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#i know i fucked up the gutters i dont wanna talk about it

uhhrellys · 4 months

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jangofctts · 4 years

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Are You in Or Out?

Rated: Explicit

Word count: 11.5K yall I am SORRY

Warnings: good lord y'all here we GO-- smut, explicit language, violence and mentions of blood and gore, injuries, unprotected sex (don't be a dick, wrap that stick!), oral (m&f receiving), blindfolding, vaginal and anal fingering, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, spit is used as lube but for the love of GOD doNT DO THAT, there are some dom vibes on Paz’s end

Summary: The job you’re on takes a turn for the worst--Paz comes to your rescue and you're brought to the Covert. There you meet Din Djarin. though during a good natured sparring session, you’re suddenly stuck between an age old rivalry that spirals out of hand. Hopefully an agreement can be met.

a/n: hey...how y’all doin....SO lemme explain you smthn. I said helmets must be OfF--giv me them LIPS BABEY so this is a slight AU in which mandos can see other mandos’ faces. ya get me? I also tHot that it would be nice and fun to set the timeline 5-6 years BEFORE the plot of the Mandalorian so we gots a younger din here. anyway, as always enjoy and I hope you like!!

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes—

Some as little as burning your finger on the nozzle of a smoking blaster or tripping over your own shoelaces. Simple things. Mindless things.

Nothing that could ever compare to the catastrophic decision of picking up bounty hunting as a reliable source of income.

The little ones were easy—tax evaders and deserters of the Empire—most who’d yield and gladly follow without complaint just at the sight of your blaster pointed between their eyes. And the gag of it is—most of the time you never bothered to load the damn thing.

Reckless.

An invitation for disaster.

But skirting that precarious edge, one little slip up away from plunging head first into inevitable trouble is better than Bracca. Stars—anything is better than Bracca. There’s no glory in bounty hunting but there’s even less in ship scrapping. Abysmal pay in exchange for risking your life on rain slicked metal with only the Ibdis Maw to break your fall.

The guild you work for is considerate—scratch that. Greef Karga is considerate. Sure the flirting is a touch unbearable but it saves your ass in the long run. All easy money bounties set aside for you in exchange for a cheap drink, hollow laughs and sugar sweet smiles.

It’s enough credits to get by—more than plenty to rent a room and charter a ship.

But there’s only so many bounties to capture within the limits of the guild and oh so many people the empty blaster trick works on. And so the credits begin to thin; it gets too expensive to buy off a pilot and the debate over buying food or being able to pay for your room becomes more frequent than the scraprats that skitter inside the walls.

It’s suicide to snag a higher paying bounty because....well—these bounties shoot back.

Whatever.

Might as well die trying. Who knows, maybe you could score big time if you manage to pull this off.

Maybe.

-=-=-=-

You’re not sure who’s more surprised—Karga when you asked for the bounty or yourself when he actually gave it to you.

“Are you sure, kid? This could—“

“End in a fiery shitshow? Yeah—I figured that,” you sigh, swirling your drink with a little complimentary toothpick. “But I need the money.”

“Hah! You’ve got guts, girl.” He flashes you a smile and smooths down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Tell you what. The last assignment was just taken but I’m sure if you run you could catch him. Work somethin’ out.”

Jumping from your seat, you throw on your coat and toss a couple credits onto the table to cover the drink. “What’s he look like?”

“Big fellow—Mandalorian. You’ll know when you see him.”

You shout your thanks over your shoulder and hightail outta there. The landing docks aren’t far, you can see them from here. It’s finding the guy that could pose a problem.

If he hasn’t already left, you bitterly think.

However, it seems the universe is on your side today. Karga was right. He is big. Stands out like a sore thumb against his ship that glitters dully in the overcast sky. Kinda like an oversized blueberry. A yellow and blue blueberry….not important—

“Hey! Hey, you!” You’re so close, just a couple yards away. You swear and hurry up your pace as he steps onto the loading ramp. “Big guy! Large...blue man?”

You trip over your own feet as he turns his head. Fuck—

No way are you gonna be able to bargain with this guy. Built like a fucking AT-AT and probably just as stubborn. After all, no one would ever be dumb enough to come between a Mandalorian and their quarry. You grimace, and suck in a breath—

Before a word even leaves your mouth he interrupts with a steady, unwavering;

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you were going to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I work alone.”

Ok, then. You didn’t want to resort to begging, but you’re kinda running out of options here. You take a steadying breath and plant yourself at the bottom of the ramp. “C’mon man. Look—I’ll let you take seventy percent of the cut and I can—“

“You’ll let me?” He repeats, the staticky tone of his voice dropping into an edge more cutting than broken transparisteel. The metal platting on the ramp vibrates from the weight of his step to move closer; Stars it takes every fucking inch of willpower to hold your ground. “You’re lucky if I let you leave with your life. Get lost.”

Fuckfuckfuck—you should listen. You wanna fucking run for the hills and never look back in case he comes looking to purge your name from the kriffing galaxy. You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. Too bad—you’ve dug your heels so far into this empire of dirt and false bravado that your only way out is continuing to poke the sleeping bear until he snaps your spine or caves.

You have to crane your neck to glare into that dark strip of his vizor, seeing as he’s invited himself into your personal space. “No.”

“No?” He mocks, now toe to toe with your scuffed up boots.

Your teeth clench, a scalding flush burning through your cheeks and all the way down to your chest. He’s toying with you—finding amusement in your stubbornness and apparent lack of braincells for challenging him. “You don’t scare me.”

The man hums, a deep purr that rumbles through his entire ribcage as he raises his gloved hand. You curse yourself for flinching because surely he’s about to crush your skull like a fucking grape, but no. All he does is fix your rumbled collar then pat your cheek.

“I don’t need the extra baggage.”

“I’m not baggage,” you sneer, slapping his hand away. “I can handle myself.”

“With an empty blaster?” He points out, tipping his head to the side. “Your parlor tricks won’t do you any good on this job.”

“I’m a good shot!” You sputter, placing your hands over you hips and mustering up your best glare. “W-when I have ammo…”

“Right.”

Meeting Paz Vizsla, could have gone far better, to put it into the most simplest of words. Jagged and hard to settle into a routine around each other for the journey to Nar Shaddaa in a tiny, old, and cramped freighter ship. Most cycles you have to wedge yourself beside a cargo crate to sleep. In addition to that, how it’s able to break through the atmosphere let alone fly is beyond you—an entire mystery on its own.

At least you’re able to sit in the spare seat inside the cockpit—one of the only places available to stretch your legs. The only problem is that it’s also where Paz Vizsla likes to lurk (well, not lurk—it’s his ship and it’s where he can comfortably fit but—to each their own).

There’s a net of tension still woven between you—each interaction like tiptoeing over eggshells. Though, like all things, it becomes simpler. There’s not exactly any ongoing conversations—you don’t want to pry into a life you know nothing about—it’s not your business despite the cumulation of questions that linger in the back of your mind. You know when to take a hint—not every person is willing to indulge you about their livelihood, and surely not something as secretive and well guarded as the Mandalore.

Familiarity is what you want to call it. Comfortable with each other’s presence with small talk speckled in throughout the never-ending vastness of hyperspace. Compared to the infinite turmoil in your life, slippery footholds and uncertainty—Paz Vizsla is steady. In a way— predictable and safe in the confines of this ship.

You’d even go as far as to label him kind, a friend maybe—if you look past the grumpiness and rather poor taste in corny jokes. You know it’s stupid, no doubt stemming from the deep ache of loneliness that comes hand in hand with staking it out on your own in the galaxy; but you can’t help but wish that this could be a new normal. Not some once in a lifetime thing where you both part ways, fade into the recesses of memory and leave it at that.

If things go well—and rarely do they on a job—maybe you’d pluck up enough courage to ask him if you could stay. There’s no harm in it…right?

-=-=-=-

Well—the cynical part of you was right.

It did end up in a fiery shit show.

Turns out the stupid quarry you’d been tracking excelled in long range weaponry. A former marksman for the Empire to be exact. Guess that tidbit of information wasn’t pertinent. A need to know sorta thing, if you will.

You feel the molten bolt of plasma connect with your side before your ears pick up the sound of a weapon firing, like a crack of lighting in the empty alleyway. And before your body even connects with the duracrete, Paz is returning fire. A brilliant neon red against the hazy blur of shadowy buildings.

Kinda weird how knocking the back of your head hurts worse than the literal blaster wound burned into your side. Shock maybe. Or the heat from the plasma cauterized each veins and artery it tore through and ate away at flesh and nerves. Hm…

You’re sprawled in a wet pool of something—either your own blood or a puddle of stagnant gutter water and damn—you’re wearing your favorite shirt.

It doesn’t matter at this point…

You’re choking on your own air from the big ass hole blasted into your diaphragm, so to say things are looking grim is an understatement.

Nar Shaddaa isn’t your first choice to kick the can on, but hey—not everyone gets the luxury of dying on Naboo. And just as you’re ready to slip away into that sweet, sweet abyss, it seems your fellow armored friend has other plans.

The beskar is freezing against your cheek after he deadlifts you off the duracrete—you remember that plain as day. That and the hushed rumble of Paz’s voice insisting you save your dwindling supply of air instead of apologizing to him—or ordering you to stay alive for kriff’s sake. It’s impossible to argue with Paz—like trying to bite through durasteel, and while those beckoning tendrils of eternal slumber are mighty tempting, you cling to your life with all the strength you have left. After all, inconveniencing someone with a corpse is such a party foul to the highest degree.

The rest is muddled—like dredging up silt and clay in a murky river that just leaves you with a pounding headache between your eyes. It’s a terrible mess of pain and bouts of temporary consciousness, mistaken with fever dreams and yup—more pain. The only consistent is Paz—hovering nearby or settled beside you—through thick and thin as you heal.

There’s no solid reason your brain can conjure as to why he brought you to the Covert—it’d have been easier to just dump you at the nearest hospital and be done with it. You’re not his responsibility and you’re too afraid to ask what it means. Too many possibilities—too many answers you aren’t in the mood to face or untwist.

And so you leave it be, set aside for another time—which brings you to the present day…

You’re splayed over your little makeshift cot, feet propped up on a spare pillow as you scour through a cheesy Coruscanti gossip magazine. It’s years old—the only piece of entertainment you could find other than a weapon in the Covert. And seeing as a massive hole had been blasted through your ribcage, picking up the clever art of throwing vibroblades or shooting targets to pass the time was out of the question.

Even if you’d rather fall into a Sarlaac pit than stare at the wall for hours on end yet again—it hasn’t been all that bad. It’d taken weeks before you regained enough strength to sit up on your own, let alone walk—and walking is putting it lightly. It was more of a stiff legged shuffle better suited on a two hundred year old woman seconds from disintegrating into dust at the mere hint of a breeze.

Not to mention—your right lung was all but shredded. Ripped apart from the plasma bolt and miraculously reconstructed by a more than questionable bacta tank, hopeful thoughts and well wishes. To this very day you still sound like a broken air filter.

Eh.

Could be worse.

At least you aren’t dead.

Just another setback that adds on the growing pile of reasons why never to leave the Covert. Free food, free board and mild entertainment to top it off. Paz had stayed at your bedside for the most part while you recovered—stuck with babysitting your sorry ass until you regained a bit of mobility. The times Paz hadn’t been at your side to stave off the boredom, it was up to you to find your own fun.

Snooping is what Paz had labeled it—but you saw it more as an adventure. You met Din Djarin exploring (lost is what you actually were) in the dimly lit underbelly of Nevarro, after all. Yes, you may have scared the ever loving shit out of the poor guy and yes, he may have singed off your brows with a five foot jet of fucking fire—but hey. No one got hurt.

And you made a new friend. Sorta…Din is difficult to read, subtler in his soft spoken words and quiet demeanor. A bit like a skittish loth-cat at the start, but nowadays it’s not uncommon to find him lounging in the same space as you or hovering over your shoulder, awfully curious in whatever it is you choose to do. Like Paz, Din isn’t overly fond of sharing much information about himself but he never complains after you regale tales of your own vastly fascinating past. He seems interested enough—tilts his head a tick to the right when you speak to indicate that yes, he’s listening despite the unforgiving dark line of his visor.

There are others in the Covert too—some so elusive you have a hard time believing they exist. Shadows of what they once were before the rise of the Empire. And so, you count yourself lucky that you’d been introduced to two others—Aeris Fenn, a young man nearly as tall as a Wookie, and a woman named Ives Arrey; her armor a flashy green—damn near florescent in the light.

They’re nice enough company. Aeris is a chatterbox, his wit sharper than a blade but lacking in any forethought before he speaks. Ives is the far opposite—rolls each sentence in her mouth before she voices it, but in no way is she angelic. Maker—you’d bet your entire left asscheek she’s behind each bad decision and silly shenanigans Aeris sticks his nose into. He never learns—not after a harsh chiding or cuff around the helmet from Paz or the Armorer could dampen is childlike enthusiasm or steer him away from repeating the same mistake over and over.

Though if you read one more kriffing sentence of this garbage magazine you’re about to invite chaos himself to entertain you. Good thing too because just as you sit up to find the red armored Mandalorian—Paz rounds the corner and steps into your little broom closet that hardly passes for a room.

“Paz!” You greet, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Please tell me we’ll be doing something interesting or else I might start ripping my hair out. Or maybe commit a heinous crime—haven't decided yet.”

Paz grunts and shakes his head. “You’ll be doing neither. But today we’ll be sparing—hopefully that will curve your boredom.”

You scrunch up your face. “Sparring? Er, no thanks—I choose life.”

“You breathe funny since your injury,” he says, jabbing a finger between your ribs. “And all you’ve been doing lately is laying around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sneer, tucking your arms over your chest. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be running laps with half a lung.”

“It’s like stretching a muscle, you need to gain your strength back.” He retorts. “This will be good for you.”

You groan and flop back into bed. “I don’t wanna. I was pretty much dead like three cycles ago—cut me some slack, man.”

There’s a brief silence as if he’s mulling over your words, but he’s stubborn. You crane your head to look at him as he says your name with a deep sigh attached to it.

“Truthfully, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” He says it quietly, fragile even, like he’s still expecting you to tip over and die on the spot. You very well might.

You huff. “Wow. Thanks, Paz.”

You feel his heavy stare through the helmet. “What happened to you that night was a mistake. It wasn’t preventable but the least I can do is teach you basic selfdefense.”

You gripe out your complaints but you know you’ve been beat—and well, a bit of your agreement is based on guilt.

Damn it.

-=-=-=-

It’s weird to see Paz without his heavy duty gear—like seeing him naked or a crab without a shell. The only piece he continues to wear is his helmet and padded gloves and under clothes, but it’s still weird. Strange enough that it shocks you tongue into remaining still instead of bitching about this.

He leads you to a wing of the Covert you’ve yet to discover and ushers you through the doorway. The floor is padded, a bit smaller than you expected and already occupied by none other than Aeris Fenn.

It’s a whole other kriffing shock to the head seeing him without the plates and layers of fabric and beskar too. The armor makes him bulkier—fuller and much more intimidating. Now, with only his black underclothes on, Aeris could be the spitting image of a sentient tree. Willowy limbs that stick out like branches as he stretches on the padded mat. He lazily swings his head around as you greet him, his face still covered by the black beskar painted with streaks of red.

“So you choose sparring over knife throwing?” Aeris snorts. “And to think I thought of you as a friend.”

“You think I chose to be here?” You say, grumpy and still upset at the choice of activity. Really, a brisk walk around the Covert would’ve been fine.

Aeris shrugs. “Ah, and I see you’ve roped in my favorite vod. Tch, he uses his fists instead of his words to teach. I wish you luck—you’ll need it.”

You open your mouth to retort but Paz beats you to it.

“Leave.”

“I’ve just arrived, actually,” Aeris scoffs, folding his torso over his other leg to stretch. “Perhaps you could reschedule. After all—our guest is quite free most days.”

Welp—you’re perfectly fine with that. Problem solved.

You spin on your heel and make a break for it but Paz snatches your wrist and pulls you back to his side. “Aeris.”

“Paz,” Aeris mocks, tipping his helmet to the side.

Paz exhales, a long, tired sound and grovels out another plea in clipped Mando’a. Aeris languidly stands and brushes off imaginary dust from the front of his pants. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand your accent.”

“Boy—“

“No, no, it’s alright.” Aeris sighs, waving his hand in a mopey display as if he were told that his birthday party were canceled for the fifth year in a row. “I’d have trouble speaking too if my enormously thick head were cooped up in that little bucket of yours all day.”

You wince.

