over to you, thumb releasing the fork of the lighter.

Don’t have to tell you,

The gas station lighter was smooth and light in your hand. You flicked it on, fighting to keep your hand steady.

I love your precious heart.

She leaned in, slow, her free hand holding the bloodied rag on her wound.

I…I was standing.

You hesitated, watching her. She was looking at you from under her eyelashes, graying hair falling into her face. Your free hand came up and brushed it behind her ear before you could really think about it.

You were there.

You held the lighter to her lips, guiding it under the cigarette.

Two worlds collided.

She looked up to meet your eye, letting the cigarette burn for a moment over the flame.

And they could never tear us apart.

You released the gas, but held her gaze. Pinned again. The tip of the cigarette glowed between you.

She leaned back, inhaling and exhaling out the window. Her hair fell back into her face, her legs falling apart as she relaxed into the seat.

“Thanks, kid.”

Your phone chimed. "You’re next on the waitlist! Please come to the lobby for triage."

“You’re up. I’ll wait here.”

She swore under her breath and nodded, taking a deep drag of the cigarette and stepping out of the car. “Didn’t know it would be that quick. Thanks, kid.” She shut the door with her hip, leaning down. “I love that song, by the way.”

As she walked away her phone chimed on the dashboard. Face up, you saw the reflection of the message in the windshield.

“Aww, come on babe, I know they’re your type. You could be all huffy and jealous or you could have some fun with me.”

Next Chapter

[rkdoyoung]

♕ ✦ —  frozen.

@soljirk

there’s no better time than summer to grab an ice cream, even late into the evening, bordering on bedtime. when those cravings hit, it’s hard to ignore them because the more you try to do so, the stronger it gets, so why fight it?

he stands in line at the ice cream truck, looking over all the flavors and trying to decide which one he’d like to buy as a snack before heading back home to turn in for the evening. after all, it’s back to work again early in the morning, just as he had earlier that day. it can be a tiring process, but it’s a process that pays the bills, so it’s not something he wants to or can stop any time soon.

by the time he gets to the front of the line, he’s decided on his chosen flavor. however, the cart vendor informs him that there’s currently a sale going on so, on a whim, he buys two of the 32cm ice creams and turns around to offer one of them to the person behind him with a smile. “they said it’s two for one,” he says as he offers it to her, hoping she doesn’t think him some kind of weirdo or as if he were hitting on her randomly (not that she isn’t pretty! it just isn’t his style). “ice cream’s on me.”

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

i seriously will not be able to stop thinking about your Daddy Clyde holy hell you write him so beautifully. ugh Daddy's so gritty and dirty and just the right amount of meannnn ugh i hate you and love you at the same time. that piece stressin' me tf out ugh i really n e e d more of it lmao

A/N: @ohdamnadamm AS PER YOUR REQUEST DARLIN’ I COOKED UP A FILTHY ASS FUCKIN’ NUGGET FROM THE INNER MECHANISMS OF MY MIND (AND THANKS TO @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather FOR HER DAD BOD FIC FOR THE LOVE OF PETE IM SO HARD FOR THAT AMAZING THOT, BLESS YOU ITS BEEN RUNNING THROUGH MY MIND FOR 48 HRS STRAIGHT AND IVE READ IT UPWARDS OF TWENTY TIMES) IM NOT SORRY IN THE SLIGHTEST. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, SWEET BABE! 

Warnings: Daddy kink, BJ’s, ball-sucking, choking, cumshots, cum eating, unprotected sex, dirty talk and LOTS OF IT, teasing, marking, breeding kink, hair pulling, scratching, just pure fuckin’ hot sweaty porn, no plot whatsoever, SMUT SMUT SMUT AND MORE FUCKIN’ CLYDE LOGAN SMUT. 

The hot sun beat down in the small trailer located in the boonies of West Virginia, the AC had decided to take a shit early that mornin’, sendin’ your big bear to go to the Home Depot for some tools to fix it right up for his baby doll. 

You sat, perched on the couch in nothin’ but your little pink thong, and laced up bralette, sweatin’ to high heaven as you waited for your tin foil knight to return and save the heat stroke you had been sufferin’ since damn near five in the mornin’. 

“Jesus fuck,” you exhaled, rubbin’ more sweat off your soakin’ tits, pullin’ your hair into a sticky mess of a bun as you fanned yourself over the hot August fog that settled in the small quarters. 

“I’m just fuckin’ parched as all hell,” gettin’ up from the couch, makin’ your way to the fridge to stick your head in the freezer for some relief, only to find your savin’ grace for the next twenty minutes or so, a box of red-white-n-blue rocket pops. 

“Oh fuck me!” reachin’ for them as you tore the box open like a feral cat, rippin’ the packagin’ and shovin’ that popsicle into your gapin’ mouth, a moan emittin’ throughout the room as you savored the icy cold of the frozen delicacy. 

Just then, the door shuffled open to let your hulk of a man in from the blisterin’ heat of the day, his white t-shirt stained in tit sweat, and his brimmed ball cap sweat covered too. He dropped the bag on the floor, airin’ out his shirt as he looked around for your pretty little figure. 

“Baby girl?” concerned you weren’t in his line of sight, inchin’ towards the kitchen, “where ya at?” peerin’ around the partition to see the hottest thing he’d seen all damn day. You perched on the kitchen counter, tits completely sweat covered, legs spread open like a porn star, and a bomb pop slidin’ in and out of your perfect lips, the colored juices drippin’ down your chin into the valley of your chest as you eyeballed him from the livin’ room. 

“What’s ma perty lil’ baby doin’ on the counter, huh?” movin’ over to you as he wiped his sweat covered face with his t-shirt, exposin’ his precious belly and shinin’ tits. 

“Ya know it’s dangerous ta be on the counter like that baby doll,” panderin’ as he rubbed your soft thighs, bendin’ down to kiss and suck on the skin as you thrust the popsicle in and out of your mouth, not losin’ the slightest bit of eye contact, “wouldn’t want daddy’s precious baby girl ta get herself hurt, now, would we?” ghostin’ his lips over your succulent and swollen cunt. 

“Mhmm,” whinin’ out at his touches on your sensitive skin, forcin’ the treat down your open throat even more, “‘m sorry daddy,” moanin’ as he lifted his head to smirk at your fuck me face. 

“I don’t think yer sorry in the slightest darlin’,” gigglin’ as he stood to his full height, leanin’ in to grip the empty stick from your mouth, tossin’ it on the floor, “I think ya like bein’ a lil’ brat, don’t ya baby girl?” tiltin’ your chin to meet his searin’ gaze as he pushed his lips onto yours, sighin’ as he pulled you flush to him, inhalin’ your sweet scent as the kiss deepened. 

“Ya know what kinda punishment lil’ brats get?” he pulled away, grippin’ your hair to wrench your head back up to his, suckin’ marks on your neck as he gathered you in his huge arms. 

“No, daddy, I don’t,” bitin’ your lip at the pain of his ministrations on your pulse, “p-please tell me what I get,” moanin’ as he pulled your hair tighter and tighter. 