In the time you’ve known Paz Vizsla, he’s never been one to launch into rash decisions fueled by anger—he lets it simmer and build like an oncoming storm over the ocean. Devastating once it reaches land.

Aeris bobs his head and inspects his black leather glove, picking at a loose thread on the inseam over the thumb. He clicks his tongue. “Or'dinii—you’re going to kill her.”

Your offended scoff is ignored as Paz steps forward; jutting his chin up to even out the few inches Aeris holds over the man. “You still haven’t learned to shut your mouth, boy.”

The tension surges and crackles like a volt of electricity through the air—unresolved and ready to ignite with the sparking embers of Paz’s growing irritation. It’s not a fight Aeris Fenn will win. He’s volatile and hotheaded—but his expertise is in long range weaponry. Precise, deadly and swift—not whatever this little pissing match is heading towards.

Aeris clicks his tongue as Paz digs a fist into the black fabric of his shirt. Paz yanks him forward, the metallic clink of their helmets colliding an unpleasant scrape that pierces your eardrums. Aeris snarls out sharpened words in Mando’a as his willowy fingers shoot up to curl beneath the lip of Paz’s helmet.

In the blink of an eye, Paz lifts Aeris up by his collar and launches him across the room like he weighs nothing more than a couple of down pillows. His helmet meets the wall with a resounding clank, chipping some of the red paint outlining the visor. Ouch.

Like a kicked dog, Aeris clambers to his feet, still dazed and swaying and for a fearful second you think he’ll retaliate. But with whatever braincells he happens to possess today—he instead spits out a venomous curse that even yourself would hesitate to repeat. He leaves without another word, bristling with rage.

Your flash Paz a questioning stare. “The hell was that about?”

Paz waves it away with an irritated grunt. “His heart is in the right place but he is young. Aeris doesn’t understand his place in the Covert yet and I doubt he will for years to come.”

You frown. “Poor guy…”

Paz mutters something under his breath. “Enough distractions. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Y’know…I think that’s enough excitement for today. I think I’ll be going now—“ Your last ditch attempt at weaseling out of this is quickly thwarted the moment you turn your back.

You wheeze as the heel of Paz’s palm shoves into your shoulder blade, the force of it sending you stumbling to the ground. “Paz—“

“Go on. Hit me,” he orders. You squeak, narrowly avoiding the well aimed kick that skims the top of your scalp.

You scramble to your feet, skirting out of range of the oncoming right hook. “So you attack me instead?”

“How do you expect to catch quarries who are bigger than you?” He presses. You hiss as the points of his knuckles dig into the meat of your shoulder.

You dance out of reach and rub your arm, a dull throb flaring up in the muscle. “I dunno—electrocute them?”

“Not if they take you by surprise.”

You screech as his knuckles skim your cheek. Adrenaline pierces you veins and you wildly throw a flaky punch that wouldn’t even impress a toddler. He catches your fist with ease, his entire hand dwarfing your clenched fingers. “You can do better than that.”

You snarl and struggle to rip your hand back. “I’m a scrapper. I don’t fight.”

“No,” he retorts. You fall onto your ass as he abruptly lets go of your hand. “You’re a bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes. “Hardly—why can’t I just stay here?”

Although there’s nothing to see with that swatch of black covering his eyes, you can certainly feel the look he’s giving you. A deep sigh hisses through the vocoder. “You can stay here—“

A triumphant smile splits across your face—

“—but not without contributing where it’s due.”

You puff up your cheeks and let out a dismayed stream of air. “Booo—lame.”

He sighs again and helps you off the floor. “Even if you leave the Guild, what I’m teaching you is helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “I’ll give you a call after I use your invaluable skills to beat up some thug.”

Paz ignores your comment and turns on his heel. “Let’s go through it again. This time use your front two knuckles instead of your whole fist.”

As your eyes land over the stretch of tight fighting fabric over his back an idea pops into your head. It’s a petty move but getting a punch in is fruitless—like trying to beat up a brick wall. You don’t fancy a broken hand and your knuckles are already bruised and swollen to the point where it’s hard to bend them.

And so, without any forethought and with a running head start, you launch yourself onto him, your arms coiling around his neck. It does the job—takes him by surprise and makes him tip to the right.

Aha! Yes!

Your reign of victory is short lived, however—

He latches onto your forearms strung around his neck and yanks. And much in the same way he threw Aeris like a sack of potatoes—you’re no different. For a short stretch of time that feels kriffing endless; you soar through the air, your directional whereabouts violently ripped out beneath you and equally nauseating in the same breath.

Why you ever agreed to this—you don’t know.

Your shoulder blade connects with the mat first, leaving behind a dull sting as you roll and tumble with uncontrollable momentum. Oh, yeah—you’ll feel that in the morning.

Groaning, you thank the Maker that your body eventually settles into a miserable little pile of limbs and pain. But, it seems whatever higher power that lingers in the edges of the galaxy hasn’t decided to put you out of your misery just yet.

A bulky shadow blocks out the dim lighting overhead, and for a brief anxiety ridden moment you’re afraid it’s Paz. You roll onto your back with a pathetic groan, a beg for mercy on the tip of your tongue—but as your eyes flutter open they’re met with an entirely different man.

Din Djarin looms over you, his head cocked to the side as you blink in dumbfounded bewilderment. Ah, hell—

You swallow, a furious heat bitting at your cheeks. “Uh…fine weather we’re having…”

“We’re inside,” he states with a brief glance up to the ceiling.

You purse your lips. “Huh.”

With a pensive hum he offers his hand, you sigh and roll over, accepting his gloved hand. He hoists you up easily and adjusts your rumpled collar. “You ok?”

“Pfft, yeah,” you groan, rubbing your throbbing shoulder. “Never better.”

The low grumble of your name is a cross between disbelief and irritation. Din jerks his head, his attention zeroing in on Paz. “Are you trying to kill her?”

“She isn’t made of glass.”

“She is still recovering—“

Normally you’d intervene, but their bickering is tiring and it gives you the excuse to lie down. By the time one of them caves you’ve counted exactly one hundred and twelve weird ceiling stains. They should get that checked out.

“Very well,” Paz snarls, cutting through your wandering thoughts. “You teach her.”

Din scoffs, his shoulders drawn tight as he stomps over to your splayed out self. “Get up.”

“Geez, fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to test his patience further. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Later he’ll no doubt apologize but right now? He has to prove a point. Din cuts right to it, moves in close to place your clenched fists in the right stance and nudges at your feet until they’re a bit wider than hip distance.

“You have to get in close with a bigger opponent,” he says, stepping into your space until your fists are close enough to touch his chest. “We don’t have much range here—easier to break our guard too.”

“Right. And how would you suggest I do that?”

“You’re always beating me at cards.” Din says, tipping his head to the side. “You have a clever mind. Use it.��

“But I always cheat.” You point out, dropping your guard to swat at a stray hair.

He catches your wrists and returns them to where they ought to be. “Quick enough to get away with it.”

You make a noise of uncertainty but do as you're told. Din takes a couple steps back and with a rough order you begin.

He’s faster than Paz—bats at your guard in quick bursts and steps away when you attempt to hit back. It’s a dance almost—somehow elegant in its brutality of bruises and flashes of pain as you move around one another. Compared to Din, Paz is almost clumsy but unpredictable. Din—despite the rapidness of his attacks and evasiveness, becomes predictable.

He steps to to left—you follow. He rocks onto his toes to jab his fist forward and that’s where you find a break. Punching Din’s helmet won’t do you any good but catching the juncture of his shoulder with your elbow is completely feasible. Too bad that you’re not the only one with a clever mind.

Din uses the momentum of your attack to catapult you to the ground—his own body rolling with you in order to capture you in a headlock of sorts. This sucks. After this you’ll never be setting foot in this Maker forsaken room again.

Din tightens his elbow that’s looped around your throat as you squirm and flail, trapped against his chest. He grunts as your elbow digs into his ribs but holds steady and snakes his free arm across your front, pinning your limbs to your body in an unbreakable vice. All mobility is cut off as his knee pushes between your thighs, locking your leg out into an uncomfortable and frankly quite awkward angle.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you arch as the crown of his helmet skims along the curve of your throat; the bite of beskar frigid and startling against your flushed skin. You can see his visor out of the corner of your eye; glittering and dark like the polished obsidian on Black Spire and endless like the greedy maw of a black hole.

Your breath hitches as he shifts and curls his head closer to your ear. His voice rumbles low and deep through his chest and vibrates against the delicate cartilage. “Yield.”

However much your pride wrestles with the sensible part of your brain, it’s all for naught as you jerk your head in defeat.

In retrospect you should’ve said something—used your voice or made some kinda sound because suddenly Din’s forearm digs alarmingly hard into your windpipe. He read the stuttered jerk of your head as another pitiful act of defiance but no. Nope.

Here you are—asphyxiating.

Not exactly what you had in mind, being strangled by a Mandalorian and all—but a chokehold where you could very well die was not it.

Fuzzy darkness begins to shade the corners of your vision, lightheadedness and a curious warmth that prickles down your spine settling low in your belly. A raspy gasp manages to slip through your blocked off airway, and stars why does this feel good?

“Din—”

Paz’s sharp bark is distant above the ringing in your ears and it all stops.

You gulp in air that burns your throat like refined fire whiskey—hunched over the mat as a large palm rubs soothing circles over your upper back. You cough and roll over, sounding like a dying animal run over by a speeder then hit with a spiked club to polish it off.

You’re quickly herded into Paz’s arms and pulled into his lap. Still wheezing and attempting to recover lost oxygen, whatever Din is trying to say translates into an indiscernible hum against the ringing in your ears.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though neither of them care to listen. Like bristling wolves, snapping at each other’s heels.

“Apologize to her,” there’s not so much as a centimeter of room to argue. “Now.”

It’s nice of Paz you suppose—defending your honor and what not, but you’re not a vengeful person. It was an honest mistake and you want to explain that so Din quits looking like a kicked puppy, yet the sudden touch over your ankle stops you. All the times Din has initiated contact it’d been a friendly pat to your shoulder or ruffling you hair, and while touching your ankle isn’t exactly scandalous it’s certainly an odd place to put your hand on.

Your fingers clutch Paz’s shirt as you eye the man lingering at the bottom of your feet, his gloved thumb unconsciously rubbing patterns into the exposed skin between your boot and your pant leg. “Cyare—I’m sorry.”

You blink and lick your lips. Interesting. “I-I don’t know what that word means.”

His hand inches higher, resting on the swell of your calf. “Sweetheart…darling…loved one—“

There’s a shift—a dark undercurrent that none of you should be dipping your toes into. There’s a million and one things to say or do to sever this at the root, but are you going to? Nah.

Din’s thumb now rests over your knee, goosebumps following in his wake. “Should I keep going?”

It too hot—stuffy with both of their heavy stares locked on your flushed face. You squirm and glance up at Paz who only offers an impassive stare. Great.

“I can make it up to you,” Din continues, his hand stationary—a warm weight even through the fabric of your pants. “If you let me.”

Your mouth feels drier than the desert on Jakku. This…nothing good could come out of what Din is hinting at. This is uncharted territory—launching yourself into the great unknown without any idea of what’ll fester and grow if you agree.

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind—it’s just…it’s never been both of them at the same time. These men are short-tempered, an open flame to jet fuel with deeply seated ire woven into the very fabric of their beings. You’ve barely scratched the surface on the inner workings of their mutual hostility, but you’re bright enough to question if this will make it worse. Tinder and brittle twigs feeding and enabling the hungry flames of rivalry to spiral and consume with chaotic brilliance of a dying star—

But, oh—

Isn’t it worth taking the risk?

You suck in a grounding breath and slowly extend your leg that Din touches, gingerly skimming the toe of your shoe along the inseam of his inner thigh. “H-how would you…make it up to me?”

Din preens at your answer and shuffles closer, lifting your legs so that they rest in his lap. Devotion drips off his words like a fine liquor as he toys with the laces on your boots. “Anything—say it and it’s yours.”

Sparks of molten heat race down your spine and metastasize in your lower belly, spreading through each vein and artery like a some sort of invasive ivy. You spare a look up at Paz as he shifts.

“Go ahead, girl,” Paz assures. “Answer him.”

It’s an unspoken, buzzing sort of thing like the static air before a storm, crackling and surging with pent up energy. You all know the implications of what’s to come—but it’s your words, quiet and steady that irons that nail into your coffin.

“Take me like you mean it.”

The next few moments pass in a dizzying blur, a mess of anticipation as your shoes are yanked off, your pants following soon after and tossed into some unknown corner of the room. Paz helps you out of your shirt, a shiver wracking through your body from the chill, leaving you bare save for your underthings. Yet the warmth that seeps through his shirt and his hands that linger over your ribcage do a lovely job at making up for the cold.

Din shuffles closer and brings his fingers up to cup the side of your face, lowering his head to rest the crown of his helmet on your forehead. “Wanna touch you.”

Your breath hitches as Paz’s hands sweep up your torso, cupping and kneading your breasts. “Y-you already are touching me, Din."

Paz snorts as the rough leather of his gloves scrape over your skin and unhook your bindings. You hardly hear Din over your own whine as Paz rolls your hardened nipples between a forefinger and thumb.

“I want to feel you—without the gloves,” Din clarifies, fighting to keep your attention on him. “Will you let me?”

Maker that shouldn’t even be a question. You moan out your approval, delighted that both of them decide to slip off the padded fabric. Din touches your bare thigh the same moment Paz returns his hands to your tits and it’s exhilarating. The rasp of their bare palms against your flesh is addicting—something so foreign and warm compared to their usual armor and thick layered clothing.

You arch into Paz’s hand as it curls around the base of your throat, a tentative pressure but still heavy. “You’d let us do anything, wouldn’t you? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” you croak, already debauched and falling apart at the seams. “Anything.”

You’re all too happy to fade away in the embrace of the larger man but the other participant is far from letting that slide. Din grabs your hand, guiding it towards the front of his trousers, the drawstrings already loose and easy to pull aside. He groans and twitches as your fingertips flirt along his navel, then curl over the waistband, tugging his pants the rest of the way down to pool around his knees.

You reach for the already impressive outline of his cock pressing against his boxers, but Paz cupping your cunt through your underwear just before you touch Din is distracting. You gasp and arch as Paz digs the heel of his palm against your clit, electrifying ecstasy zipping down your spine with each touch.

There’s a twinge of guilt after Din huffs and drags your limp wrist back to his cock, this time encouraging you to palm him by guiding your actions with his own hand until you lazily oblige. Din’s quiet grunts, gravely against the vocoder do nothing but throw more jet fuel to the fire inside your belly. The growing urge to actually touch him gnaws and corrodes the forefront of your brain. With a firm yank his boxers are quick to join his trousers and Maker—

Fuck—

Will he even fit?

Din is thick, rosy brown and flushed at the tip and beginning to curl towards his bellybutton. A bead of liquid shines at the tip, dribbling down the underside as he wraps his fist around the base of his length. He gives himself a languid stroke before he, once again, reminds your hand of what it’s supposed to be doing. Din is searing in your palm, molten and stiffening to hardened steel in your grip.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” Din hisses as his head rolls back onto his shoulders. “S-so pretty holding my cock.”

Your desperation tears at your insides, insatiable and Maker— you wanna taste him. You want to hear every little stuttered moan and feel each twitch of his hips as he claims your mouth as his own.

But before you’re able to ask Din if he’d be willing to fuck your throat, Paz grips your knee and slings your leg over his thigh, murmuring praise as he peels off your underwear. Paz’s hand snakes down to your pussy and runs two thick fingers through your already slick cunt, then delicately parts your folds.

It’s like a fucking bomb going off as his thumb grazes over your swollen clit. His forearm locks tight around your waist, keeping you in place as you arch and tremble. Paz is feather light and teasing, as he strokes over the little bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow rhythm.

“Paz—“

He nudges your cheek with his helmet and chuckles. “You’re so sensitive, vaar’ika. Such lovely noises too.”

Paz trades in his light touches for using his two fingers instead. They form a relaxed ‘v’ shape, trapping your clit in between the digits as he massages in a steady up and down motion. You cry out, every nerve shocked and flooded with saccharine pleasure, shoving you so treacherously close to that precarious edge of release.

You have no fucking chance as a different set of fingers, leaner in length but just as bulky, carefully prod at your entrance. Din’s pointer finger slides into your cunt, quickly adding a second as your core clenches and stretches for him. The dual sensations over your clit and Din’s fingers steadily pumping and curling inside you send you hurling into that dazzling white-hot pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you cry out—a jumbled mess of their names or just nonsense— pleasure crackling out from your core and all the way down your legs. Your cunt tightens like a vice around Din’s digits, your legs twitching as your high dips into prickly overstimulation. You whine, and swat at Paz’s hand, Din pulling out his own fingers a moment later and wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh.