Liftin’ his head back up, starin’ into your eyes, “get off the damn counter and assume yer position in front a the couch baby girl,” lettin’ go of your head as he watched you slide down off your perch to slink into the livin’ room, your ass red from the duration of your stay on the linoleum lined top as he watched it sway with your hips, completely entranced. 

“Like this daddy?” bendin’ down on your knees, as he slid himself in front of the lip of the couch to gaze at your pretty little face beggin’ to be fucked. Your hands behind your back, head cocked up to meet his stare, tits pushed out, nipples peaked, and your vision on him and him only. 

“Stick that lil’ tongue out baby girl,” fumblin’ with his belt and zipper as he watched you present the organ as requested, “daddy wanna see his lil’ cumbucket,” releasin’ his half hardened cock to sit on the couch like the king he was. He reached his hand to pull on the appendage, a moan emittin’ from your throat as he motioned you closer with it. 

“Yer gonna suck ma cock until yer cryin’ for air baby girl,” musin’ as you lowered your face to his large balls, nuzzlin’ your nose in the softness and musk envelopin’ them in his aura. 

“Yes, daddy,” whisperin’ as you pecked tiny kisses on them, “I wanna be a good girl fer you,” lickin’ the skin like a kitten. 

“Mhmm,” he moaned out, his balls twitchin’ at your movements on them, “yer such a good girl fer yer daddy,” praisin’ as you sucked one into your mouth, tuggin’ on the skin and rollin’ your tongue around the sac. 

“Mmm, ya taste so good daddy,” movin’ to the other testicle to mimic the motions just as good as the other, savorin’ his manly scent as you made out with his scrotum, his cock wavin’ like a flag in the sky as you tugged on the other ball. 

“G-god d-damn,” he cooed, grippin’ your head to lift you up from his sac, “that’s enough a that baby girl,” lust blown as he rubbed the sides of your temples, causing your eyes to roll back in your head as he lowered your lips to his weepin’ tip. 

“Now yer gonna take this cock baby girl,” gazin’ at the sight of you foamin’ at the mouth under his larger than life dick, “go on ‘n suck yer daddy,” shovin’ your perfect little mouth onto his achin’ dick, revelin’ in the gaggin’ sounds you made as he pushed your head completely down on him. 

“Open up fer me baby girl,” gaspin’ as your jaw went slack over his throbbin’ cock, “there ya go darlin’,” praisin’ as you sped up your sloppy gyrations on him. 

“S-such a p-perty lil’ cumbucket,” watchin’ as the spit fell in globs on his jeans, and the tears spilled from your eyes over his girth, “what a g-good baby girl daddy has,” throwin’ his head back in pleasure as you sucked your cheeks in, rollin’ your tongue on the underside of his veiny dick.

“Daddy’s gettin’ close baby girl,” he panted out as you adjusted your angle to hit your uvula just the right way, causin’ an animalistic moan to reverberate on the thin walls of the trailer. 

“I-I’m,” shovin’ your head off his cock, causin’ a huge gasp for air to leave your lips and wide eyes to meet your man as he palmed his red angry cock in his hand. 

“Open yer perty mouth baby girl!” growlin’ out as the largest stream of semen you’d ever seen squirt from his head, landin’ on your tongue, tits, and chin. 

“Motherfuck-k,” he palmed himself until the last of it landed on your skin, takin’ huge deep breaths as he let go of his limp cock, “ya alright baby girl?” watchin’ the color return to your face as you sucked up his spend from your face. 

“I’m just fine daddy,” crawlin’ on to his lap, thighs on either side of him as you nestled your covered pussy on his still throbbin’ cock. 

“Ya such a good girl fer me,” pettin’ your arms as you gripped the back of his head, leanin’ in for a steamy kiss as you gyrated your hips on him. 

“Mhmm,” he chuckled, “does ma sweet baby need somethin’ from her daddy?” watchin’ as you bat your eyelashes at him, “use yer words darlin’,” he pandered once again, bringin’ a thumb to tug at your bottom lip. 

“I need ya to fuck me, daddy,” bringin’ the digit into your mouth as you moved again on his dick, the hardness comin’ back in a wave at your friction, “please, I’ve been a good girl fer you,” suckin’ on it like a pacifier. 

“Ya right baby girl,” he cooed, “I can’t say no to yer sweet lil’ pussy anyways,” watchin’ as you lifted your hips to line his cock up with your achin’ slit, rubbin’ your built-up slick around on the head. Pushin’ your hips slowly down on his length, swallowin’ every single inch like the popsicle you’d been devourin’ minutes prior. 

“G-good god darlin’,” breath hitchin’ as he took in your tight walls clenchin’ on his cock, “ya so damn tight, no matter how many times yer daddy fucks ya,” musin’ as you started your little dance on his lap. 

Hips in a death grip by his flesh and blood hand and his metal one as you gyrated your body, tits bouncin’ in his face, sweat buildin’ up in the heat of the trailer as skin slappin’ emitted through every room in the house. 

“F-fuck big bear!” you cried out, feelin’ his head pokin’ your cervix with every thrust he was makin’ upwards, completely sendin’ you into another dimension of pleasure, “ya stretch me out so damn good daddy!” moanin’ into every knock he made on your open womb. 

“Ya gonna cum on daddy’s big cock baby girl?” watchin’ your mouth gape open as your tits fall out of the sorry excuse for a bra you’d chosen, “daddy wants ya ta cum so damn bad!” speedin’ his movements up until tears fell again from your face. 

“Daddy!” grippin’ on his shoulders, drawin’ blood as he pummeled your hole with everything he had, “d-daddy I-I’m g-gon-,” the friction from his jeans rubbin’ your clit for him as you unraveled and released your sweet sticky spend on him. 

“F-fuck!” cryin’ out in unrelentin’ waves of bliss as he rode you out to pound town. 

“Such a perty baby girl,” musin’ as he thrust his cock in and out with more fervor, “daddy’s gettin’ close baby,” he praised once again, gritting his teeth as he set an ungodly speed on your overstimulated body.  

“D-daddy’s c-close,” he grunted, thrustin’ in once more before unloadin’ his spend into your gapin’ slit, shovin’ it further a further as he kept thrustin’ into you. 

“J-Jesus f-fuckin’ C-Christ,” hips still in his grip as it tightened from his orgasm, “ya feel s-so good darlin’,” stillin’ himself as you both gazed into each other, takin’ in the heat that had built over the last hour. 

He brought you into an embrace, smellin’ your hair, as you pet his sweat covered back, kissin’ the moles on his shoulder and rubbin’ the scratches that had built up. After a few more seconds, you went to hop off him, only to be stilled back in your spot. 

“Clyde, baby!” you looked at him, irritated and sweaty, “what the hell? It’s fuckin’ hot an’ I have ta pee,” tryin’ to pry his hands off your hips still. 

“Nah baby girl,” he tsked, “yer gonna sit here with ma cum in your pussy for a minute,” musin’ and rubbin’ your lower belly, “I wanna make sure ya keep it nice n’ safe up there,” eyes dilatin’ as he watched your expression change too. 

“Oh really?” movin’ a hand to slick his mop of hair back, “ya think this is gonna do the trick ta knock my ass up like ya want me ta be big bear?” gigglin’ as his toothy smile appeared as a result of your words. 