Your head rests in the crook of Paz’s shoulder as your breath fans across the side of his helmet, fogging up the metal where the blue paint is chipped and scraped away. The shirt he wears smells a bit like sweat but the underlying scent of him is comforting—worn leather and something crisp, like fresh laundry. You don’t mean for the words to slip out—

You know better than that, but everything feels muddled and silly and, and, and—

“I wish I could kiss you.”

It’s like dousing ice cold water on a pile of smoldering coals. A silence, petrifying and like the inhale before jumping off a cliff and into a rocky sea, ensues. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Paz shatters the fragile suspense with a rich laugh that burns away all the icy worry making itself a home in your ribcage. He moves his arm up, his fingers gripping your jaw to fix your gaze onto the other Mandalorian. “You want his mouth on you too?”

You whimper and nod, but it isn’t enough.

“Use your voice vaar’ika,” Paz hums, pressing the crown of his helmet against your cheek. “Tell us want you want.”

“I-fuck—” Paz’s fingertips sneak up your torso, rough callous catching deliciously on your skin. “I wan’t your mouth on me. B-both of you.”

Paz chuckles and releases his hold on your chin. “You’ll have to be blindfolded, sweet girl.”

Din scoffs, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. “Like she’d want to see your face anyway.”

“Please,” you mewl, turning your head to curl into Paz’s neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. “I don’t care. I need—“

“Patience, little one,” Paz purrs, rubbing up and down your bare sides in a soothing manner. All it does is stoke the flames. “You’ll get what you want.”

Paz shifts, reaching for your abandoned shirt and stars—

You can feel his cock, firmer then tempered durasteel and poking into your lower back. Oh, hell—these men are going to ruin you.

You’re nudged forward, your vision going dark once your shirt is securely tied around your head. The knot traps a few hairs that pull sharp against your scalp but the measly pain is worth it. Oh so worth it.

“Is it too tight?” You hear Din ask, concern lacing his gravely vocals.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “S’fine.”

“Cant see anything either, right?”

You squirm, your patience spreading thin. “Din, please.”

“Fine.” There’s no bite to his tone and under different circumstances you’d have more composure. Acknowledge that they’re putting their religion, their whole being into your hands—a fragile trust that could so easily be shattered.

Your ears pick up their subtle movements, their helmets landing onto the thin mat with soft thunks. With bated breath you wait for them to jump into action, seize every spare moment to taste your skin and breathe the same air. But—

“You need a haircut, vod.”

“And you need to shave.” Retorts Din with bitter indignation.

“It’s hardly even stubble.” He chortles. You giggle and twist away as he scrapes his prickly cheek up and down your neck. “Besides—she likes it.”

There’s another lull, and with the blindfold everything is amplified—the quick and quiet breathing of Din on your right and the slide of fabric against skin as Paz shifts. Your attention is captured by Din’s bare palm, warm and calloused like weathered leather left out in the afternoon sun. He caresses the outside of your thigh in smooth, longing strokes, enraptured by the softness of your skin. You whimper and let your leg fall open, exposing more of your thigh for his curious exploration.

The sudden touch on your cheek is jarring. You know Paz is there—it’s not an easy thing to forget the solid chest you’re leaning against but it’s hard to focus. Difficult to settle on one thought before it slips away like grains of sand between a clenched fist. Paz’s touch is heavier than Din’s, ambitious and greedy but…mindful. Even as his fingers spread along your jaw and drag you into a deep, mouthwatering kiss. It’s…stars—

There’s nothing that can describe this. No word that could ever hold a candle up to the way his lips, plush and soft, move against yours. His nose brushes against your cheek as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, his warm tongue sliding against the seam of your bottom lip.

You whine and bury your hand into his hair as Paz groans, a low rumble in his throat. You wonder what color it is, but carding your fingers through the curls atop his head suffices for now.

Your curiosity is abruptly ended as Din’s hand snakes around your forearm. You’re forcibly yanked away, only to be met with another pair of lips. Din murmurs an apology at the sting of his teeth bumping into your upper lip, but the pain is hardly the first thing on your mind.

Din’s kiss is devouring—

Scalding and bright—the galaxy, a thousand suns, all there ever will be and all that ever was. The way his lips move against yours is a devastatingly sharp contrast to the steady, syrupy sweet kiss Paz offers. Desperate and eager to surround you in his own arms—steal away any lingering thought and replace it with him. Din Djarin—

You gasp as Din’s teeth nibble and pull on your bottom lip, only a moment before he surges closer, wrapping his hand around your jaw to hold it open as he licks deep into your mouth. Breaking for air, Din tangles his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck and yanks, baring the column of your throat. His travels down, the tender kisses morphing into teasing nips and lingering sucks that’ll turn into tender bruises in the morning.

Din hovers over your breasts, his heated breath and cooling saliva the catalyst to the goosebumps that rush over your skin. He lightly tugs on your nipple using his teeth, then plants a sweet kiss over your sternum.

“Can I taste you?” Din murmurs, his lips ghosting over your flesh. “Maker—wanna put my mouth on you.”

“Din—“ A different set of lips latching onto the juncture of your neck and hijacks your train of thought. Wipes your mind clean until Paz is the sole thing you can consciously focus on.

Paz laves his tongue over the shell of your ear and urges you to lean back against him once more. Your nose scrapes against his stubble as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his hips lazily rolling his hardened cock into your backside.

“Or…” Paz rumbles, capturing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his. You marvel at the sheer size of his palm—astounded still when he leads his and your hands to palm his cock. “I could give you this. Fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming for me.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Why the fuck do you have to choose? You squirm as Din points his tongue over your nipple then sucks it into his mouth.

Working through the fog in your head, the answer is clearer than fucking crystal. Because who in their right mind would turn down a Mandalorian’s request to eat you out? Not you, that’s for sure. “Din—want your mouth.”

Din huffs in triumph and slips between your legs that part to accommodate his broad shoulders, leaving no patch of bare skin untouched and worshiped. You shiver as his tongue circles around your bellybutton then retreats. Din settles his head beside your knee and mouths a kiss there.

You whine his name and buck your hips, heart beating wildly in your ears. The teasing is unbearable and, stars—if he doesn’t start now—

He nibbles on the inside of your thigh, laving his warm tongue over each mark he leaves behind, buffering the sting of his teeth. Din snake his hands under your ass, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he heaves your cunt closer to his mouth. Din’s thumbs part your soaking pussy, his breath hot fanning over your cunt. His tongue his scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your slit all the way up to your clit.

Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through you. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—fuck. Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are obliterated; nothing but the warmth of his tongue, and his lips, devouring you as if he were a man seconds from death and you’re his saving grace. That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade into smoke—but you’re not going anywhere. Not even a million credits could convince you to push Din’s head away.

He sinks two fingers into your clenching hole and curls his fingers, stroking and curling his fingertips to make you sing. Zeros in on that little spot that causes the involuntary twitches of your leg and wrenches embarrassing, high pitched mewls that fill the room. You’re careening towards your high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Shit—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must hurt. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release unfurls through your body like sticky molasses—smoldering embers that seep into each limb until they’re heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to think and at this rate your brain is as good as gone.

You pay only a fraction of attention to Din as he kisses his way back up your body and lands a final one over your lips. His thumb grazes over your chin, his gravelly words of praise cutting through some of that foggy haze, how good you were, how fucking delicious you tasted when you came on his tongue. You taste your own arousal on his mouth as he noses your cheek and captures your lips in another kiss.

“Are you done?” Paz asks dryly, much too barbed to be thrown your way. You groan when Paz jostles your limp body as he hoists you back into his lap.

“Just starting, actually,” Din quips. “Why don’t you hand her back over? I’ve got some more things I wanna try.”

Paz scoffs and secures a heavy arm around your middle. “Greed will get you nowhere.”

“Neither will your arrogance.”

“Shut up—both of you,” you interrupt. Your voice is raw and choppy but it does the job. “Just fuck me already.”

For now their little spat is sidelined—it’s not worth ripping off that bandage of a temporary truce. There’s a chaste moment of quiet, like they’re considering tearing into each other’s throats instead, but with a touch to Paz’s thigh the standoff fizzles out.

“We need to work on your manners,” Paz suggests, curling his large, calloused hand around your neck in a loose hold. “I believe it’s please fuck me.”

Maybe if you weren’t practically a pile of brainless goo, you’d argue. See how far you can push—though this time you fold. “Please fuck me. P-please—I need it.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer; Paz wedges a hand between your bodies to grip his cock and run the tip through your folds, soaked from you own wetness and Din’s saliva. The head of his member nudges at your entrance, and wether it’s his size or the fact you can’t see anything—you panic.

Your hand shoots out, nails harpooning into the meat of his forearm. “W-wait—you’re too b-big.”

Paz freezes and moves you up his lap and presses a kiss over you hairline. “We can stop. Just say—“

“N-no, I’m fine,” you assure, planting an apologetic peck on his stubbled jaw. Stopping is the last thing you want to do—it was just…overwhelming. A sensory overload testing the very fringes of your being. “Go slow?”

You feel his head bob in compliance as he moves you back to where you’re hovering over his cock. You relax this time, not as many alarm bells clanging through your head as your cunt flutters around the fat tip and then that glorious, first thick inch. Paz’s thumb bumps over your throbbing clit, coaxing your pussy to take him further.

“Yeah, that’s it vaar’ika,” he grunts, his breath fanning over your neck in quick pants. “Taking my cock so fucking well. So nice and pretty.”

Your pussy flutters, fresh waves of arousal hot and burning.You nearly keel over when Paz starts shallowly rocking his hips, easing your body the rest of the way down his length until the back of your thighs touch his. Maker—how the hell is he all the way inside? You can feel him in your fucking guts—

“See?” Paz purrs. He sucks a bruise into the meat of your shoulder and pushes his palm against your lower stomach, making the fit even tighter. “Fits fucking perfect.”

The noise your cunt makes pulling out and the debauched moan that filters through his vocal chords is obscene. If anyone where to walk by, well—it’s certainly not training that’s going on, for the better lack of words.

Paz holds true to his word—keeps his pace limited to deep, languid thrusts that brush up against something that makes your whole body shake—like strumming a golden chord molded to a musician’s fingers. Fuck—he’s doing all the work too. Lifting you by the swell of your hips and pulling you down onto his cock with a rough buck of his hips.

Abruptly, he slows to a gentle rocking—quick to lock you in place as you thrash and roll your hips. “Paz—n-no. Keep going. You n-need to—“

Paz silences your please with a wet, open mouthed kiss. “Our friend looks lonely. Why don’t you use that pretty mouth and suck his cock?”

Din.

You hear the man curse in Mando’a, probably some stab at Paz—

But with a pat to your outer thigh, you don’t need any more prompting—you’d give up your left hand to get a chance to suck him off. With the help of Paz, you’re eased onto your hands and knees, shocks of white-hot pleasure zipping through your core at the change of angle. Like this Paz is seated deeper inside, stabbing into each spot that makes you sing.

Fuck—your arms are shaking—only able to hold yourself up for half a click and then you’re sinking face first into the floor, ass in the air as he fucks into you. Paz clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your front, pulling you back up from your slumped position.

“I told you to suck his cock, girl. Not take a nap.” Paz accentuates his words with heavy, well measured thrusts—the kind of force you know will leave your whole lower half throbbing and sore in the aftermath.

You whine as Paz grabs a hold of your jaw, digging into the tender joints until your mouth falls open. “Good. Keep it like that.”

Paz’s hand falls away, replaced by a softer touch. The pads of Din’s fingers hook under your chin, guiding and tempting you nearer to what rests between his legs, hot and heavy and large.

You feel the tip of his cock, flushed and pulsing, rest on your bottom lip. You lap up the beads of sticky precum with kitten licks that morph into suckling the entire head. Din grunts out your name and tangles his hand into your hair as you tongue at the ridged frenulum. He never forces you to swallow down more of him—lets you cradle the first few inches in the wet warmth of your mouth and languidly roll the pad of your tongue around him.

You want to take him deeper, let Din fuck your throat raw, but your jaw already aches. Your lips are pulled tight around his shaft, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on the mat below. You’re not sure if you could take more of him without the danger of your teeth catching or dislocating your jaw. So you manage like this—hollowing out your cheeks and and using the momentum of Paz’s thrusts to pleasure Din.

It’s frustrating—it must be each time you let his cock slip out of your mouth to breathe or the fact Din isn’t able to fucking fit his cock into your mouth. Annoying that you aren’t able to think properly to help him out a bit ore when that said brain is being fucked straight outta you, put through the wringer and then body slammed onto duracrete.

Din cups your cheek, strokes over your skin with his thumb and maneuvers himself out of your mouth. You whine and lean into his palm, his touch addictive like smoldering coals in the dead of winter.

“You want me there instead of him?” Din purrs, using the tips of his index and middle fingers to tilt your chin and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck you like you deserve.”

The profane imagery of Din between your legs instead makes you clench tight. It only takes a couple seconds and a few more feverish kisses before you’re nodding to his request. Paz mutters a swear, hesitates, and reluctantly pulls out, leaving your cunt empty and aching with need.

Din, however, is speedy—quick to hoard you to himself and yank your legs over his hips so that you’re draped on his lap. He jumps straight to the point, no fancy maneuver or drawn out teasing—just grabs the base of his cock, slides the flushed tip between your folds and sinks into your cunt. Even after your pussy had been stretched and molded around Paz’s length, you struggle to take Din’s entire cock into your aching center. It’s easier than Paz but, Maker—not by much.

You whine, harpooning your fingernails into his shoulder once he bottoms out. Din snarls a curse and latches his teeth onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, prickly pain shooting directly to your belly. “Fucking tight. H-how—fuck.”

There’s no time to adjust before Din sets a pace, harsh and desperate—his hands digging into the flesh of your ass for better leverage. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end before it could be yanked out from under him. Din’s staggered exhales below your ear are interlaced with subdued moans that start low in his ribcage then dip into a higher, airy pitch. A delicate sound you’ll guard closer to your chest than any secret you possess for the rest of your life—precious and yours.

Din turns his head to steal a kiss. “You feel fuck—fucking good. Wanna feel you cum around me. S-squeezed so fucking hard around my fingers—“

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Heat sizzles down each vertebrae in your spine, burning up each and every cell with the brilliance of a wildfire. Stars, this is gonna destroy you.

Din’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of blistering warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Din’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

“Good girl,” Din praises, pace faltering from just how tight your pussy squeezes and flutters around his cock. “S-such a fucking good girl for me.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you realize he’s still fucking going—still rock solid and throbbing, fucking you through the aftershocks of your release. Your arousal turns sharp, like rough cotton over a fresh sunburn as it dips into overstimulation. It’s not unpleasant but Din has to slow his hips to a delicate roll for you to recover.

In the time it takes to inhale, a different calloused hand kneads into your lower back then smoothes up your spine. A second later you feel the scrape of Paz’s stubble prick along your exposed shoulder as his tongue drags along your sweat dampened skin—all the way up the curve of your neck and ending at the shell of your ear.

You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but as Paz crowds closer the tip of his cock pokes at your other hole. With a surprised mewl, you tense and shy away—but he follows, molds his chest against your back to sandwhich you in. The hand gripping your bicep jumps to your neck and pulls your head against his shoulder.

Two of Paz’s fingers dip down the curve of your ass and brush along the puckered skin—far less jarring this time. “Do you want to be fucked here too?”

Maker—

You’re gonna fucking explode.

Stuffed to the brim already, it’s hard to imagine Paz cramming himself in along with Din. A little red light blares in some corner of your mind but it’s quickly soothed as Paz plants soft kisses over your cheek and jaw. You trust him—there’s no reason to think he’ll hurt you or push you to the point of pain.

You catch his mouth with a kiss and rock your hips back. “Y-yeah, ok. I trust you.”

You feel his smile curl against your cheek. “Don’t worry vaar’ika—I’ll take care of you.”

Paz strokes your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses the crown of your hairline as you sink into him. With his ring and middle finger, he pushes past the seam of your lips. “Suck.”

You obey, sealing your lips around his two digits and coating them in your saliva. Paz pulls them out with a pop and moves them between your legs, and with the added wetness dripping from your cunt, the first finger is easy enough. The second and third have you gasping as he scissors them and stretches your tight hole wider. You claw your nails into Din’s shirt—and he’s no better—Din’s own hands are clamping around your hips, struggling to keep still and biting back moans each time your cunt constricts.