“Well, it’s a damn start innit?” nuzzlin’ his cheek in your hand, “need ta make sure ma swimmers explore all parts a the cave darlin’,” chucklin’ as you rolled your eyes. 

“Yer lucky yer the cutest thing on the planet,” softenin’ at his precious face restin’ in your fingers, “that jus’ makes me wanna have as many babies as possible so they get yer perty lil’ features,” rubbin’ his cheek as a tear welled up in his eyes. 

“I ain’t as precious as you are baby girl,” rubbin’ more little circles on your lower tummy, “I can’t wait ta see the perfect lil’ ones we do make,” the wetness rollin’ out of his eyes as he thought about a little Logan joinin’ the trailer. 

“Oh shit!” he jolted, scarin’ the crap out of you as you stood up, “I totally fuckin’ forgot!” he jumped up from the couch. 

“Forgot what big bear!” clutchin’ your chest as you crossed your legs to avoid the liquid from fallin’ out of your bladder and your pussy. 

“I have ta fix the fuckin’ AC!”

_____________

IN CONCLUSION, 

🖤, 

ray-nal-beads

[just-a-cup-of-anxietea]

Thanks for the tag @the---hermit ! 💕

Nickname: tbh i don't really have one? Some friends call me b. Just the letter b. (Short for Bea.) Others call me Emma or Sara bc for some reason people seem to mistake me for those names fairly frequently. Like a weird amount. Neither of those even slightly resemble Grace, but i guess they still count as nicknames?

Sign: Cancer

Height: somewhere around 5'7? 5'8?

Last thing I googled: EDC removal biodegradation

Song stuck in my head: Fired My Therapist by Madelline

No. of followers: on this account it's a pleasant 198!! Love you guys! 💕💕

Amount of sleep: 2 hrs. Help. Akjxkajska

Lucky number: 3, 7, 11, 12

Dream job: probably like a museum or hotel guest services specialist. Working with people directly to teach them about local wildlife and natural history while also still having highly variable days that allow me to work within a WIDE skill set. I think I'd also really like consulting as a sustainable design specialist! Or being a professor! Or scientific diving! Or-!

Wearing: Very comfy teal-ish pajama pants + yellow shirt + pinkish peach sweatshirt

Movies/books that summarize you: BOOKS: The Martian by Andy Weir, The Library of Babel by Jorge Luis Borges, The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan, Instant Karma AND Cress by Marissa Meyer, Journey to the Center of The Earth by Jules Verne, Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell, Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan, Silent Spring by Rachel Carson. MOVIES: Princess Bride, Moana, Finding Nemo, Frozen, The Sound of Music

Favorite song: Take the Weight by Kristin Stokes and Rob Rokicki. (Subject to change in the next 30-1300 seconds)

Aesthetic: morning light shining through crystals in windows and casting rainbows all around a room. Water splashing up and sparkling in the light during an early morning paddle out to a quiet surfing spot. overgrown jungle trails teeming with unusual life. Paint stains on old t-shirts and paintbrushes tucked into perpetually wild hair. Well-worn field guides, pocket-sized sketch pads, multi tools long since broken in, creased maps covered in scrawled writing, and pages and pages of notes (with exclamation points aplenty) on how to read the land, sea, and sky. Stacks of books lovingly arranged and filled with homemade book marks (paint swatches with doodles inked on). Dream destinations tacked up on the wall. Musical instruments and songbooks in every corner. Whiteboards with doodles and architectural sketch ideas with arrows pointing to hastily written acronyms and questions. Laptop with one million tabs open. Leg always bouncing, eyes always starry, shoes always tied tightly ready for the next adventure. Always humming. Faint smell of green tea and vanilla.

Favorite authors: Marissa Meyer, Rick Riordan, Neal Shusterman, Rachel Carson

Favorite animal noise: when my dog gets really excited she does this lil grunting thing that sounds a bit like a contented Berkshire pig. She's so weird i love her so much.

Random: I have a long term goal of watching all the Disney movies in the primary language of the country in which they’re set, so I’m trying to learn like All The Languages. It’s a lot but it’s FUN. The University of Hawaii at Manoa sent me a copy of Moana in Hawaiian like a year ago and I’m STILL freaking out about it ITS SO COO L.

No pressure tagging: @daydreaming-optimist @contre-qui @seasoftea @sttchingllies @oceanok @willowstea @thiscolorfulmess @suckstobehuman @whats-in-a-username @silhouette-of-sarah @humble-boness @earlymoderngothic @cheshire-castle-library @noa-the-physicist @backtomycorner @permanentreverie @notetaeker and anyone else who wants to join in!

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

mistletoe & california snow - t. meier

Here’s the first of the things I’ll be putting out for the Christmas and holiday season! I’ve been working on this for the past few weeks, it’s pretty long - bear with me - but I am proud of it and how it’s turned out. As always, I read all the tags and love seeing and hearing people’s thoughts, so please let me know what you think!

word count: 7.6k+

warning: sexual content (light & brief, but no one under 18 please!)

Timo came into Noemi Silva’s life when she least expected it. It’s a cliché saying, one that had been around since time immemorial, but it was true. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, and she had just gotten out of a relationship a few months prior. But then she had gotten an internship with the Sharks social media team in winter of her senior year of college, and the more time she started spending around the players, the more he realized he wasn’t able to stay away from her. Not in a bad way, but in the kind of way where he simply noticed how radiant she was and wanted to do whatever he could to get to know her, to be around her, in whatever way she’d let him. So colleagues turned into friends, turned into him asking her out two weeks before playoffs started. She didn’t say yes right away, but it wasn’t because she didn’t know, and it wasn’t because she wanted to make him sweat it. She was worried about what people would think; an intern dating one of the team’s star forwards, worried that the office gossip would turn into arguments that she didn’t earn her job, or that she was trying to get people to go easier on her. After a long conversation with Alise, one of her best friends, then her older sister, then Timo, she finally agreed. Them being together wasn’t as big of an issue as she had thought, a few meetings with HR and some paperwork and they had the green light, as long as they kept things professional at work. And then she was offered a full-time job after her graduation, and now, almost three years after they had first met, she was days away from marrying the love of her life. 

He had proposed at the very beginning of the year, on a weeklong trip to Switzerland courtesy of the Sharks’ bye week and a very well-timed nonstop flight to Zürich. Noemi wasn’t an overly sentimental person, she thought as she curled next to her fiancé on their living room couch, watching an episode of Gossip Girl. She never had been, but even she would admit without hesitation that there wasn’t a single thing she would have changed about their engagement. 

---

Noemi’s parents were out of town on a weekend getaway to wine country, so they weren’t able to drive her and Timo to the airport for their bye week vacation to Switzerland. Everything had lined up perfectly that year, and Noemi almost couldn’t believe their luck. She had accompanied the Sharks’ delegation to the past two All-Star Weekends, one the year prior and the other only the weekend before. So they both had a full week off for the first time since the offseason. The Christmas break was great, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to travel anywhere, let alone somewhere outside of the country. They had both been worried about the flight time — for a while, the only option was nearly twenty hours with a seven-hour layover in London — but thankfully, a nonstop flight from San Francisco to Zürich had opened up that they had booked just before the holidays. 