Your hips begins to meet the thrusts of Paz’s fingers as your body familiarizes the feel of him there. It’s a deep thrill that rushes up through your spinal cord—much different from anything you’ve felt before.

“You like this, don’t you?” Paz goads, chuckling when you whine as he extracts his fingers. “I think you’re ready to take my cock, yeah?”

You shudder and nod, your voice no more than a squeak as it pilfers out. Paz strokes the top of your head and tips you forward into Din’s eager arms as Paz slicks up his length in a mix of precum and your dripping arousal. He touches the swell of you ass in warning, lines himself up with your hole and wedges the tip of his cock inside of you.

Involuntary tears dampen your makeshift blindfold as Paz buries himself deeper, his rumbling tone urging you to relax—relax even though your mind is drowning in an ocean of arousal and swirling emotions you have no hope to pin down and analyze. It’s for the best—thankful as Paz bottoms out that it wrenches you back to a feasible reality you’re able to manage.

“Shit—I-I’m gonna die—“ You sob, writhing at just how full you are. But there’s nowhere to fucking go—

“Easy,” Din breathes, and you wonder if he’s said it to keep his own head on his shoulders. “Easy.”

Din’s gravelly rasp cuts through the fog in your head, and stars—you sound like you’re fucking dying. Your wheezy breaths and lightheadedness would certainly suggest that—but no…no, you’re fine. Better than fine.

A rush so acute and devastating launches up your spine as Din’s patience cracks. He experimentally rolls his hips and that’s the end of it. You’re swallowed up in that riptide you fought so hard to avoid—fuck. You won’t be the same after this. How can you?

You can feel them both, separated by a thin wall as they sprint towards their own highs. You’re never once left empty—Din reaches the end of you as Paz pulls out and while there’s not exactly any finesse involves it’s the best fucking thing you’ve felt in your entire life. There’s no bickering—no teasing and you’re struck with an idea that makes you clench tight around both of them. You wouldn’t mind if this was the way they decided to settle scores or finally see eye to eye.

This time you can’t discern your high—just a constant overflow of ecstasy and dazzling arousal like an imploding supernova. You cry their names—sob and shake in their hold with such fervor that Paz traps you tighter between them to keep you still.

“Fuck—you get so fucking tight,” Paz growls, blunt nails digging into your hips. “And so fucking wet.”

His fingers touch the inside of your thigh and stars—he’s right. “I get to fuck your cunt next time—see how much you’ll drip for me.”

Even if the blindfold were off—there’d be nothing to see but a white wash of nothing. Blinded by pleasure and bursting at the seems.

Jealous, Din steals your breath away with a kiss, licking and nipping at your swollen lips until you whine his name. His jagged pants fan across your chin—chapped lips and patchy facial hair tickling across your bottom lip as you breath the same air.

Din whispers your name like a prayer, his fingers clutching tight around your thighs as his pace starts to flounder to choppy jerks. “Shit. I-I’m close—“

Your fingers twist into his hair. “Yeah—ok baby. Let go.”

Din’s teeth sink into the base of your throat and cums. His seed coats your insides—hot and copious and fucking shit—if there’s a next time you want him to cum in your mouth.

You don’t get time to relish Din’s stuttered gasps of your name, laced with praise and a show of a tender and bleeding heart before Paz is gathering up your hair in a tight fist and jerking your head up. “You—you want me to cum too? Say it.”

Without a breath of hesitation you beg for it, cry and arch into him. It does the trick—

Paz is loud—shouts a thunderous roar and buries his cock deep into your hole. Din is still recovering from the aftershocks of his release when Paz pulls out after what seems like ages pumping you full. His cock no longer there to plug you up, his cum begins to dribble out and mix with the mess between your legs. Your legs shake and you wobble--crying out as Din slips out, your body dreadfully empty and aching.

You're lowered to the mat by Din and if you weren't still trying to formulate words, you'd thank them. Lips dart over your cheeks and hairline, and for once nothing needs to be said. It’s nice...the radiating warmth from their bodies and the simmering flush through you body is something you could get used to. But you’re no stranger to the shifting tides of the future.

You shrug it off.

Your eyes are heavy and with one of them stroking your hair and the other your thigh, you drift to sleep. Later—later all unspoken things and disastrous words can be dealt with tomorrow. You must be dreaming when it’s said--careless and bold, but the words nestle into your heart and sprouts with fear.

“You love her, don't you?”

translation:

vaar’ika--pipsqueak

or’dinni--dumbass idiot

vod--brother/comrade

tag list:

@bobafctts @djxrxn @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aerynwrites @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @trippedmetaldetector

#happy SINday :)#pls accept some mando schlong #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla #paz vizsla #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #sw #fanfic #my writing #reader insert

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bibbawrites · 3 years

Text

Made Your Mark On Me, a Golden Tattoo - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

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THIS IS PART 10 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 3760 words

Summary: Part 10 of Single Dad!Charlie, Owen comes to LA to stay with Charlie, Margaux and Meghan, and the boys go on their first date

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, implied sexual content pretty sure everyone knows at this point but this does include romantic chowen, remember this is fictional, if you dont like that just dont read :)

A/N: another day another part lol, i have far too much written for this series considering there is no demand for it but i’m enjoying it so i’m gonna keep writing purely just for @happinessinthedarkesttimes and myself lol also! a new nickname for margaux has been unlocked haha she has far too many cause every person keeps giving her their own nickname and ive lost count of how many there are... anyways, enjoy!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @molinaroberts @joynersgoatblog @courageous-she @littlemissaddict @gloomybrieyxb @itsyagorlemmalyn @jatpxmultifan @moneybagmgk @emeliii1 @mybradforddream (the strike through means it wont let me tag you)

Char sent a message to OPJ

Char owweeeennnnnnnnnnn

Char come to la

OPJ why?

Char i miss you

Char wanna kiss your pretty face

Char and your pretty lips

Char and your pretty 🍆

OPJ charlieeeeeee

Char what? i did nothing wrong

OPJ you just said you wanna suck my dick

Char i never said such a thing

Char read the messages, i only said i would like to kiss your pretty face and your pretty lips and your pretty 🍆

OPJ and we all know what that emoji means

Char get your head out of the gutter honestly

Char maybe i just love eggplant

OPJ ugh whatever

Char so will you?

OPJ will i what?

Char come to la

Char we’ve been officially boyfriends for almost three months and we haven’t even had our first date yet

OPJ when do you want me

Char right now

OPJ that’s not possible bub

Char bub?

OPJ trying something, yes or no?

Char meh i don’t hate it

OPJ i’ll keep looking then

Char anyways, i booked you a flight...

OPJ char you didn’t have to

Char i know i’m just so desperate to see you

OPJ what time and day?

Char ...

Char today 3pm...

OPJ it’s 11am now

Char you better get packing

OPJ already am

Char oh i know you are ;)

OPJ i didnt mean it like that and you know it

OPJ you’re gonna be the death of me Gillespie

Char i know ❤️

-

The second Charlie spotted Owen exiting the gate he was jumping into the blond’s arms, glad that they both had masks on to prevent him from kissing Owen senseless with hundreds of people around.

“God I missed you.” He muttered, face pressed into Owen’s neck.

“I missed you more.” Owen replied, pulling back slightly. “Where’s Maggie?”

“With Meghan. She’s visiting for a little bit so she offered to look after her while I came to get you.” Charlie explained, grabbing Owen’s carry on as they headed through the airport to baggage claim.

“Is she staying with you?” Owen asked.

“She is, but I may or may not have booked the four of us into a hotel for a few days. She leaves on Thursday so if you wanna stay after that we’ll just go back to my place.” Charlie said.

“We’re staying in a hotel?” Owen grinned, coming to a stop at the baggage carousel, his eyes focused on looking for his suitcase.

“Yeah! Mags is pumped, she loves hotels, especially high rise ones. We’re going back to mine to collect the two of them then we’ll head there.” Charlie said

“Does Meghan know about...” Owen trailed off, glancing over at Charlie who shook his head.

“I didn’t tell her, I wanted to find out what you wanted to do first.” Charlie replied. Owen smiled.

“I’m okay with telling her.” He said.

“Or maybe we just act like a couple around her and see how long it takes her to notice.” Charlie suggested and Owen shook his head.

“You’re evil.” He spotted his bag, leaving Charlie’s side for a few moments before coming back over, his suitcase trailing behind him.

“Don’t think it will take long, cause the second that front door shuts behind us I’m gonna be all over you.” Charlie grinned, taking Owen’s free hand once the younger boy was back by his side, leading him out of the airport. Owen blushed slightly.

“Can’t wait.”

-

True to his word, the second that the door was shut Charlie was shoving Owen against the wall and kissing him with so much force that he thought his lips might bleed.

“Fuck, missed you so much.” Charlie mumbled against Owen’s lips, groaning when Owen’s fingers dug into his hips.

“Char...” Owen gasped out and Charlie just kissed him harder, wanting to make up for lost time.

“When you’re done trying to swallow each other, we’re in the kitchen.” Meghan’s voice called and Charlie groaned, stepping back from Owen. He didn’t want to stop, but he knew if they kept going they wouldn’t be able to.

“We should go to them.” He said, and Owen nodded, still slightly stunned from the aggression of the kiss.

“Probably.” He agreed, but neither of them made any attempt to move, so Charlie nuzzled his face into Owen’s neck, just taking in the familiar scent of his boyfriend.

“This hotel, how is the room situation going?” Owen asked, his hand trailing through Charlie’s hair. Charlie lifted his head up.

“I booked a two bedroom suite. Margaux and Meghan can share one room and we’ll take the other.” He said. Owen smiled.

“Okay good.” He replied. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” He asked.

“Remember your texts?” Owen smirked, and Charlie’s eyes widened at the realisation.

“Don’t be so horny.” He muttered, hitting at Owen’s arm. Owen grinned.

“Says the guy who just had me pressed up against a wall.” He retaliated.

“We can hear you, you know that right?” Meghan called, and both Charlie and Owen froze.

“We did not.” Charlie called back, and both boys decided that was their cue to head into the kitchen, where Meghan and Margaux were waiting.

“Papa!” Margaux exclaimed the second they entered the room, jumping down off her chair and rushing over to Owen, jumping into his arms. Meghan gave Charlie a look, eyebrows raised.

“So, finally got your shit together then?” She questioned. Charlie glanced towards Owen and Margaux, a smile appearing on his face when he saw the way the four year old was clinging to the blond boy.

This was how things were supposed to be.

-

Less than an hour later the family of four had checked into their home for the next few days and travelled up to the fourteenth floor to find their room.

Once they found it Charlie tapped the keycard against the door and pushed on the handle when the light changed to green. Margaux pushed past him, running into the room and heading straight towards the door to the balcony, pressing her face into the glass.

“Woah!” She exclaimed, standing on her toes to try to see the road below.

“Good view?” Charlie asked, placing the bags he was carrying down on the couch, before opening the door and letting Margaux out onto the balcony, trailing closely behind her as Margaux rushed over to the railing.

“Look Daddy.” She grinned as Charlie squatted down behind her, placing a hand on her back gently.

“Wow look how tiny those people are.” Charlie said, and Margaux giggled.

“They’re ants!” She replied, leaning back into Charlie.

“For someone who travels as much as she does you’d think she’d be used to it by now.” Meghan joked quietly to Owen as the two of them stood and watched the interaction.

“Especially since we lived in an apartment building in Vancouver while we filmed.” Owen replied.

“Kids.” Meghan shook her head in amusement.

“You wanna see your room baby?” Charlie questioned, and Margaux nodded excitedly.

“Okay let’s figure it out.” Charlie stood back up, taking Margaux’s hand and leading her back into the main room.

“Am I gonna stay with you Daddy?” Margaux asked, and Charlie shook his head.

“No you’re gonna stay with Meggy.” He said, motioning towards his younger sister.

“It’s gonna be like a sleepover.” Meghan grinned. Margaux pouted.

“But I wanna stay with Daddy.” She whined.

“You’ll be with Daddy until you have to go to sleep, okay?” Charlie told her, pushing open the door, revealing the room with the two double beds.

“And look at this nice big bed you get to stay in all by yourself. You can fit all of your toys around you.” He added, and Margaux frowned but didn’t protest.

“Which bed do you want Mini? The window one?” Meghan questioned.

Margaux glanced at the beds before nodding. Charlie placed her bag onto the bed, unzipping it to reveal the several stuffed toys and dolls they had packed.

“Look, we’ll put all your friends on your bed.” He said as he placed the toys out onto the bed, pulling out Margaux’s blanket last. “And your blankie, and look how nice this looks. You’ll have so much fun sleeping here.”

“And we can even sing with each other at night, or gossip about secret girl stuff.” Meghan added, sitting on the edge of her own bed.

“What girl stuff?” Margaux questioned, climbing up next to her aunt and snuggling into her arms.

“Butterflies and glitter.” Charlie joked, and Owen rolled his eyes at the reference, turning and leaving the room as a response.

“We’ll stay up all night talking about boys.” Meghan grinned and Charlie’s smile instantly turned into a frown.

“Hey! No.” He reprimanded.

“I’m joking Charlie, don’t be a party pooper.” Meghan rolled her eyes.

“You joke, but we had a full conversation a month ago about how someone wants a boyfriend.” Charlie said, and Margaux looked up.

“I want a boyfriend.” She chimed in. Meghan laughed.

“You’re four, why do you need a boyfriend?” She asked. Margaux frowned.

“Daddy has a boyfriend.” She stated. Meghan smirked, looking up at Charlie.

“Does he now?” She teased.

“Shut the fuck up, you knew that. You literally just asked if I had gotten my shit together.” Charlie said, and Meghan rolled her eyes at him.

“You didn’t confirm it.” She retorted. Charlie shook his head.

“Hey Meghan, Owen’s my boyfriend.” He stated, ignoring the flutter in his chest at those words.

“Wow! Thank you so much for telling me, that’s so nice of you!” Meghan replied, her tone thick with sarcasm.

“Don’t be sarcastic.” Charlie retaliated.

“What’s that Taylor Swift lyric? The one about looking at him like the stars, that’s you and him. It’s honestly about time that you got your shit together.” Meghan said, flopping backwards onto her bed, giggling when Margaux climbed on top of her.

“Tay’s my boyfriend.” The tiny blonde stated and Charlie sighed.

“Who?” Meghan shot him a confused look.

“Taylor Kare. Who played the young version of Bobby in the show. For some reason she’s decided she wants him to be her boyfriend.” Charlie explained. Meghan grinned.

“I don’t blame her, he’s cute.” She said. Charlie shot her a look and she rolled her eyes before sitting up, Margaux clinging to her like a koala.

“Hey Mini, why don’t we go get some food and bring it back while your Daddy unpacks all of your stuff.” Meghan suggested. Margaux smiled.

“Yeah! Can we get KFC?” She asked.

“Of course we can.” Meghan grinned, before turning to Charlie. “Want anything?”

“Just get one of those big buckets of chicken and we’ll figure it out.” He said as Meghan stood up, grabbing her mask.

“Okay. I’m stealing your wallet.” She told him.

“Of course you are.” Charlie rolled his eyes, but handed his wallet over to his younger sister nonetheless, before leaning in to kiss Margaux gently on the side of her head.

“Bye baby, have fun and be good for Meggy, okay?” He said. Margaux nodded.

“Bye Daddy, love you.” She replied.

“Love you too.” Charlie smiled.

Meghan and Margaux left, the four year old chattering away in her aunty’s arms about something she had seen in Bluey, and Charlie waited until he couldn’t hear their voices anymore to move.

“Owen?” He called, starting to head across the suite to the room he and Owen were sharing.

“Yeah?” Owen called back. Charlie pushed open the door, finding a much larger room with a large king size bed in the middle of the room, and a flat screen tv hung on the wall. Owen was unpacking his bag, hanging clothes in the wardrobe, when Charlie entered.

“Meg and Mags went to get food.” Charlie told him.

“Okay cool.” Owen replied, looking up after a few moments and frowning when he saw the look on Charlie’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Remember the texts?” Charlie raised an eyebrow and Owen’s eyes lit up.

“Come here.” He said, but Charlie didn’t move.

“We’ve gotta be quick.” Charlie informed him and Owen nodded.

“Got it.”

And with that Charlie rushed over to Owen, kicking the door shut behind him.

-

They were a naked mess of sweaty bodies and tangled limbs when Charlie decided to bring up their plans for the night.

“Oh by the way, I have our date planned.” He said as Owen played with his hair.

“Am I allowed to know what it is? Or when?” Owen questioned. Charlie nodded slightly.