All leading to the current moment, with Noemi, Timo, and their bags in the backseat of Kevin Labanc’s SUV as he pulled up to the curb of Terminal G. “Hope you guys have fun in the Alps, getting snowed on and freezing your asses off while I relax on the beach, getting—”

Noemi cut him off, arching an eyebrow. “Freezing your ass off, Kevin. It may be California, but I think you’re vastly overestimating how warm Santa Cruz beaches get. Have fun, though,” she quipped. 

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Meier, did you know that your girl can chirp better than half the team?” 

“One of her many talents,” Timo said, shrugging as he hefted their bags out of the trunk. Noemi was the first one to hug his teammate goodbye, and then Kevin pulled Timo into an embrace. 

“But seriously, guys. Have fun. Good luck,” he said, looking back at Timo. 

“What did he say good luck for?” Noemi asked, her brows furrowed as they walked through the sliding doors to the check-in counter. 

Timo made a noncommittal noise. “Not sure. Maybe he meant to say good flight?” And it was a good flight, they were both able to get a few hours of sleep in before breakfast was served just as they were flying over Scotland. 

Noemi wrested her back from under the seat before slinging it onto her shoulder and flashing a grateful smile at the flight attendants as they disembarked. She shivered as the cold air hit her on the jet bridge — as soon as they made it out to the gate, she made Timo stop so she could grab a jacket out of her bag, zipping it up all the way to under her chin. Timo snorted; she glared at him. “We weren’t all born with snow in our veins, Timo.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.” 

She had been through the airport once before, but once was nothing compared to the she-didn’t-even-know-how-many flights Timo had taken. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as they reached passport control, moving towards the automated gates as Noemi stood in the line for non-Schengen nationals. “See you on the other side.” 

Timo had already been waiting for ten minutes by the time Noemi got through. Though, all things considered — especially when compared to the hour-plus lines they were both used to trying to get back into the United States — it wasn’t bad at all. “You get through okay?” he asked, kissing Noemi as she came up to where he had settled by a coffee shop. 

She nodded. “Yep, no issues. Asked me why I was here, I said I was visiting family with my Swiss citizen boyfriend, asked how long I’d be here for, I said a week. She told me welcome to Switzerland, stamped my passport, and said to have a good trip.” She tucked her passport into her purse, zipping it closed. 

Timo bent down to kiss the top of her head as she leaned into him, her hands wrapping around his waist. “Let’s get going, then.”

---

The day before they were due to fly out of Zürich, they decided to go into the city. By they, it was really Timo’s decision; before they left San Jose, he had shown her pictures of Zürich in the winter and mentioned the zoo. It was an easy sell, she loved getting to see the lemurs. They had done the zoo in the morning and the national museum in the afternoon, before the sun set just after 5 PM. 

The beer garden he took her to for dinner didn’t have any more indoor seating — something Noemi didn’t have a preference on, but Timo seemed concerned about — so the couple settled outside, warmed by a heating lamp and a well-placed fire pit off to the side of their table. “I feel like a lizard,” Noemi remarked, glancing up at the lamp. Timo laughed, holding her hand and absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over the top as he scanned the menu. “Now, it may come as a shock to you, but I happen to be less-than-fluent in Swiss German, so you’re going to have to help me out here,” she said as she read the menu. “Pictures are only getting me so far.”

He chuckled, leaning over the table “Do you want the raclette or the fondue?” 

Noemi’s brow furrowed. “Raclette?” 

Timo pulled out his phone, quickly navigating to Google. “The best way to describe it is like warmed, bubbly cheese that’s like scraped onto the food. Potatoes, meat, that kind of stuff. As opposed to fondue, which is obviously just fondue.” 

She looked at him, bewildered. “How many ways do the Swiss have to eat cheese?” 

“We’ve been perfecting it for 700 years, No.” 

The raclette was incredible, as expected, and the saison their waitress had suggested paired perfectly. It was nearing eight by the time they had paid the check, and they had an hour long drive back to his hometown, but the night wasn’t over yet. Some of the Christmas lights were still up, and a short walk around downtown led them to a little art gallery that was still open, Timo purchasing a gorgeous oil painting of the city, the clock tower of St. Peter in the background. 

“Belated Christmas present?” he asked, grinning at Noemi, as he arranged for it to be shipped back to California. 

She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.” 

“Merci vielmal,” Timo said to the curator. “Come on, there’s one more thing I want to show you before we leave.” 

Noemi blew on her hands before she stuffed them back in the pockets of her down jacket, following him out the door. She had gotten it a few months after she had been hired by the team full-time; there were a few different people on the social media team, so she didn’t go on every road trip, but it had become an invaluable addition to her wardrobe. She had made the foolish assumption that a November in Calgary couldn’t be too cold, and had only brought a fleece and a raincoat on one of her first trips with the team. It had been one of the worst mistakes of her life, and she had ended up having to run out to a Canada Goose outlet during her lunch break just so she wouldn’t freeze to death. 

Noemi wasn’t sure where they were going, but supposed that she wasn’t in a place to be very skeptical. It was only her second time in Switzerland — she had flown out the summer prior to visit with him and his family — and she certainly wasn’t an expert, so she followed her boyfriend down the street and around the corners of tiny stone-faced apartments and old churches, a light sprinkling of snow dusting itself on her beanie. They walked for a few minutes before coming to the banks of Lake Zürich, where icy water would normally be lapping at their toes, even in January. Noemi hadn’t taken much of a look at the lake on the drive in; if she had, she would have noticed that it was completely frozen over, with couples walking and children playing tag even at the comparatively late hour. 

He squeezed her hand as he stepped onto the ice. “Come on, babe.” 

Noemi bit her lip. “Are you sure it’s safe?” 

Timo nodded. “I called and asked a friend of mine the day before we left, it’s been frozen for almost a week and the weather hasn’t gotten any warmer. It should be at least nine, ten inches thick. Plenty safe.” So she let him take her hand, pulling her out to step gingerly on the ice, one foot in front of the other. 

“Does it freeze often?”

Timo shook his head. “First time since ‘65. You’re getting something special here, No.” The snow gave their feet some purchase on the ice, and it was only a few minutes before they were standing where the middle of the lake should be, looking up at the jet-black night sky. “Can you see Cassiopeia?” Timo asked, looking up to the sky, his hands jamming in his jacket pocket, playing with what Noemi could only assume were his keys. 

After their first date, dinner and a comedy show, they had driven to a stunning viewpoint on the outskirts of the city, bringing a blanket and laying outside stargazing and lazily kissing until they had to go to sleep sometime after midnight. “I could stay here for hours,” he had murmured as she lay against his chest. “Don’t think Boughner would take too kindly to you being late for morning skate,” Noemi had said. But she wasn’t arguing; she would have stayed there the rest of the night if they could. And Cassiopeia had always been her favorite constellation, the first one she pointed out to Timo that night, and one she loved just as much almost two years later. 

It took her less than ten seconds to find it, the familiar “W” beckoning her just like it had a hundred times before. She looked back to where Timo had been just a moment before, mouth half-open, ready to show him the stars. 

But he wasn’t there. Well, not standing, at least. He was kneeling on the ice, a blue jewelry box with a ring inside it balanced in his hand as the other reached out gently for hers. She gave it to him, of course she did. “Noemi Francisca Silva, you came into my life when I least expected it. I didn’t think I wanted a relationship, you weren’t sure either, but somehow after a few months of trying to be ‘just friends,’ we realized that just friends wasn’t going to work. And God, am I glad we figured that out. You’ve somehow fit in my life so perfectly that I have no clue how it ever worked before you were there. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but even more than that, you’re so full of joy, you’ve always got a kind word to say about anyone, and you’re the best person anyone could ever ask for to have in their corner. I’m so glad you’re in mine.” He paused for a moment, looking back up at her with a half-smile on his face. “You asked what Kevin wished us good luck for back at the airport. Well,” he shrugged, “this is it. Noemi, it’s been the honor of my life to get to love you, and I can only hope you’ll let me do it for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?” 

For as worried as she had been about the ice not twenty minutes before, Noemi barely paid any mind as she crashed down next to him, their foreheads touching as his shaking hands slid the ring onto her wedding finger. It was the easiest answer she’d ever given in her life. “Yes.”

 --

As Noemi straddled Timo in the driver’s seat of his SUV two days before their wedding, the bags of falafel having long since been abandoned in the back seat, she thought that she had never been so grateful for tinted windows and early sunsets. “The milkshakes are going to melt,” she gasped out as his fingers started to trail up her shirt, playing with the line of her bra. 

“We’ll throw them in the freezer when we get home,” he said. Well, there’s not really any way I can argue against that, Noemi considered. So she let him pull her shirt off, undo the buttons on her shorts, and grab a condom from the center console — he had made damn sure to clean it out before filming a “what’s in my car” bit with the video team earlier that week — and slid into her as she tried desperately to keep her moans in check. “It’s okay, baby, let it out. I want to hear,” he said. 

And she was in no place to argue. So she gasped and whimpered while he moaned underneath her, the seat tilted back just enough for him to hit her just right. And Timo knew almost everything about Noemi. You don’t get to be together with someone for over two and a half years without learning about them. He knew she liked waffles over pancakes and hated having to get up early and how she almost cried the first time she got sent to the principal’s office in third grade. He knew her body better than she did, how to send her crashing into an orgasm that left them both breathless with tired, goofy grins on their faces after. 

But as Noemi steadied her breathing, looking out the window — the parking lot was still mercifully empty — she thought that maybe she’d leave out the fact that they had just fucked right across the street from her childhood church. At least we’re not trying to get married there, Noemi thought. I’d take up the whole damn time for Confession just for the past month. 

---

Noemi stuck her head out of the door of her seventh-floor hotel room. The coast was clear. It was the end of February, ten months after they had gotten together, and the team was in the middle of their last big Midwest sweep of the season. Going through the Central Division — plus a stop in Toronto — was incredible and Noemi was shaking herself awake every morning, realizing that this really was her job, but it was also exhausting, and as much as it may have seemed counterintuitive, lonely at times. Well, lonely in a particular way. She had the rest of the social media team, and she was friendly with most of the athletic training staff, and she saw the players pretty much every day, and she was friends with most of them. But the team was a little more than halfway through the trip, and she’d barely gotten to spend any time with Timo. Sure, there were meals, and the few off hours they got had been amazing — when they played the Preds, it was her first time in Nashville, and walking around Music Row had been the highlight of her weekend — but it wasn’t the same as if they were back in San Jose. 

Okay, if she was being totally honest, she missed the sex. It obviously wasn’t like she was finding it impossible to go without, she had dealt with it just fine when he was on a roadie and she was back home, but knowing that they were so close but couldn’t quite get there was a special kind of torture. Until now, when Timo had texted her just five minutes before. Kevin’s just gone out for a run, says he’s getting food after, some baked potato place or whatever. Idk. He’s weird. Anyways, coast should be clear for an hour or so 👀 

Noemi had initially rolled her eyes at the message, not even sure if she’d text him back, but the more she thought about it, the more she was tempted. Fuck it, she thought, texting him that she’d be right over. Which is how she found herself trying to sneak the 50 feet over to Timo’s room without being seen. Everyone knew they were together — they had for months — but the last thing she wanted was to have to explain to Erik Karlsson that the reason she was out pushing curfew was that she just really, really wanted dick. The poor man didn’t need to know. 

So she barely had to tap her fingers on Timo’s door before he swung it open, walking her back towards the bed while holding her around the waist. His knees hit the edge of the bed. Thank God there were two; she wanted him, sure, but even she wasn’t about to cross the line that was having sex in her friend’s bed an hour before he was set to sleep in it. She fell on top of him, sighing as his hands wandered under the hem of her oversized Santa Clara t-shirt, a mainstay from her college years. “Gotta get this off of you,” he mumbled. 

Noemi let out a breathy laugh. “Good things come to those who wait.” She barely had time to let out a gasp before he flipped her over. “It’s only been, what, a week?” Noemi asked, giggling. 

“Too long,” Timo replied, his lips trailing down the column of her neck. Her shirt was quickly forgotten on the floor, his following after a few minutes. She had gotten so worked up over the past week that he barely had to spend two minutes between her legs before she was pulling his mouth back up to hers, her hands fumbling with his belt buckle before finally getting it undone. “Fuck, one second,” he breathed, half-falling off the bed as he stumbled over towards his suitcase, zipping open the inner pocket before pulling out a condom. “You ready, babe?” he asked as he rolled it on. 

She nodded quickly. “Get over here.” He had just pressed into her when the door opened. 

“Brought back some fries to share, thought it would be nice since you didn’t get a chance to—” Kevin hollered as he walked into the room, while Noemi tried frantically to grab anything she could to cover herself. “Oh God. Jesus. Were you two just fucking?”

“In a manner of speaking?” Noemi said, pulling Timo’s dress shirt tightly around her. 

“God, why would you two? I’m not even going to ask. I don’t want to know. You two are gross,” he said, though he had the tiniest of smiles on his face when he finally brought his hand away from his eyes. “I’m going to, I don’t know. Go down to the lobby, and...Watch CNN or something. Be done when I get back.” 

He was gone just as quickly as he had walked in, and Noemi fell back on the bed, her face buried into the nearest pillow. “We’re never going to be able to live that one down, will we?” she asked hopelessly, already knowing the answer.

“Nope.”

---

 A month or so after he proposed, when the post-engagement glow had begun to fade and the equal parts excitement and apprehension about planning a wedding began to set in, they had to figure out how they actually wanted everything to work. Where and when and how and how many, things neither Timo nor Noemi had ever even considered went into planning a wedding. Things like figuring out if their vendor provided linens or if they had to rent their own, things like what to do with the flowers after the reception was over and how to reserve a block of hotel rooms. Enter Mohana. Noemi had been an art minor in college, focusing on watercolor  and digital design, so she sent over bits and pieces, links to Pinterest boards and concept art, and then handed off the responsibility. 