“Tonight. At 10:30pm.” He informed the blonde. “And it’s a surprise.”

“10:30?” Owen repeated. Charlie hummed in response. Owen sighed.

“That’s all I’m getting?”

“Yep.” Charlie murmured.

“We’re back!” Meghan’s voice called through the suite and both Charlie and Owen jumped up in fear.

“Fuck, get dressed.” Charlie instructed, tossing clothes towards Owen, before calling back to Meghan. “Coming!”

In record time they were both dressed and came out of the bedroom, trying to look as casual as possible as they walked over to the table where Meghan had placed all the food.

“Daddy, you didn’t unpack my stuff.” Margaux pouted, and Charlie placed a soft kiss on the top of her head as an apology.

“Sorry baby, Daddy got distracted.” He told her as he grabbed some food for her and put it on one of the plates Owen had brought over to the table.

“Oh gross, you didn’t.” Meghan groaned, glancing between Charlie and Owen, who had turned a bright red in embarrassment. Charlie just shrugged, a guilty smile on his face. Meghan fake gagged.

“That’s disgusting Char.” She reprimanded. Charlie shook his head.

“It’s natural.” He retaliated. Meghan hit him.

“Shut up, I don’t want to know anything else.” She said. The table fell silent for a moment, before Margaux decided to speak up.

“Daddy we saw a puppy when we were walking.” She grinned, and Charlie pulled a shocked face.

“Oh my gosh, really? Tell me all about it.” He replied, and for the entire meal Margaux rambled, telling them story after story.

-

Just before 10:30, Charlie and Owen arrived at their date destination. Owen looked up at the sign, frowning slightly when he saw it.

“A tattoo parlour?” He questioned. Charlie smiled, despite the fact that Owen couldn’t see it through his mask.

“You’ve been talking about getting a new tattoo, so I figured we could get a new one together.” He suggested. Owen’s frown melted, a soft look replacing it.

“Why is that oddly sweet?” He teased, leaning his head into Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie grinned.

“Cause I’m oddly sweet?” He replied. Owen laughed.

“That you are.”

“Do you have any ideas of what you wanna get?” Charlie questioned as he held the door open. Owen gave him a small smile, walking through the door as he answered.

“I have a couple of ideas.” He said. “Things that I think would look cool.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Charlie’s eyes lit up with curiosity. Owen shook his head.

“Secret. Want it to be a surprise.” He grinned. Charlie chuckled.

“Fair enough.”

After going through the basics and signing some paperwork, it was time for them to get their tattoos. The tattoo artist led them through to the backroom and for the whole time they were there Charlie and Owen didn’t once let go of each other’s hands.

-

The two boys left the tattoo parlour a few hours later, hand in hand and new tattoos covered in a protective cling film.

“Do you wanna head back?” Charlie questioned, swinging their hands between them. Owen sighed.

“Not really, but we probably should. It’s late.” He answered. Charlie nodded in agreement.

“True. Plus the date doesn’t have to end just because we go back to the hotel... There’s a nice comfy bed and some red wine with our names on it.” He raised an eyebrow and Owen smiled.

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for you.” Charlie grinned, and Owen pulled him close, pulling down their masks so that their lips could meet in a rough kiss.

And if it took them almost an hour to make the 15 minute walk back to the hotel then that was just between them.

-

Charlie unlocked the door to the hotel room and pushed it open, frowning when he spotted Margaux sat on the ground, staring out the window at the city lights.

“Why are you still awake Mags?” He asked as he pulled off his mask, drawing the four year old’s attention to them.

“Missed you.” She said softly, her voice wobbling.

“Oh baby, come here.” Charlie squatted down and the four year old ran into his arms, burying her face in his neck. Owen nodded towards their bedroom and Charlie gave him a small smile to let the younger boy know he understood.

“You were gone but you said you wouldn’t go.” Margaux mumbled.

“You knew I was gonna go out with Papa for a little bit, remember? It’s okay, I’m back, and I promise I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” He tangled his hand through her curls and the four year old hummed in response.

“Okay.” She agreed, her voice no louder than a whisper. Thinking quickly, Charlie decided the best course of action would be distraction.

“Hey, you wanna see Daddy’s new tattoos?” He asked, and Margaux nodded, moving back slightly. Charlie smiled at her.

“First I got this one here.” He lifted his arm to show her the heart tattoo on his ribcage, the plastic mostly obscuring it.

“And I got this one here for my favourite person in the whole entire world.” He finished, showing her the tiny cursive M inked into his wrist.

“An M for Margaux, so I always have you with me.” He said, and she peered at the tiny ink on his wrist, a small smile appearing on her face.

“I like it.” She told him. “Can I have one?” Charlie laughed.

“When you’re all grown up, okay?” He replied, ruffling her hair.

“Okay.” She agreed. They fell silent, and Charlie was just about to suggest that it was time for Margaux to hop into her bed when she spoke up again.

“Daddy?” Her voice sounded small.

“Yeah baby?” Charlie replied.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Margaux questioned, already leaning back into his arms.

“Of course baby. You got Mr Penguin?” He asked.

She held the penguin up and Charlie grinned.

“Great, let’s go.”

He stood up, taking her spare hand to lead her towards the bedroom, pushing the door open to where Owen was sat, already in bed with Netflix loaded on the TV.

“Papa! I’m gonna sleep here with you.” Margaux exclaimed, diving onto the bed as Owen raised an eyebrow, looking towards Charlie with a knowing look.

“Oh really? What about your bed?” He asked.

“She was sad.” Charlie pouted, and Owen just shook his head.

“Come on baby, in you get.” Charlie said, letting the four year old climb into the bed before climbing in after her, grinning when she settled into his arms, her head on his chest.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and once she did, Owen spoke up, his voice soft.

“You know one day you gotta stop letting her climb into bed with you.” He whispered. Charlie made a noise in response, his eyes never once leaving Margaux.

“One day... just not today.” He replied.

“The longer you give in the harder it’s gonna be for you. Cause I know it’s as much you as it is her.” Owen said, and Charlie sighed, his fingers tangled through Margaux’s curls as the four year old slept peacefully in his arms.

“I know.” He started. “I just...”

Owen reached out, linking his hand through one of Charlie’s and giving it a light squeeze.

“It’s stupid.” Charlie mumbled. Owen moved slightly, placing a kiss on the side of Charlie’s head.

“I’m sure it’s not.” He assured the older boy. Charlie was silent for a moment before talking.

“She’s just always been with me and has always needed me to do everything for her, and now she’s getting older and she can do all of these things on her own, and I just get worried that she’s not gonna need me any more, or she’ll decide that she doesn’t want these nights where she asks to sleep with me.” He rambled.

“You’re her dad. She’s always gonna need you Char.” Owen assured him. Charlie hummed in response, and Owen took that as a sign to change the topic, a small smile appearing on his face.

“So I’m guessing no post date make out session or red wine.” He joked, and Charlie sighed.

“Sorry.” He muttered. Owen rolled his eyes, snuggling as close to Charlie as he could get without disturbing Margaux.

“I was joking Char.” He said, and Charlie moved to place a soft kiss on Owen’s lips.

“I had a really good time tonight.” Owen whispered against Charlie’s lips and Charlie smiled.

“Me too.” He agreed.

“Do we have any plans tomorrow?” Owen inquired, and Charlie paused for a moment.

“Not that I know of. Why? Have something in mind?” He moved back slightly so that he could look at Owen’s face.

“I thought maybe the four of us could go play mini golf or something like that?” Owen suggested. Charlie smiled.

“That sounds like a lot of fun.” He answered. They fell into a comfortable silence, both boys closing their eyes, but there was something that Charlie knew he had to say. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Hey Owen?” He whispered. Owen opened his eyes, focusing on Charlie instantly.

“Yeah?” He questioned. Charlie smiled.

“I love you.” He murmured. Owen smiled, rubbing his nose against Charlie’s.

“Love you too Char.” He replied. Charlie shook his head.

“No... I’m in love with you.” He clarified. Owen’s jaw dropped slightly, but he recovered quickly.

“I’m in love with you too.” He returned, and Charlie lent in to kiss him gently.

“It scares me.” Owen whispered once they pulled apart. “How much I love you.”

“Honestly, me too. But we’re in this together. And I love you as much as you love me, so don’t overthink it, okay?” Charlie replied.

“Okay.” Owen agreed.

“We should get some sleep.” Charlie said after a moment and Owen nodded, placing once last kiss to Charlie’s lips.

“Sounds good. I love you.” He whispered, and Charlie could already feel himself drifting off as he whispered a response.

“I love you too Owen.”

#single dad!charlie #single dad!charlie series #single dad!charlie x owen #charlie gillespie #owen patrick joyner #margaux

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feelinlikekpopin · 3 years

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a preview; let me know if you want more in the comments

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warning; light cursing, suggestive, uh yeah

You wre excitedly waiting for the staff to video call you for the fan sign event. you had reserved a spot with boys from ateez and yes your boyfriend was the one and only captain hongjoong! You were snickering to yourself at all the surprises you had prepared for hongjoong including unlimited time with his call that you bribed their manager and company for as they knew of your relationship and supported it thinking you 2 were so cute. ‘ring! Ring!’ You jumped from the sudden noise looking at your computer and screaming before clicking answer on your computer. Suddenly you see seonghwa on your computer screen, “boo!” you yell scaring him a bit but when he realizes its you he was about to say something when you hushed him quickly. “shhhhh hongjoong doesnt know im surprising him so act like you would with any other fan” you wink and smile as seonghwa nods laughing a bit. “sooo what is your name?” he asks in an overexaggerated tone. you have to stifle a laugh before giving a thumbs up. “its y/n hi seonghwa you look handsome today” you add with a smile giggling a little at his stutter. “well you look pretty today thank you” he replied with a smile. You guys started talking about random things when the chime went off and he bid you goodbye telling the next member to hush it down so your surprise doesn't get ruined, Next is Yunho who sweetly smiles and waves at you while you return the same. you both end up talking about his dance in wave kingdom version and the wonderland performance. Soon the timer goes off again and by now seonghwa had informed the members secretly as he could so hong wouldn’t notice. After Yunho is yeosang who gives you another sweet smile and wave and asks you about your days and games you wanna play, just random things before you are shuttled to jongho who does aegyo when you show up which makes you cringe while making you coo at him. He just laughs at your response knowing your feeling towards aegyo in general and happy that he got the reaction that he wanted, giggling a bit. You start asking him if he’s eaten and slept, ect like how you mother him at the dorms to which he nods and shakes his head a bit with a smile. the timer goes off again and you are sent to wooyoung who wiggles his eyebrows giving you a suggestive look. “what wooyoung? why are you looking at me like that?” you ask rolling your eyes at his antics, He laughs his loud ass laugh and responds “so you like hyung huh? why are you all dressed up?” he whispers to which you air smack him. “get yo mind out of the gutter boi, im just surprising him like i used to do at in person fan signs. dont get the wrong idea” you scold shaking your head with a smile to which he smirks and you can tell he doesn't believe you. Then it hits you, did hongjoong tell them what happened under the table at the in person one you had shown up to? “send me to san i don”t wanna know what joongie has told you before nasty” you hide your cheeks in embarrassment as he snickers from your reaction and the timer goes off anyway. You can still hear his snickering as san enters the frame. he gives you his big dimpled smile which causes you to smile and coo at him. He whines and says he’s grown and isn’t a baby to be cooed at to which you chuckle and nod giving him a thumbs up in mock agreement. San huffs and then asks random questions when the chime goes off again causing your heart to flutter because your boyfriend is next and you can’t wait to see his face when he sees you and your new outfit for him.

Suddenly his face appears on screen and you squeal a bit being so excited to which he smiles his beautiful smile. You uncover the camera to reveal your side and his reaction is priceless. He looks like a fish and you can hear the others hootin and hollering, which you roll your eyes at. “hi baby miss me?” you ask cheekily and he smiles shaking his head “yes i did, how did you manage this?” he asks and you smirk “that is for me to know and for you to just enjoy bliss” you quip giggling. You lean in and give your best sultry eyes through the camera “sir can you bring us some where more private? I have something to show sir as a present for doing well on kingdom. “ You snicker to yourself when you see hongjoong visibly gulp and lick his lips. He looks around and gets up, all you see is a bunch of blurr when it finally stills and hongjoong is back in the frame earbuds still in his ears. “did you go the bathroom?” you ask giggling and he nods locking the door and running some water. “w-what did you wanna show me doll?” he asks and you can hear his voice drop an octave lower which makes you clench your thighs and bite your lip. “well when you get home here is what’s waiting for you sir” you stand up and shed your dress to show a pirate maid lingerie you had searched intensely for to fit their performance theme. You had a push up white bra with rips and tares all around your breasts that are also being held up by a corset underneath outlining your waist. Then you have a sord a patch but most importantly your panties were white ripped and had frills of a maid outfit along with hooks hooking onto ripped black stockings. your shoes were pirate books with stiletto heels all black. You look up at your boyfriend biting your lip. He looks you up and down licking his lips groaning at the sight of you in that pirate outfir. “Did you wear that because of wonderland last week? fuck doll how am i suppose to concentrate on the last schedule when i know you look like that?” he husks his eyes growing dark with want and lust as he devours the sight of you. “Well sir I was hoping I could give you a little show to hold off until then” you respond quietly twirling your hair looking up at him with doe eyes. He groans a curse and says to go ahead.

#kpop #ateez #ateez smut #idol #kpop smut #smut #ateez imagines #ateez kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez kim hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut

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icyharrington · 3 years

Note

please make another fanfic i’m horny

omg idk when this ask was sent to me but like damn. this just made me think of how the other night i went through my masterlist and read a bunch of my old fics from like 2-3 yrs ago. which freaks me out to begin with seeing how fast time goes 😭 but yea i was just reading old stuff bc i was feeling nostalgic and depressed and also was curious to see how bad it was. i refused to read some of my older stuff for YEARS bc i remember a lot of them as being straight gutter trash, but i never deleted them bc they had a lot of notes 🤣

one of the fics i read was discipline which i always wrote off as being really bad but tbh it was pretty hot lmao and i thought it wasn't terrible. but while i was reading i also felt super shocked bc of how fucking vulgar my writing was, esp since i haven't written like actual smut in a really long time and i haven't really read it either. but i was legit like 0_0 jfc I POSTED THIS SHIT ON THE INTERNET?! MY FRIENDS KNOW ABOUT THIS BLOG AND I POSTED THIS SHIT?! and then i was like dying of cringe imagining my mom reading my stuff (which tbh is something she would do lmfao)

but at the same time i felt rlly proud and remembered how happy i was when this blog was first getting noticed. it genuinely made me feel so happy and excited and seen and i was sooo inspired and creative which is like the opposite of how i feel now just bc of mental health and life and covid and shit lol. also there hasn't been much material or inspiration for content recently and i don't even talk to anyone part of this fandom anymore so idk what people even wanna read.

omggg and then i got more depressed cuz i also went thru one of my old fic rec lists and realized that like 90% of them no longer existed cuz they deactivated. and it was just bumming me tf out cuz like i spoke to a lot of those ppl on a pretty regular basis and formed friendships w some of them and now i dont even know where tf they are 😭 but damn i wish i had that motivation back like i used to have. the nasty filthy freaky ass smut i used to write made me feel a lot more confident in general and it made me happy having a community of ppl just hyping each other up for being horny 🤣

anyways wtf was the point of that essay LMAOO sorry im a lil stoned and got in my feelings for a sec teehee 🙈

so to answer your question/statement/request,,,,,, hopefully someday in the near future i will regain the inspiration to write like i used to have in 2018-some of 2019. ahhh idk man

in the meantime i guess u can reread some of my old shit.. theres literally so many i GUARANTEE you haven't read them all

#sorry idk what my issue was just now #LMFAO

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 years

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Part 4

Sunday was a day off, but Erik was wired to get up early and jog around the HBCU campus in his sleeveless white tee and Omega sweats on his way to the campus gym. He ain't say shit to his passed out roommate like he typically would about what he'd done.

"You know....," she paused eyes zoned into his. He ain't know what the fuck she was talking about and stared right the fuck back thinking she better mind her business if she meant who was he fuckin.. "Erik," she laughed, "Stop playing.. you know what I'm talking about..."

"Sup Pete," he called to a nigga from his physics class.

"Hey..," Pete grunted tryna squat a barbell and Erik had to pause and watch. He hadn't seen him there before and judging by his build, he was brand new to weights. The more they talked, Erik started to coach him, recommending a starting weight and talking him through reps. He learned that Pete had been turned down by some girl and was tryna make gains, convinced no girl wanted a boney nigga. Erik couldn't dispute that he got way more bitches with a six pack than without.