It was important to Timo that the wedding be during a time of year where the team would be able to make it; sure, summers were free, but everyone had vacations to go on and family to visit and he really didn’t want them to have to go to the expense of flying back to California just for a weekend. Even though he knew without a doubt that they would. And neither he nor Noemi thought it was a good idea to do it in spring — spring meant the playoff push and their schedules being filled even more than usual, and they didn’t want it to turn into just one more thing to worry about. Which meant fall or winter, but fall could be hectic with the season starting and most of the weekend dates for their venue had already been booked up. Which took them to December. Her own parents hadn’t really cared, but Noemi’s grandparents hadn’t been exactly thrilled when she told them she wasn’t having a church wedding. They got over it pretty quickly, though a lengthy call from her mom might have had something to do with that. 

Noemi wasn’t initially a huge fan of having a Christmas wedding. Though, really, it wasn’t even a Christmas wedding — it was on the 22nd — she was worried that people would have already settled in with their families, that she’d be disrupting plans and dynamics and traditions, that everyone’s toes would freeze off during the ceremony and suddenly their plans would be waylaid by having to take half the bridal party to the hospital to be treated for frostbite. She might have been exaggerating on the last one a little bit; even Bay Area Decembers rarely dipped much below 50º in the afternoon. But the winery they had chosen as their venue was available, and Mohana loved planning winter weddings, and Timo’s family had already been planning to fly over to spend the holidays with them. And red was her favorite color. So, all things considered, it was an easy sell. 

Planning the wedding itself turned out to me more difficult than either of them had anticipated. The Sharks’ season ended abruptly in the Cup finals that year, so they both got what planning they could out of the way before leaving for Switzerland. Cake tasting was done two days before leaving, and she had ordered her dress in March. Facetime meetings with Mohana were usually done in the California morning, which meant that more than once, she had been explaining vendor costs and asking if they preferred peonies or poppies as they were cooking dinner in his parents’ house. Noemi headed back to California in late August — she would have stayed longer, but was limited to a ninety day stay in a six month period without a visa and didn’t feel the need to go through the trouble when Timo was following a few weeks after. It wasn’t ideal, and she missed him more than she wanted to let on at times, but a month came and went and they were reunited. 

--- 

A soft knock came on the door of the bridal suite. “Everyone decent?” the voice asked.

“We’re good!” Emily called back. It was a no-brainer for Noemi to pick her sister as her maid of honor, who had nearly cried when she asked her early in the summer.

Patrick stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him. “Can’t have him see you before,” he said jokingly. 

“Wouldn’t want that,” Noemi said, smiling softly. Patrick had stuck around after his retirement, working with the player development staff during the season. Everyone was the better for it, and they were all so grateful to have him still be a part of the family. Even apart from his consistency and dedication on the ice, he had always been a natural leader of any locker room he was in, mentoring younger players without being asked and always being there for anyone who needed him. “It’s what the team dad does,” he always said. 

So it was only natural that Timo and Noemi had wanted to find a place for him in their wedding. He had been all too happy to step up and help them with last-minute preparations the morning of, checking in with their wedding planner Mohana and helping to get all of the organizational details squared away — he had even driven back to the hotel the guests were staying at to pick up one of the groomsmen’s shoes when he had realized he had brought the wrong pair. “You feeling good, kid?” 

Noemi looked at the clock on the wall: half an hour until the ceremony started. She gave him a nervous smile. “Definitely got some butterflies, but they’re good ones. I’m excited.” 

The corner of his eyes crinkled. “Good, I’m glad. I remember when Christina and I got married, I was nervous, sure, but I knew. Knew she was the one, knew she was it for me. I’m glad you and Timo found each other, Noemi. A piece of advice?” She nodded. “Don’t get so caught up in the nerves and feeling like you need everything to be perfect that you forget what the day’s about. It’s about celebrating you, and him, and this marriage that you’re going to be building together. The photos will turn out great, nobody’s going to get food poisoning, and you won’t trip walking down the aisle. So don’t overthink it.” 

“Patrick, I just put my makeup on,” Noemi said, dabbing under her eyes with a napkin. “You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to cry.” 

He bent down, kissing her on the cheek. “You look beautiful, Noemi. This is your day. Enjoy it.” 

Patrick opened the door to the guy’s room just as Timo finished fastening his cufflinks. He looked up. “Were you just with No?”

 Patrick nodded. “She looks amazing, Timo.”

“Course she did,” he said, like it was the easiest answer in the world. ”How was she?” 

“Good. Nervous, but good. She’s with the girls, they were all drinking mimosas or something while they did their makeup,” Patrick said, sitting on the arm of the couch. 

Timo’s eyebrows lifted. “Was she in her dress?” 

“No,” Patrick said, rolling his eyes. Well-meaning though he was, he knew that Timo had been pestering Noemi to show him at least a glimpse of her dress, to no avail. She had ended up keeping it at her parents’ house when his bothering got to be too much. She loved it though. “You’ll see her soon.” Not soon enough, Timo thought. 

“You here to impart some sage wisdom, Patty?” Kevin asked, poking his head out of the bathroom as he straightened his tie. Red for the groomsmen, a subtle plaid for Timo. 

“As a matter of fact,” Patrick said, “I did have some things I thought about if you’d like to hear them.” 

Timo nodded quickly. “Of course.” It wasn’t just that he respected him for his role on the team and his former place in the locker room, it was his dedication to his family and healthy marriage that made him immediately tune in to whatever he had to say. 

“I know you’ve probably already figured this out already, having been together for as long as you have and living together now, but in case you haven’t. When you’re in a relationship, a marriage especially, you’re on the same team. You’re going after the same goal. Happiness and comfort and strength. Remember that. You’ll have disagreements, you might fight, but don’t let that overshadow the fact that whatever issue you two are facing, you’re meant to go at it together. Two,” he ticked off on his finger, “you’re going to have to compromise, probably more than you realize. Whether it’s what kind of take-out you’re going to get or where you’re going for vacation or what you’re going to do when you hang up the skates, listen to what she says, think about your priorities as a couple, and talk it out. And sometimes you’re going to have to learn when to let it go and let her win, regardless of if you think you’re right or not.” 

“I’m learning that one,” Timo said as he finished tying his dress shoes. 

Patrick smiled. “Good. Last, and probably the most important one, this is your priority now. Your marriage is your priority, she’s your priority. You said you guys talked about kids, yeah?” Timo nodded. “When you have kids, then, your family comes first. Your kids come first. I know it’s sometimes hard for people in our positions to wrap their brains around, when your whole life has been nothing but going to the rink and going to the gym, but there’s things that you’re going to need to prioritize over that, and that’s okay. The team understands it, everyone understands it. If you miss an optional skate to drop your kids off at school, or take off the gym for a week in the summer to go on vacation. If you’ve got to miss a game because your wife’s having a baby, or you take a call in a meeting when you shouldn’t because it’s Noemi and she needs you, that’s okay. Balance doesn’t come naturally to hockey players, hardly ever, but it’s something you’re going to need to learn, even better than you might think you know now. You do that, and you’ll be alright.”

There were less than ten minutes until Noemi had to leave, and Emily had just finished fastening the last button on her dress. Noemi took a deep breath, smoothing over the lace at her hips and straightening the edges of the three-quarter sleeves. “God, it’s really about to happen, isn’t it?” she asked in awe. 

Her mom squeezed her shoulder. “It is.”

“You need me to drive the getaway car?” Alise, her best friend from college asked, eyebrows raised, one hand playing with the skirt of her crimson bridesmaid’s dress. “I like Timo, I really do, but I love you more.”

Noemi let out a snort. “Thanks, Alise, but I think I’m going to have to pass on this one. We put down a fat deposit on this place and I wouldn’t want to lose it.”

“Pity, I just got the tank filled.” 

One of her other bridesmaids brought over the veil, gently tucking the comb in right above Noemi’s low bun. Noemi brushed her fingers over the comb’s pearls and clay flowers, remembering when Timo presented it to her as an early wedding present. “I was thinking it could be your something new.” Her late grandma’s pearl earrings were her something old, a ribbon from her mother’s wedding dress was wrapped around her bouquet, and a blue-edged handkerchief was pinned on the inside of her dress. Needless to say, it was gorgeous, and as Noemi slipped on her heels, she couldn’t help but think that it had all worked out better than she could have imagined. 

Mohana poked her head in, pushing back her dark hair as she smiled at the room. “Everyone ready?” 

“Bridesmaids are good,” Emily said, looking around. “No?”

Noemi nodded, taking yet another deep breath. “Good to go.” 

“Bouquets are outside, I was just with the guys and everything’s perfect, ties are all tied, boutonnières are all in. The second shooter got a few really sweet pictures of Timo’s mom putting his in.” 

“God, I almost forgot about the pictures,” Noemi said, even though the photographer had been in the room while everyone was getting ready. 

“Alright, let’s go get my bride married!” Mohana beamed. She handed everyone’s bouquets to them as they exited, ending with Noemi. She had designed the bouquets herself, white poppies and red roses and eucalyptus branches all tied together with her mother’s ribbon, but the florist had really outdone herself. A perk of working with the business end of the team was that it took her almost no time at all to get the vendor contacts that the team used for all of their formal events, and a perk of being a WAG was that it took her one text in a group chat to get the number of one of the South Bay’s best wedding planners. And Mohana Kaur had been nothing short of a lifesaver. She had taken Noemi’s vague sketches and fabric samples that she had picked up at Michael’s and turned it into what could only be described as a winter paradise. 

The flower girl, Noemi’s niece Elle, grabbed her basket of petals, looking back at her with delight. “Flowers, Auntie No!” 

Noemi nodded, beaming back at the little girl. “Very pretty flowers, El-bear. You remember what to do with them?”

“I go after Tobias,” Tomas’ son was their ring bearer, and had honestly occupied most of the attention at the rehearsal, not like she minded, “who goes after Mommy, who goes after Auntie Emily. And then I throw the flowers while I’m walking.”

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Noemi said, bending down — as much as she could in her heels — and gathering up the youngest Silva in a hug. She loved her four-year-old niece more than just about anyone, and it was moments like this that made her that much more excited to have children of her own someday. Mohana had silently gotten all of the bridesmaids in order, looking at Noemi as soon as she stood up. “Showtime?” Noemi asked.

Mohana gave her a wide smile. “You know it.” After giving her attendants one last cursory look, she laid a gentle hand on the space between Noemi’s shoulders, left bare from her open-backed dress. “You look gorgeous, Noemi, and the wedding’s going to be incredible.” With a nod of her head, she led the wedding party down the halls of the winery, stopping at the oaken set of double doors that stood as the only barrier between Noemi and the rest of her life. She could hear noise behind the doors, the chattering of the people most important to her in her life. 

Emily turned back towards her sister, squeezing Noemi’s hand. “I love you, No. You picked a good one.” She stepped off to the side as the doors opened, and one by one her bridesmaids walked out, then Tobias, then Elle, until it was only Mohana left. She gave Noemi’s veil a final adjustment, and then the music changed. A gorgeous acoustic version of Coldplay’s Yellow, one of Noemi’s favorite songs and one that had become something of a theme in her and Timo’s relationship. It was playing in his car the night of their first date, she was wearing a yellow dress when he told her he loved her for the first time, they had gone to a Coldplay concert at Levi’s Stadium the summer before the wedding, just after he had flown back from Switzerland. 

Noemi took a deep breath, looked down at her ring, and stepped out the door. Some of her friends had been surprised when she told them she’d be walking down alone. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her dad, or wasn’t close to him — the opposite was true. She just felt that there wasn’t a need to feel like someone was “giving her away.” Nobody but herself had the power to do that, so nobody but herself needed to be a part of that element of the ceremony. It was the same reason she had chosen to hyphenate her name instead of just taking Timo’s. She had always loved the idea of a family having the same name, of everyone being easily identifiable as being connected to one another in that sort of way, and she didn’t like the seeming disjointeness that would happen when they had kids, even if if wouldn’t matter to anyone but her. But she also loved her name, loved how it sounded and what it meant and the connection it gave to her ancestors. So Silva-Meier it was. 

Her veil trailed behind her as she made her way down the aisle, past the rows filled with 200 of their friends and family who had proven invaluable resources and support over the nearly-three years of their relationship. She risked a look at the end of the aisle, just off to the side of the eucalyptus-and-rose edged wedding arch. Where her fiancé was, the last time she could really call him her fiancé. Timo wasn’t necessarily more stoic than most of the other men she knew, and he was actually a fantastic communicator, but he wasn’t always one to show his heart on his sleeve. No such uncertainty today. The corners of his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, a few of which threatened to escape down his cheek. Kevin tapped him on the shoulder, handing him a handkerchief. I hope the photographer got that, Noemi thought distractedly. 

It sometimes was hard for Timo to outwardly show his feelings, especially at the beginning of their relationship; Noemi loved Timo wildly, and there was no doubt in her mind that he felt the same, but Switzerland was never known as a particularly warm-and-fuzzy country, he was still an NHL player with all of the expectations and influences of hypermasculinity that came along with that. There were three times in their relationship where Noemi could remember seeing him cry. Eight months into their relationship, when her mom, Katherine, had had a stroke, he sat with her in the chapel of O’Connor Hospital as she sobbed harder than she ever had in her entire life, and he cried with her. The second time was when he proposed, and when she said yes. The third time was the May before, when the Sharks had gotten within one game of finally hoisting the Stanley Cup but fell to the Capitals in Game 6. At home. She had seen him lose games, seen him lose playoff series’, but that had been a whole new kind of hurt that she had never seen from him, and one that she never wanted to see again. 

This was the fourth, and as she reached the end of the aisle, Noemi couldn’t help but think that if she reached up to her eyes, they’d be wet too. Noemi handed her bouquet off to Emily, and reached over for Timo. “Your hands are shaking, No,” he murmured as the crowd settled back down, their officiant extending a welcome to the crowd that the two barely paid attention to. The introduction, the invocation, all went by in the blink of an eye. “Timo, would you like to go first?” the officiant asked. Noemi had been so caught up in the surrealism of the day that she barely realized it was time for the vows. 