Instead of disputing, Erik passed down an old routine he'd started when he himself was a beginner watching Pete type it into a note on his phone before starting his own workout. Even more than performing on the yard, he liked working out. The gym was his second home. If being a chemical engineer didn't work out, he'd be a personal trainer.

The issue was when he left the gym, thoughts and issues returned. He still felt a little thrown. He'd stroked a bitch yesterday and left her very visibly confused and disoriented which, honestly... wasn't the big deal. That was a typical Saturday for him. But it wasn't just any girl, it was a delta soror. Engine RED. She seemed upset...

He seemed to be misjudging her a lot and he hoped it ain't fuck with their ability to coexist. He ain't need the drama of her badmouthing him to other women. She knew a lot of fine ones, she had influence.

"I shoulda just rabbit-fucked her," he grumbled on his walk back. "Shoulda broke her shit up and let that be it."

At least she couldn't say he had a little dick or a weak stroke, she just.. wasn't feeling it.

"Hey, boo!"

Erik turned to see a chocolate doll jogging his way. Her first response was to reach up to hug him around his neck, grinning up at him like she'd won a free cruise.

"Luna.." He wrapped his hands around her waist.

"Why you ain't call me? I missed you," she pouted. "Where you been?"

"Around.. Been caught up with studying and practices, you know how shit go."

"Oh. Yeah..," she fake smiled as he stared. "...That's okay. Hey, you wanna tell me something?"

"Tell you what," he asked suddenly defensive.

"I promise you I dont.."

"ERIK," she squealed. "Boy stop I'm serious!"

"Look I gotta go. I'll catch you later."

She was still smiling for no reason when he walked away, it was weird. He wanted no parts and that was what he told his boy Geo when he saw him at the caf. Geo laughed, finding it hilarious.

"Yo chill," Erik muttered drinking his coke. He put his arm out for his boy to stop but Geo was on a roll talking shit about Luna. They had a class together so he knew all about her.

"That's what happens when you fuck them weird girls! Harry Potter ass bitch. Lord of the Rings ass bitch. They get attached and think you their weird lil friend," he whispered, twiddling his fingers before sputtering, making Erik roll his eyes to keep his composure.

"Aye! We like Harry Potter round here," Erik retorted. It was funny but he ain't wanna laugh though Geo already knew he was dying inside.

"Next thing you know..," Geo swallowed tryna collect himself from tearing up. "She whispering shit in latin.. and doing weird shit with her hands," he coughed imitating a girl they'd seen the other day, playing with her own fingers in her own world. Erik spit his drink tryna keep a straight face but failed as he pointed at Geo who was in tears.

"Fuck you, she nice," Erik laughed wiping his mouth on the back of his arm.

In organic chem, Erik's hand moved fast across his paper. He was scheduled to tutor a guy directly after class on what they'd learned all the way up to chemical reactions and then he had to do his often work. It was only after all of that that he had time to think about his current relationship with Brit. Were they friends now? Regular fuckbuddies?

"Oooh, fuck yew, she nice," Geo mocked in a small wimpy voice. "I like Harry Pott-" he couldn't even finish without laughing with his head down and Erik squeezed his shoulder trying not to fall from laughing with him. He was wrong for that. He ain't even like Luna he was just fuckin on her for something to do. Ain't nobody he knew really fuck with Luna like that. She was weird as hell!

"You evil," Erik teased putting it all on Geo as he walked away with tears in his own eyes.

"Stop fuckin Color Purple ass bitches, Erik," Geo yelled still laughing. "You and me must neva paht," he sang doing the hand thing. Erik was done.

It was Monday when he saw Luna again in passing and she looked highly upset, looking away where she'd usually go overboard to make eye contact. When he asked her what was the problem it turned out yesterday had been her birthday which was why she was being so weird. She'd told him multiple times over the past week but he'd been so caught up with Greek shit and the fact that.. he didn't really care.. that he'd forgot. It explained her mood though. "Oh damn my bad shorty.. Happy Birthday," he granted before moving on. He didn't even know how old she was.

Wednesday was when he saw Brit again. He was hanging with his nigga Josh who'd pledged kappa and a few folks from Josh's criminal justice class at the picnic tables. They were cool. That was when the pretty brown skin girl he'd been making eyes at at the table looked off and Erik followed her gaze.

"BRITT-ANYYYY, GIIIRLL," she cheered, dancing in her seat and Erik's eyes widened seeing Brit approach, giggling in cahoots with the girl as she danced up to the table. This was a little awkward. Erik hesitated, thinking of making an excuse to walk away. He could be literally anywhere else so it was no big deal to just leave. Making eye contact, she nodded at him as if there was no bitterness or bad feeling.

"Sup Erik," she smiled and there was no change from how she'd been acting from jump. Had he gotten her wrong again?

"Sup RED," he grinned looking her red delicious ass up and down as she stood with her hand on her hip in a red cut out blouse with white pants. She wore that same signature red lipstick and then he noticed... her hair was in a ponytail today.

"Oh did I mess your hair up," he blurted watching the flash in her eyes as well as the neck whip of Josh who looked very interested. "I know when I'm practicing, I play too much," Erik added making the sexual wording seem like an accident...

"Oh for a minute..," Josh scoffed, smirking as he looked between the two. "Hm.. nevermind."

"Yeah, keep your mind out the gutter," Brit scolded. Erik was thoroughly entertained. He remained on good behavior for the next 20 minutes and then it was time to head to class.

"Hey Erik," Brit called to his back as he was already 8 feet away. He turned back. "We should hang more often."

The meaning wasn't lost on him though no one else thought anything of it. Looked like he hadn't fucked it up afterall.

"Good fuckin wit you," he smirked causing her to smile at their shared secret.

"You two need to use better word choices," one of the guys smirked. That was Erik's cue to go to class before he said some more shit.

Most importantly, he thought he'd fucked things up with her but no. She was cool.. legitimately cool. In fact, he could see them kickin it just because they genuinely got along. It only took 20 minutes of going back and forth at the picnic table to realize they had a similar sense of humor. That was something they shared.. other than having lips of fire.

Speaking of, he wanted those again. When he reached his dorm room. He decided to kick his roommate out and he called Brit.

"Hey. Come to my room, you know where it is?"

"No and I'm not going over there. You can come here, you know where I am," she said hanging up. He stared at the phone like it was possessed. The girl had lost her mind talking like he didn't just make her toes curl last week. She'd been touched by an angel.

He could see he'd have to do some reminding.

"Tuh. No we won't." He had his bag of tricks and none of them were for kids. "You want me to fuck you, fuck you then nah it's finna sound like National Geographic on here."

"Matterfact," he muttered, hastily going through his belongings. He assembled a kit. A 'don't you ever on your life' kit consisting of items specifically chosen to carry out his plan, shoved down in a drawstring bag. He showered briefly before throwing on new briefs with the same outfit and he was out the door headed to her building. He texted when he arrived for her to escort him up.

"Sup," he nodded to her roommate whose name he'd already forgotten. There was another girl in there as well and he wondered why there were so many people.

"You don't mind them hearing you," he asked looking out the bedroom before Brit came and shut the door.

"Nah, they cool. Besides, we'll keep it down," she eyed sternly.

"I want it like last time actually, that shit was good," she smiles.

"What?"

"Like last time... do it like that."

He was twice as confused. Her entire speech last time was about why he shouldn't fuck like that and suddenly she was telling him he should.

"Am I having a stroke...?" She was playing too many games.

"No, but I'm ready for you to stroke me, nice and slow. Do it like last week.."

"But you said-"

"Forget what I said last week, I changed my mind. I'm a woman, it's what we do," she said heading to her bed to take off her clothes. This time he watched as she pulled her blouse over her head. He still helped with the hooks of her bra.

"Did you know you was gone get dick today," he questioned.

"Pfft.. No. Why?"

Her panties matched her bra. That was rare in the women he fucked. He just shook his head. "Nothing.. lay down."

Laying her back with his hand, he had a full view of her like before. He opened his bag up and her eyes started to question immediately.

"What's that," she asked quickly.

"A bag."

"But what's IN it?"

"Your orgasm. Want it?"

"Not like that," she frowned. "Uh uh. I don't know what you reaching for but we got everything we need between us. Just do what you did last time."

Damn, he couldn't experiment?

Thinking about it, he figured it would make sense.. her wanting to experience sex the way she had her first time. Maybe she needed to know if her cumming like that was a fluke. Yeah. It made more and more sense the more he thought of it. He'd humor her... it was only her second time afterall.

"Aight, it's a rematch then," he nodded approaching the bed. He opened the bag again, but this time she didn't comment and he pulled out his condom, setting the bag on her nightstand.

#erik killmonger x oc #black panther killmonger #killmonger #erik killmonger smut #original

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: Hey

Joe: my flatmate has some work I reckon your mate might be interested in

Joe: but it’ll sound a bit dodgy coming from me so you wanna pass it along?

Joe: moneys alright for no real work, depending on how you look at it

Ronnie: never done any work as a secretary myself

Ronnie: write your own fucking love notes

Joe: I see that

Joe: your accent down the 📞?

Joe: no cunt here’d understand you, never mind the demeanour

Joe: yeah, well, it’d really seem that way

Joe: but I actually need someone to take her off my hands

Ronnie: racism as foreplays playing to the wrong crowd hes more into homo bashing

Ronnie: errr dunno how you read his demeanor mckenna but he aint taken a her off anyones hands since before any of us had phones

Joe: i’ll keep that in mind

Joe: well homophobic of me to not tell him myself so he’s welcome for the freebie

Joe: not actual escorting

Joe: she does art, her life drawing class needs a model

Joe: I ain’t fucking doing that

Joe: tell me I ain’t 📖 him right on that one

Ronnie: fucks sake if youd said it was cash for cock wed be done talking already

Joe: I just did

Joe: sound, she’ll be made up, she’ll get off my case, and he’ll get £15 an hour, apparently 👌

Ronnie: sexist not to ask me

Ronnie: pass that on to your little gf

Joe: weren’t her idea to ask Charlie

Joe: you’ll have to take up that grievance with me as well

Joe: I’ll just point out it’d be even weirder if I’d have asked you

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: how much £ you offering me to bang you

Joe: if I did no point paying you to do it for her and her class and not me

Joe: that’s an interesting take on cucking though, loads that would go for it, I’m sure

Ronnie: ill write it down as youve made me go hunting for a pen in this shithole

Joe: cheers

Joe: take 20% commission or whatever

Joe: or take the IOU I owe him for doing this

Ronnie: you said it hed do this for fuck all ill take the lot and mary wont know it was a paid gig

Joe: if he can fend the flatmate off, undoubtedly a load of art gays he can have his pick of

Ronnie: that what youre telling yourself for why you dont want me to do it yeah

Joe: you wanna do it?

Ronnie: i want you to admit the reason you dont want me to is cause he scrubs up enough for horse girl and her course mates not to stage an intervention

Joe: not what it is so no

Joe: I know I don’t want to get my shit out in front of a load of middle class kids who know fuck all about fuck all, so I assumed as much for you

Ronnie: dont ever assume fuck all for or about me

Joe: why do you wanna do it so bad when like you said, you can pocket the cash and get him to?

Ronnie: i dont wanna fucking do it

Joe: well that’s grand ‘cos I reckon Sophie wants to see dick so

Joe: she’d be really let down

Ronnie: usually what gets you off

Ronnie: but im made up youre in love now like

Joe: please, she either don’t get it’s weird to ask me which means she’s some kind of special

Joe: or this is the start of her 50 shades fantasy and I have to be the let down to end all let downs and i’m already doing my best

Ronnie: rem is right to pay for it when she could just walk in on you taking a piss or having a shower

Joe: when you’re just a creep and not a predator 💔

Joe: not the girl my parents warned me about

Ronnie: if theyd be the type to go down the stables theyd have seen the other side of her

Joe: you’ve got your own daydreams, alright

Joe: put out the feelers, who isn’t a little gay these days, right

Ronnie: go ed and pass on ive got a bigger dick than him and she will have

Ronnie: i dont dream 💔

Joe: shame she isn’t equally inspiring for you

Joe: or anyone, really

Ronnie: cry about it with him when youre done pimping

Joe: what do you dream about then, when you’re awake

Ronnie: what you cant read me

Joe: clearly not

Joe: dashed your modelling dreams

Ronnie: blind and not able to read braille must be dead hard for you

Joe: is that sympathy?

Joe: or you offering me 🖐 to 👩🏼‍🦲 time

Ronnie: again you wish

Ronnie: 💭💉

Ronnie: cant make it any easier to understand soz

Joe: maybe I do

Joe: far as 💭s go

Ronnie: fuck maybe you do or you dont

Joe: well it ain’t why I don’t want to get my arms out for her

Joe: not tried it

Joe: but not a no

Ronnie: give a shit what you do or dont want to do for or to her

Joe: that is a no, tah

Ronnie: tell her not me baby

Joe: that’s not a big sister duty?

Joe: gutted

Ronnie: wouldnt know im the middle kid dorothy does that for us

Joe: i’ll ask him when i’m crying on him then

Joe: make a change for me

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: rack up the ious like a fat line hes gonna be made up

Joe: oi he’s like family ain’t he

Ronnie: &

Ronnie: you wanna fuck your mam

Ronnie: not oi ing you

Joe: well you get to think about me and him, you gave me her and you, not fair

Ronnie: life aint soft lad

Ronnie: and stopping at thinking about shit is the difference between me and you

Joe: I get it, you’ve gone there

Joe: purely here for the homophobia

Ronnie: your kinks match 💘

Ronnie: purely there so the lads dont kick off before hes got his kicks

Joe: see, you’ve got it in you 💘

Joe: the sisterly thing

Joe: my hate don’t get expressed by putting me in him though so I won’t run my mouth

Ronnie: not what ive got in me but im not giving you the talk just cause your ma didnt

Joe: you want a virgin to defile reckon Soph and her mates are prime, vampira

Ronnie: set it up with her ill show if i get no better offers

Joe: lucky girl

Joe: no more nights in doing doodles of cute girls that look like you

Ronnie: we dont look alike youll have to accept theyre of you

Joe: i fit less than you, by far

Ronnie: fuck off

Joe: sorry

Joe: it’s weird, say the least

Ronnie: i fit nowhere she made sure i dont

Joe: ditto

Joe: so buzzing i can write shit songs about it though

Ronnie: no

Ronnie: weve got fuck all in common

Joe: just the same mother

Joe: who put her shitty genetics and choices on us both at different times

Ronnie: i ain’t got a mother you cant cross out the un from wanted and act like its the same word

Joe: incubator then

Joe: she was 19 and still fucked, don’t think they had a five-year plan down

Joe: worse if she did, the state of

Ronnie: she made 1 choice for me shes still controlling you

Ronnie: were not the fucking same

Joe: you reckon

Ronnie: if you wanna claim it aint her fault youre this big of a pussy try it

Joe: you don’t think it’s my fault?

Joe: woah, just say you love me

Ronnie: i dont think about you when you aint trying to compare us

Joe: hot

Joe: I’ve thought about you plenty

Joe: uni ain’t that interesting

Ronnie: you came looking for me werent the other way round

Ronnie: you ain’t interesting to me mckenna

Joe: you reckon you’re fascinating, yeah?

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: if your flatmate knows anyone doing doc film making they can wank over me lying in the gutter when youre done

Joe: nah

Joe: you don’t want control of your narrative

Ronnie: i dont want a narrative

Joe: then i’ll be the only wanker

Ronnie: in your dreams

Joe: well you painted such a lovely visual

Ronnie: black screen would get you going can stay in your own fucked head with no interference then like

Joe: Static is my kink

Joe: you know me so well

Ronnie: your fucking kink is not shutting the hell up til i do

Joe: i’m a gentleman

Joe: and i’m taking that review

Ronnie: youll get a lengthy one from my big brother when you are

Joe: you don’t have to settle for hearing it and getting your kicks second-hand

Joe: I’ll have to be somewhere to be unavailable for this life drawing class

Joe: let’s do something

Ronnie: what you paying me to babysit

Joe: you can ask my mammy or you can see what you can get

Ronnie: if i was gonna talk to her it wouldnt be about you

Joe: thank god

Joe: so take the risk

Ronnie: of what

Ronnie: boring me is asking too much of you

Joe: that’s surely a given

Joe: risk anything but

Ronnie: if I need rescuing again ill call you thats the only given Joe: you’re worse than her

Joe: christian grey or superman, like

Joe: gonna be BFFs yous, I can tell

Ronnie: you dont like being compared to cunts youre nothing like either funny that

Joe: touche

Joe: come on, what would convince you

Ronnie: if youre gonna beg then beg and if youre gonna show me something do it

Joe: I know you’d like to hear me beg but I can’t tell what you’d wanna see

Ronnie: then the answers nothing

Joe: nah

Joe: the answers you want to wait or you wanna be disappointed

Ronnie: why the fuck would I want either of those things

Joe: that’s what I’ll give you then

Joe: the opposite of that

Ronnie: thats meant to convince me yeah

Joe: nah, I am

Ronnie: like fuck will you

Joe: see, you want to be disappointed

Ronnie: ill be disappointed want has fuck all to do with it

Joe: if you don’t come and see

Ronnie: come where

Joe: see me

Joe: i’m new in town, I don’t know where to go

Joe: fuck sightseeing

Ronnie: [somewhere she’d hang out]

Ronnie: go there

Joe: now?

Ronnie: whenever you dont know where to go

Joe: okay

Joe: and I’ll see you there when you don’t

Ronnie: when im not fucking either of our flatmates

Joe: when you’re done being disappointed

Ronnie: when you prove yourself as not

Joe: you’ll see

Joe: I can’t show you over the phone

Ronnie: you could

Ronnie: im going nowhere on a bullshit promise cause im not a meff teenager

Joe: and I ain’t young enough to think that’s a good idea either

Joe: pictures not doing no favours

Joe: if you’re there and i’m there

Ronnie: big if

Joe: I never know where to be

Ronnie: newborn i heard you

Joe: something like that

Joe: if you can’t leave soph alone I’ll do my best begging 🥺

Ronnie: she cant leave you alone id be doing you a favour

Joe: true

Joe: wouldn’t wanna be caught doing that though

Ronnie: let you do the clean up after ive killed and ate her id be caught well fast for that instead

Joe: you’d get caught for being three times your size

Joe: she’s a big girl

Joe: you should share, be sworn to secrecy

Ronnie: doing her a favour i shouldve said

Ronnie: fuck all going for her

Joe: way to get in shape

Joe: she’ll appreciate us using her blood for something artsy on the walls

Ronnie: ill ask the basic white bitch i live with to give me a clue

Joe: 🍆 will be appropriate for her

Ronnie: 🐎

Joe: they might reckon she did it with her dying breath

Joe: very artist of her, dying how she lived

Ronnie: hurry the fuck up with your confession song if you want credit

Joe: you wanna hear me confessing so bad

Joe: but I might be able to hand that in so

Joe: hold on

Ronnie: it aint me whos a choir boy

Joe: ugh, I wish

Ronnie: cant chat shit about us having the same fantasies ive been touched by a old bloke wearing a dress and i dont rate it

Ronnie: standard surrounded by homos night out

Joe: yeah, and the nuns are never the hot kind

Joe: if they didn’t self-flagellate they’d be entirely uninteresting

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: yeah, it’s tragic being this bored/boring, say it ‘fore you have to bother

Ronnie: didnt invite you to no pity party and if thats where youre trying to get me to turn up to dont bother is right

Joe: you mean you don’t wanna talk about your feelings?

Joe: like you said, like being left alone with my own fucked up ones too much to try and start a therapy session

Ronnie: what fucking feelings dead above & below the waist like

Joe: dangerously close to sharing there

Joe: you got your 💉 already then?

Ronnie: wouldnt be this chatty if i had

Ronnie: unlucky you

Joe: I’m the one that wants to see you

Joe: so I’ll cope

Ronnie: cant even spell martyrdom proper so youve fucked yourself looking for a pat on the back off me by matching the definition up

Joe: i’ll just ring mum up yeah

Ronnie: your da if not but it wont have the same satisfying end for you like

Joe: 💔

Joe: validations the last thing i need

Joe: had a whole lifetime

Ronnie: you crawling back to me with a boner for the accent your mummys losing is the last thing i need

Ronnie: get on the scouse samaritans

Joe: don’t reckon that’s a job you’ll get any time soon either

Joe: ‘less the purpose is to make sure people go through with it

Ronnie: couldve fooled me if it aint what else is talking a sad cunts ear off about their problems gonna do

Joe: attention seekers anonymous

Ronnie: no need to meet you there i earned all them badges as a kid 🧷🩸

Joe: wouldn’t be caught 💀 obvs

Joe: keeping it secret adds another level of masochism anyway

Ronnie: does it fuck

Ronnie: keeps you feeling like a smug bitch you can still pass

Ronnie: miss me with that pussy shit

Joe: nah, that’s that i’m in control shit

Joe: it’s not that

Joe: the only thing you might be smug about is how oblivious everyone chooses to be

Joe: if it weren’t also depressing as fuck

Ronnie: dont give em the choice

Joe: why?

Ronnie: why the fuck would you want to

Joe: don’t need to be my mother’s next cause celebre

Joe: she can force the therapy and concern on any of the others, I don’t wanna get better or have to fake like I’ll even try

Ronnie: then dont

Ronnie: cut off your umbilical cord and wipe up the blood trail

Ronnie: not like she tries very hard to herd back the black sheep

Joe: maybe they know and don’t give a fuck 🤞

Joe: I know I ain’t going back so whatever

Ronnie: & you reckon weve got anything in common

Joe: just 50% of our DNA

Joe: never said we were twinsies

Ronnie: if youd have said id have spat in your face 1st time we met get it collected and the tests run

Joe: I wish

Joe: has your face healed

Ronnie: wheres the fun in letting it do that

Joe: 😏

Joe: we can pretend that’s inherited if you need

Ronnie: not 5 i dont play pretend

Joe: if you keep digging, reckon the ink will be gone and it’ll be pure scar tissue

Ronnie: calm the fuck down i can hear how turned on you are about it from here

Joe: spoilsport

Joe: just thinking, scar that only vaguely looks like 🍒s might be well more rugged for my transformation from baby to independent real boy

Ronnie: laughing cos i like pain not cause youre funny

Ronnie: when you see or hear it from wherever youre lurking

Joe: you don’t leave room for me to get the wrong idea, you’re alright

Joe: all them fucked ones are mine alone and already there

Ronnie: get your girlfriend to draw you a pin up & dont tell her youve changed the lass horse head to look like your mas

Ronnie: masc for masc in your bio before you know it and 🦋 tramp stamp to follow

Joe: you know my dad already has a tattoo that looks like her, no bullshit

Joe: and another dead girl on the other arm but that’s a whole other boring story

Joe: playing dress up is off the cards too if I’m ever gonna be a big boy

Ronnie: where do you keep his severed arm when youre not using it to fist yourself and how old were you when you cut it off

Ronnie: if we re telling stories

Joe: 😂

Joe: where we keep the horse

Joe: that en-suite is massive

Ronnie: if he finds out it was a paid gig ill know where to crash

Joe: still gutted she don’t wanna see you naked

Ronnie: youre a liar if you dont wanna see her face seeing me

Joe: don’t know if anyone could be bothered to look at her when you’re about but yeah

Joe: the trauma would really fuel me and make her much more bearable to live with

Ronnie: youre welcome like

Joe: gotta stop being nice to me

Joe: you know stalkers, give ‘em an inch

Ronnie: telling me what to do is the fastest way 🖕

Ronnie: and i know you dont have an inch to give me making the best of this shitshow is what an optimist like me has gotta do

Joe: obviously you’re that type

Joe: not having it in common will have you back 👍

Joe: you’re inspiring, like

Ronnie: chop off my arms and legs and get a camera set up in the en-suite

Joe: you’d fit in my cello case then, could take you everywhere

Ronnie: course youve had a measuring tape out

Joe: hate to kill your optimism with 🍆

Joe: have a go at pushing it back in

Ronnie: how longs your tongue reckon that could kill any girls optimism

Joe: 💔 if it was only good for chatting your ear off

Ronnie: [send him a picture of your weird gross split tongue because obviously]

Joe: [how does that not make you lisp, or does it, I always think that]

Joe: that’s why you’ve not had an invite

Joe: 🚫🐍

Ronnie: gutted

Joe: you know you can show up and do whatever you wanna do whenever

Joe: I’ll take you back

Ronnie: this performance art is meant to what just scare her or teach you how to get her to back the fuck off as well as

Ronnie: im not a fucking tour guide mckenna & you can get yourself evicted without my help

Joe: you know I meant to Dublin

Joe: don’t think it’d take much to scare Sophie off, give it a month for us to both get comfortable and she’ll see what I ain’t

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: I said if you want

Ronnie: dont need your permission to do anything i want

Joe: don’t think any of ‘em are that lax with their socials

Joe: you’d need directions

Ronnie: ive had years to find em & we dont both hang about with horse girls from kent

Joe: can’t say it’s your loss

Ronnie: shut up about it then

Joe: 🤐

Ronnie: 🖕

Joe: got a whole fist here, you can keep it

Ronnie: sizeist

Joe: told her yours is massive like you said, it’s fine

Ronnie: i said bigger than his not a horse shes in for a disappointment

Joe: gotta 🤞 she’s an optimist like you babe

Ronnie: unlike you shes gonna wait to see what i do with it before telling me to shove it

Joe: you just wanna blueball me for the pain

Joe: go on, for your lols

Ronnie: she wont want me at all unless youre gonna watch

Joe: and you need a witness so I get time too

Joe: I’ll do it, torturous as it’d be

Ronnie: the iou is gonna torture me too

Joe: if you’re lucky

Ronnie: not the dna half we share 💔

Joe: damnit

Joe: what’s good about being Scouse?

Ronnie: now the beatles are dead youve got fuck all to live for

Ronnie: noted

Joe: only the good ones

Joe: I dunno, anything good about it never happened, left when I was a kid and we still lived in a shithole with shitheads

Ronnie: get in line she left me in a shithole with shitheads 1st

Joe: where were you

Joe: wonder how close it was

Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter

Joe: it makes her more/less shitty depending

Ronnie: it aint gonna change my opinion and I dont give a shit about yours

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: get cosy with charlie hed take you down memory lane

Joe: not before he’s got it out for the art class tah

Ronnie: you didnt say when

Joe: [probably an evening class like tomorrow or the next day, then the same time a week later]

Ronnie: too fucking late the pen is in pieces

Joe: sure it isn’t the first time you’ve left him a note in blood

Ronnie: hes only gonna cry about it & take the shine off his modelling debut

Joe: awh

Joe: message him 🧓🏼

Ronnie: fuck off calling me old

Joe: 😏

Ronnie: ill write him a note blaming what a twat you are for what hes gonna walk in on

Joe: what mess have you made

Ronnie: havent killed myself yet

Joe: and you’ve not stopped talking so no OD’ing

Joe: possibilities are endless still

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: come out

Joe: we can get new ink to dig out

Joe: whatever

Ronnie: you gonna suck his dick this time

Joe: I’ll just pay the old-fashioned way

Ronnie: flashy cunt

Joe: what being a student is all about

Ronnie: and youre too special to poison your blood how the rest of em do

Joe: I’m not opposed but I can do it alone, I don’t need to go to a sweaty student bar that plays shit songs and has a load of sad Soph clones giving it 🥺

Ronnie: you can get another tattoo without me holding your hand

Joe: I could

Ronnie: go do it 🦋 baby

Joe: have mentioned its not about the tat, yeah?

Ronnie: nah not that ive heard

Joe: come on

Joe: i want to see you, i’ve said loads

Ronnie: youve said loads of shit yeah

Joe: shit i mean

Ronnie: why

Joe: why wouldn’t I

Ronnie: thats your answer then fuck it

Joe: you don’t need to ask ‘cos you know

Ronnie: i did ask and you said why the fuck not

Ronnie: like its nothing

Ronnie: like you didnt turn up uninvited into my life not long ago

Joe: then tell me to leave

Joe: like it’s that easy

Ronnie: i didnt tell you to fucking appear

Ronnie: just cause youre a kid dont make me the dead fish you won at the fair

Joe: I never had the choice

Joe: she told me about you, talked about you all the fucking time

Joe: you’ve always been in my life

Ronnie: and youve never been in mine

Ronnie: im not gonna carve out a place for you now cos you want it

Joe: Alright

Joe: do it then

Ronnie: dont tell me what to fucking do

Joe: I’m not going unless you say it

Ronnie: no shit this is fun for you

Joe: like fuck it is

Ronnie: im the car wreck youre craning your neck to keep looking at

Ronnie: thats all the fuck this is

Joe: lie better

Ronnie: you dont care about me or what this feels like

Joe: I can’t take it back, you know now

Ronnie: you dont wanna take it back

Joe: I can’t, what’s the point pretending

Joe: I never said I was a good person

Joe: being sorry won’t change anything for you

Ronnie: its all your christmases & birthdays im west as this course youre gonna keep on spinning me out

Joe: Piss off

Ronnie: lie better cunt

Joe: So you’re allowed pity parties, yeah?

Joe: 👌

Ronnie: calling you out on your bullshit is allowed if youre crying thats your problem

Joe: if all you want from me is for me to go away, consider it done

Joe: you can’t hack it, my apologies

Ronnie: tell me why if im so fucking wrong

Joe: I like you

Joe: I want you, to get to know you

Joe: I can’t just stop it, not for myself

Joe: So make me

Ronnie: stop telling me what to fucking do

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: you ain’t saying anything

Joe: what do you want

Ronnie: I dont want you to like me

Ronnie: fuck is that

Joe: yeah, it’s obvious you go to great lengths to be unlikeable

Joe: not going to tell no one am I

Ronnie: so hate me soft lad

Joe: I’ll give it a go

Ronnie: ill make you

Joe: give it a go then

Ronnie: where are you then

Joe: [give a location of somewhere near your flat ‘cos don’t need to actually set you on the flatmate rn and that’s likely where you were]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re just gonna show up however long that takes us without another word like !?]

Joe: [just so much eye contact ‘cos what you gonna say what you gonna do]

Ronnie: [definitely gonna take him somewhere sketchy as hell to the level that like Charlie doesn’t know we still go there/we’d never take him ever like you wanna get to know me okay bitch buckle up]

Joe: [can’t let you hook up or shoot up yet ‘cos chronological but go along with this obvs]

Ronnie: [it would make sense if you made out/almost hooked up though because the vibe for the next convo was very much oh fuck what are you doing here we didn’t mean to run each other like this but also v flirty]

Joe: [agreed, and allowed, it’s the obvious vibe but any untold drama can happen to stop you in whatever dodgy place so makes sense]

Ronnie: [literally and just because you can’t shoot up together yet does not mean either of you have to be in any way sober so]

Joe: [hundo, we’re not saying he’s never done a drug lol, he clearly abuses his prescription as is so like, there’s plenty to be done without going there]

Ronnie: [and if we wanted to we could say that you watch her do it here and now before you do it together anyway because you’d both get a weird kick out of that]

Joe: [tea, bet you did not see this coming for your uni experience lmao]

Ronnie: [meanwhile she’s old enough to have left, do you wanna grow up babe? No? okay]

Joe: [the way you’re rolling with this, we know you’re fucked boy but pop off]

Ronnie: [I can’t overstate how much she’d be doing the absolute most to try and scare him away like I dare you to go back on what you said]

Joe: [we know you’re not gonna, soz babe, is very rude how he’s just waltzed in but truly did not say we were a good person lol]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not either and also is here for it more than she will ever express until we’re literally years into this]

Joe: [hi your mother’s daughter, but no, you actually have a reason this is messed up but we’re into it from the off and not pretending, risky af strategy boy]

Ronnie: [is there anything we wanna say happens that has lasting-ish consequences other than the make out/ almost hook up ie a tattoo or a fight with injury potential or an arrest lol]

Joe: [hmm, the possibilities, maybe a fight to show you can, could be about anything, it’s that sort of place]

Ronnie: [that is such a mood I love it and yeah could literally be you’re a new face or could be her fault because of the aforementioned doing the most]

Joe: [totally, and that’ll be an easy way to separate you and not meet until the next convo]

Ronnie: [exactly dr phil]

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strangergrove · 4 years

Note

I tried sending an ask yesterday but tumblr was tripping on me, so I dont know if I'm double sending this ask, if i am I'm so sorry! but for the harringrove prompt #28 and #2 kill me with the angst??!?

I did receive the first one, but no worries! I'd rather receive it twice than not at all. For some reason I kept reworking this one, so I hope it's not total shit.

2) "You're the worst person I've ever met."

28) "Okay, just because I said I loved you one time does not mean we're a thing."

PROMPT LIST

Loud music and drunken laughter spilled out onto the lawn. The house was crammed with bodies and booze and bad choices. Down the hall, a door opened and someone slowly slipped out, wearing a wild grin on his handsome face.