“Of course,” he said, giving Noemi’s hands one last squeeze before beginning. “I always thought it was cliché when people say that love comes into your life when you least expect it, or when you’re not looking for it. A 23-year-old in the NHL usually isn’t looking to settle down and get married anytime soon.” Noemi gave a watery laugh. “But with you, I quickly discovered how right that was. Noemi Francisca Silva, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and, somehow, you fill parts of myself I didn’t even realize were missing until you came along. I could go on for hours about how much I love you, everything about you. I love how whenever Hozier comes on the radio, you turn the volume in the car up so loud I can’t hear anything else, even when you’re singing along. I love how you never wrap a present without curling the ribbons yourself, no matter how many times I tell you we can buy bows. I love how you don’t even have to ask me what kind of pizza I want when we order anymore, because you already know. But most of all, I love how you’re my partner, my best friend, the person I love the most in this world. And in a few minutes, you’ll be my wife. I love you, No.”

“You had an unfair advantage,” Noemi said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m calling a foul.” She took a deep breath. “When I look back on our relationship, from the first time we met, to our vacations, to our anniversaries, to the day you proposed, there’s one theme that I keep coming back to. It’s the first thing I thought of when I sat down to write these weeks ago. It’s how you never fail to make me feel so unbelievably loved. It doesn’t matter where we are, or who we’re with. We could be at one of the fundraisers, where you’re meant to be schmoozing with Silicon Valley tech execs, or at a party with our friends. You hear me, you see me, and when I’m with you, I feel like we’re the only two people in the room. The biggest piece of relationship I ever got, from my vovó, was to marry someone who makes you want to be a better person. I’ve never met anyone who does that as well as you do, Timo, and you don’t even have to do anything. I’m a better version of myself, the best version of myself, just from being around you.” She paused, going over the words that she had been rehearsing in her head for two weeks straight whenever her fiancé was out of earshot one last time. “Du bosch mine Schatz, und Ich lieb di Bis dass de Tod eus scheidet.” 

Timo’s breath caught in his throat at her words. He knew that Noemi had been trying to pick up bits and pieces of Swiss German, but he wasn’t always there to help and it was a notoriously tricky language to pick up. That she had done it on her own made it all the more meaningful. “Timo, do you take Noemi to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?”  He spoke without hesitation. “I do.”

“And do you, Noemi, take Timo to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others for so long as you both shall live?” Giving her answer was as easy as breathing. “I do.” 

Her nervous hands slid Timo’s wedding band onto his left ring finger, and he moved hers into place above her engagement ring. “Now that Timo and Noemi have given themselves to each other with vows, the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I pronounce that they are husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” 

Noemi had had a lot of kisses in her life, more than she could count. There was her first boyfriend, and senior prom, and college parties, and everything in between. But when Timo’s lips met hers, underneath the sprig of mistletoe that hung from their wedding arch, as he became her husband, she knew without a doubt that this was her favorite one.

[ovvnwords]

I WANNA WATCH THE WORLD BURN AND EVERYONE GET MEAN!

* isabela merced, cis girl + she / her | you know devon averescu, right? they’re twenty, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, five years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to stupid girls by p!nk like, a million times this year, which makes sense ’cause they’ve got that whole bringing a knife to a gun fight, spilled slushie on hot pavement so it turns that dark red kind of color, fashion looks inspired by paris hilton circa 2006 thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is janurary 15th so they’re a capricorn, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( mackenzie, 21, est, she / her )

warnings for neglect, crime, addiction, disappearances, theft ( all mentions , no graphic descriptors  )  .

much like she is now, devon came into the world kicking and screaming. its hard not to realize that she’d come to fight for attention from her mothers more .. appealing aspects, but she did her best. born to esther last name, the only ones who were in the delivery room were devons own mother and her grandmother  ( sid and esthers mother ). dad was nowhere to be found and that’s a similar mainstay throughout devons life.

she’d lived in the last name house for a while, until esther had decided she didn’t want to raise her daughter to be an essential pawn in her mothers little crime game. the same one she’d grown up with playing all her own life. one night, esther had booked it out of there with devon in tow and moved to raleigh —— it wasn’t as far as she’d like to get away, but it did the trick. of course her grandmother had eyes on her, it seemed, but didn’t exactly chase after them. esther presumes she’d been kicked out of the will and wasn’t welcome back which .. as far as devon knows, probably isn’t far off from the truth.

the pair weren’t exactly the worse off on the block. they had food most times, a shitty apartment and esther had a solid job for a while. stripping was something of a release for the woman to bounce back after having a baby. the atmosphere and money were also enticing, but she worked at a diner just a block from their dirty apartment. could have been a lot worse, that’s for sure. no help from devons father ( a one night stand and esther never got his last name, let alone any other descriptors beyond handsome and a flirt ), it was them two vs. the world, and devon had no issue with that.

POSSIBLE NEGLECT TW / growing up meant she had to take care of herself. yes, her mother was round, but working from early in the morning to late at night wasn’t ideal. by the time devon was six, she’d been feeding herself frozen dinners in the microwave and taking her own baths. not exactly safe nor was it conventional, but it worked for a while. this last until devon was a teenager, her bond with her mom only becoming more and more strained until it felt like devon was living with a ghost in her own apartment.

ADDICTION TW / then, esther had started to come home after days of being on binges ; little did devon know, her mom had been akin to a wild child in her high school years, extending until she’d become pregnant with devon at the age of 19 - she swore she’d never return to the life of partying and drugs. one thing turned into another and a man, her mothers supposed boyfriend at the time, reintroduced esther to it. then she couldn’t exactly stop. devon wasn’t only around at this time, she didn’t nessecarillay understand of have the skills to help hr mother kick it again. esther moved the pair back to irving, hoping to kick it herself after a tearful plea from her own daughter.

this helped, a little. except it didnt. the move caused esther to be much more secretive with her habits, hiding it while devon went to school ( or pretended to )  then dipping out before she got home. then she stopped being home altogether. devon had begun to cope with this loss in her own way .. acting out, getting into trouble, staying out late and making friends with the wrong people. pick-pocketing. stealing from friends, neighbors, convenience stores, any place she could slip things into her pocket or make a quick getaway.

DISSAPPERANCE + NEGLECT MENTION TW / then it all became a little too real. she hadn’t heard from her mom in months, despite text calls and her own little investigative research. she’d been talking to the guy back in raleigh, the only she swore to devon she’d stay away from. she’d don’t the last few months in raleigh - only occasional stop back to the apartment to check in, enough so the neighbors though that esther was more of a hardworking mother rather than a neglectful one. one night in the summer, there was a noet on the kitchen table. mom was never coming back, and to call her grandmother.

there’s been moments where she remembers her grandmother. holding her hand along the beach, lots of talk about words she didn’t understand at the time while she sat at the kitchen table. the only numbers her mom had in her phone was the man from raleigh and her grandmother - and its not even an hour after after the police come to the scene that she shows up, too. helping devon pack up her things from the shitty apartment into a nicer car than she’d ever seen in her life, into a house that felt like she had an outsider more than a family member. devons only been living with the rest of the last name family for almost two years, but she’d taken after her grandmothers in ways she’s unsure if the older woman likes or not.

OTHER INFORMATION

honestly kind of feral .. will bite without hesitation ( real )

has an iquana 

i’m tired of thinking i’ll add more once i add her to the doc..