Billy was leaning back against the bathroom counter, head resting on the wall, shirt open, pants still undone. He was a little drunk and a little pissed off from last night, but his body felt good and it was slowly spreading to his brain. And he finally started thinking maybe he was wrong and tonight wouldn't be so bad.

Until Steve stumbled into the bathroom, drink in hand. He smiled when he saw Billy, but then his eyes fell to the unzipped pants, to Billy slowly going soft, and his smile shattered.

"The fuck?" he slurred. He scowled at the other boy, face distorting with disgust and disappointment and hurt.

Billy rubbed at his eyes before zipping himself back up. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like… What? Like you were just cheating on me? Who was it? Billy. Who were you just fucking? The guy I passed in the hall?"

Billy sighed and pushed past Steve into the hallway. "I can't cheat on you if we're not dating, Steve. We talked about this."

Steve laughed, a gutteral, hollow sound. "Not dating? Seriously? Last night-"

"Last night was a fucking mistake!" Billy snapped.

It had somehow simultaneously been the best and worst night of Billy's life. He'd been completely blissed out with Steve laying on his chest, staring into those stupid doe eyes, and he'd said the dumbest fucking thing he could imagine. He ruined everything. Lit their whole fucking relationship on fire. Lit himself on fire. And now they could never go back to what they had before.

It had been simple, clean, with no attachment, no disappointment. But then Billy had gone and fallen for the stupid brunette and was too damn selfish and scared to break things off before Steve started feeling the same way. But last night… Billy knew. He could see it in the way Steve had looked at him, hear it in his voice, feel it resonating in his touch.

But things are never supposed to be like this. Steve was supposed to get sick of Billy, sick of his fucking attitude, sick of him sleeping around, and leave. Then Steve would find someone who actually deserved him, not a walking trash fire. Then Steve would be happy.

"But… Billy, we-"

"Okay, just because I said I loved you one time does not mean we're a thing. It was a mistake."

Steve stared at him like Billy had just punched him in the face. And he might as well have. Should have. It would have hurt less.

"But I love you, too," he whispered.

Billy sighed and closed his eyes. He was about to dump a barrel of gasoline on this dumpster fire and there was no going back. It had to be a clean break, or Steve wouldn't move on. He was too stubborn.

"I didn't mean it," Billy sighed. Except he had. But Steve deserved better, and Billy didn't. Billy didn't deserve anything.

"Don't say that. Don't you dare fucking say that." Steve's lip was trembling. His voice was trembling. His entire goddamn body was trembling, and all Billy wanted to do was hold him and apologize. But it would never work. He was too fucked up, too much of an asshole, and Steve was too sweet, too soft.

"Jesus, Steve," Billy said, moving down the hall. "You really think I'd settle for a has-been who's half decent in bed when I can have whoever the fuck I want? Get over yourself." He couldn't look at Steve. There were tears clinging to his lashes and his eyes were burning a brilliant blue. "If you still wanna fuck, you know where to find me." But he knew Steve wouldn't.

"You're really ending it like this?" Billy could hear the heartbreak in Steve's voice, could feel the world splintering around him.

Billy took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Ending what? We never had anything."

Steve let out a weak laugh. "You're the worst person I've ever met. Fucking asshole."

#Harringrove #harringrove fanfic #Billy hargrove #Steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #Stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Angst #harringrove prompts #ask and you shall receive #my ficlets #prompt fill

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duchessanon · 3 years

Note

What's your take on this madness? Not the interview per say but the whole shebang.

Hi bb. U mean the whole Megri thing overall?

I think the press were in the wrong with how they cover(ed) meg. And it’s honestly pretty disturbing to see Piers/Danny W and others foaming at the mouth every time she breathes. (And I think racism is involved for sure).

With the fam, idk. I think they did wrong for sure (otherwise Megri wouldn’t have been indirecting them). But the main thing I wanna know from the interview is what the fam actually did/didn’t do. To me it’s never been clear with Henri about who he’s mad at. Is it the suits or is it the fam? (Or Angela Kelly). Bc one minute he’s saying shit about “the other side” and the next he’s like “yeah we talk to liz n Phil & she sent Archie a waffle maker”. Idk if “the other side” was racist. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were and if meg says that I believe it. Idk though bc they’ve never said it and idk if they will.

I want to know what happened with him n Willy. I’ve seen some people say it so confidently that it’s all willys fault and he’s the leak blah blah and again the same thing that Henris the asshole. (They need to post on the “am I the asshole” reddit!). I’m inclined to believe it’s both of them bc imo they’re both kinda assholes. In my imagination, Henri is Whiny Asshole and Willy is Angry Asshole.

I get good vibes from k8 and Meg (by good vibes, I mean I don’t think they’re assholes). They’re both products of their environments. K8 to suck it up (get ur mind out of the gutter!) and Meg’s to speak up. Both are valid ways to deal with shit.

I dont have a special love for the royals and I don’t give a fuck if they “disrespect the queen” by doing interviews. Just like the fam, Megri have likely done things wrong too. But again the indirecting via the press means idk what they actually did. I don’t get upset/insulted by their statements etc bc I’m not emotionally invested into the reputation of the rf. It does come across petty though, and that’s bc they haven’t told the whole story.

My strongest feelings are towards Henri who I think is a cornball with bad fashion sense. (Seriously can he stop with those light suits?!). Meg can get away with the advice stuff bc it suits her.

But do I wanna hear it from him? No thanks Henristotle.

(And if anyone wants to say I only have that opinion of henri bc I rly h8 meg, read my award nominated fan fiction “for the love of Henri” from 2014 onwards).

TDLR I think it’s entertaining and occasionally annoying and I’ll be mad if I watch that whole interview and learn nothing new about their rel with the fam.

#btw I know nothings off limits but I think Andy could be #bc they get on well with eugbea

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imagineurfavs · 5 years

Text

EXO - Suho A-Z

“Hi 😊 I just found your blog by Xiumin A-Z and I love it 😍. Could you please do A-Z of Suho?”

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A - Aftercare

To him this counts as a workout, so he treats this how he’d treat any post work out cool down. He’ll have towels ready and a drink for you both bc taking care of the body should extend to all areas of life.

B - Body Part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner)

On you he likes your hands, and although its not really a physical attribute, on himself he likes his strength

C - Cum

If for whatever reason he can’t cum inside of you his next favourite place would be your stomach. He’s quite...unpredictable when he cums though so don’t be surprised if it ends up somewhere else.

D - Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He really wants to try some kind of role play, CEO & his assistant or teacher & student are on the top of his list. Rather than his usual dominant but still equal vibe, he really wants to experience a being fully in charge. Highkey loves the idea of enforcing rules and making you behave, but just without the punishment side of things.

E - Experience

I dont really see him as a hook up/ one night stand type of guy, so its a tough one. A handful of partners, but only people that he’s actually dated. So a fair amount of like, doing the do, but not much trying new things with new people

F - Favourite Position

A classic missionary type of guy, he just likes being able to hold your hands and look in your eyes. Another favourite of his is to be sat up and have you in his lap, that way he can hug you and fuck you at the same time, win win. (apparently this is called the lotus lol i had to google it)

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous etc)

Tends to keep things on the more serious side, but still super romantic nonetheless. He’d be super giggly and smiley afterwards though.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they)

I dont really see him doing a lot of manscaping tbh, if any at all. He might trim every now and then to keep things tidy, but I dont think he does that too often.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Super romantic, he likes to feel like he’s in a movie so expect the whole nine yards tbh, candles, champagne, soft music in the background etc etc. He knows its a worn out cliche, but he still enjoys it.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation)

I picture him as the type to do it as a way to de-stress. Probably has a ritual of rubbing one out just after he's finished a concert as a way to let out all his endorphins and excess energy.

K - Kinks (one of more of their kinks)

for the most part i feel like Junmyeon is pretty vanilla fr where tf did the daddy suho thing even come from The most I think he’d enjoy is maybe letting you tie up his wrists so he can’t touch you or vice versa.

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Never really outside of the bedroom, its just where he feels the most comfortable. Might extend to the bathtub if he’s feeling super romantic and wants to break out the champagne and candles.

M - Motivation (What turns them on)

A sucker for a mix of being classy, but thotty as the same time. For example, say you go out for dinner with him to a fancy restaurant in a ridiculously expensive gorgeous dress, but whisper to him that your not wearing anything underneath; his mind will remain firmly in the gutter for the entire evening.

N - NO (something they won’t do, turn offs)

It’s a tiny thing to be bothered about really, but he really hates not being able to see your face during sex, he wants to be able to look in your eyes and kiss you as much as he wants. Not super into dirty talk either, he just thinks its a little vulgar and he’d rather keep things classy and romantic.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Kinda timid when it comes to using his mouth on you, he works slow and methodical. Every move he makes is very deliberate, very slow long licks and cold breaths on your core. When receiving, he can get a little fidgety; he wont be able to keep his hands still, or control what he says. Expect a non stop mix of curses, compliments and whispers of your name.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

A little rough, but not really that fast. He keeps his thrusts at a medium pace, but strong.

Q - Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Not a fan. If you suggest one however, or tell him how needy you are for him, of course he’ll comply. But when left down to him, he’d rather just wait.

R - Risk (are they down to experiment, do they take risks?)

If you explicitly explain to him what exactly it is you wanna try, he might be open to trying something. He’s just super vanilla, as long as youre both getting off, he doesn't really feel the need to try anything new.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go, how long do they last? etc)

Can last as long as you need him to, he’ll deliberately hold himself back until he knows you’re close too. He has a big thing about finishing together, it’s just so intimate to him. Depending how long the rounds are, he usually only goes for one or two.

T - Toy (do they own toys do they use them on a partner or on themselves?)

The only toys he utilises are some restraints, but as opposed to buying any, he likes to use his own neckties or belts on your wrists. Much prefers using them on you, but although he doesn't like to admit it, he enjoys being restrained just as much.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's tried to do the whole teasing thing numerous times before and it never really went to plan, he'd end up cracking before you and just giving up. He does like being teased though, but only if he can promptly regain control.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what type of sounds they make)

Tries to keep his composure, but he can get super loud. Not really any moaning though, more so just your name over and over with some swearing thrown in.

W - Wild Card (a random headcannon)

The only way he’s been able to master so many of EXO’s raunchier choreos is by picturing you as he’s learning them, it’s the only way his hips will move like that. You can always be assured he’ll send you a needy text in the middle of the night once he’s done practising, convincing you to rush over to his place to “help him out”. He spent way longer practising Artificial Love alone, replacing that cane with you, than he cares to admit tbh

X - X-ray (what’s going on inside those pants)

A little longer than average, thick too (if his hands are anything to go by lol wow have you SEEN his fingers)

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

Easily turned on but he only lets his body take over if he knows it’s an appropriate time. Even if he’s envisioning the dirtiest stuff, he wont let it show or act on it unless it’s only the two of you alone somewhere.

Z - Zzz… (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Probably doesn’t sleep for a while afterwards tbh. He’d be perfectly happy staying up with you just talking and doing nothing for ages afterwards, would only sleep if you did too.

#exo #exo smut #exo suho #exo reactions #exo imagines #exo scenario #suho #junmyeon #kim junmyeon #suho smut #suho scenario #suho imagine #suho reaction #junmyeon smut #junmyeon imagine #junmyeon scenario

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sightlessdarkcorner7 · 5 years

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50 Couples On The Creepiest Sleep Talking/Said In The Dark of Night

After reading these sleep talker stories from (Ask Reddit) you are going to have trouble falling asleep with your partner.

My husband is OUT OF CONTROL with his sleep talking. You almost can’t call it sleep talking, because you would swear this MFer knows EXACTLY what he’s doing. It isn’t just talking. He gets up out of bed, will literally be walking around the house doing things like he’s totally aware. Could hold a full conversation with you. It takes a minute to realize whether he’s awake or not, he’s so sure of himself. So probably the scariest thing was one night we’re knocked out, it has to be like 3 am, and his big ass BOLTS out of bed like I’ve never seen in my life, waking me up and frantically yelling, “WE HAVE TO GO NOW! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE! FOLLOW ME! HURRY UP!” I literally go into full panic mode and start trying to grab things and get my dogs, all while trying to ask him WTF is going on, but he’s SO serious about this that I just trust that there must be something bad happening. Within a minute or so I noticed that as frantic as he was walking around, he wasn’t really DOING anything, just kind of going in circles. At that point it clicked that he wasn’t really awake [I had been woken up from a dead sleep too obviously] so I started saying his name over and over and telling him it was okay, and he kind of just snapped out of it and was like oh, sorry about that…

I was told by my SO that I said, “Give her a lobotomy, right through the temple.”

SO: Shhh be quiet. She’ll hear us. I ask who. SO Response: The woman who lives here. Shhhh she’s in the hallway.

Sat up at a 90 degree angle and said, “Violence causes and solves all problems.” Laid back down and said nothing else.

Woke up to go to the bathroom one night. As I move to get up my boyfriend goes, “Don’t go out there…” Thinking he’s awake and joking with me I go, “Oh yeah, why?” He sits upright eyes wide open and goes, “SHE’S out there.” I held it for the rest of the night.

Woke up the whole house shouting, “Where is the head?! Where is the head?!”

He did that sit straight up in bed thing that I thought only happened in movies then shouted, “They’re coming for my skinnnn.”

I talk in my sleep, and my girlfriend told me this story after we woke up. I had evidently, turned toward her, shook her with my face, and yelled “They took my god damn arms Johnny!” before slumping back over and going back to sleep.

Not my SO but one of my friends’ mother used to talk in her sleep frequently. Apparently she was petting her boyfriend’s hair and telling him all the ways that she could kill him and make it look like an accident. Told her about it in the morning and she just laughs and said they weren’t bad ideas.

My wife has the occasional night terrors. One night she woke up screaming thinking something was in the corner of our room. Really freaked me out cause I woke up to her trying to escape through the wall while pulling her lamp from the socket and throwing everything off of her nightstand. My dog and I just looked at her super confused. Dog noped out of the bedroom and slept in the guest room that night.

My boyfriend has PTSD from his time in the Marines and what they did overseas. The other night, I had my arm around his waist and he patted my hand and said, “You’re never going to make it out of here. You’re just another casualty about to happen. You’re going to die and luckily we’re married because you have life insurance.” .... we are not married.

“I wanna tear all your skin off your body… then maybe you’ll be quiet.”

My stepfather in his sleep:”I’ll will kill you, you bastard.” It was in the beginning of their relationship, my mum was a little bit scared.

A few months ago my husband was mumbling in his sleep, I asked what was up, he replied very clearly and loudly, “A CORRIDOR OF SEVERED HEADS.” I slept with the light on.

The first time we ever slept together I woke up to him looking at me. “Hand me my spear. I will kill you now,” he said. Then he closed his eyes and laid back down. I thought about it for like 5 minutes, decided I could take him, then went back to sleep myself. We dated for 6 years.

He sat up, pointed to the darkest corner of the room, and said, “There’s someone there!” I frantically said, “What do you mean?” And he insisted “There! There’s someone standing right there!” He then proceeded to lay down and go back to sleep as I used my phone light to check the dark corner. There was no one there.

He’s still watching us. He has no eyes.” Well, so much for sleeping tonight.

“They’re out there.” He says, eyes closed. “Who?” I asked. He shrugs, and uses both hands to gesture to the dark window. “Them.” We’ve had people in our yard before, so I had to look!

I wake up to hear him mumbling indistinct words, followed by “sudden infant death syndrome.” I was 7 months pregnant at the time.

My husband, almost every night, yells out “help…help…HELP” in his sleep. If I wake him when he does it, he’s hysterical until I can calm him down. It’s crazy.

“Don’t move or they’ll get you.” He says he doesn’t even remember having dreams that night.

Soon after having a child, my wife sat upright in bed in the middle of the night, shouted: “My baby! What has she done?!” and lay back down.

“Don’t worry about the lady in the corner.”

When we first got together, my (soon-to-be-ex)SO would scream at his ex wife in his sleep, saying things like “shut the fuck up you stupid bitch, I should kill you”. Now he screams those things at me in his sleep.

This wasn’t an SO but a guy I had a fling with. He abruptly began speaking gutteral gibberish in his sleep, then in his guttural voice shouted “I SAW HIM,” then continued the gibberish. Think straight-up horror movie demon voice. I think the devil took over his body for a moment.

My ex used to grind her teeth, talk and move a lot while sleeping. One night she was making this weird noise with her throat and me, being a light sleeper, woke up and decided I was going to get up and go to the bathroom when she suddenly snapped her neck and turned her face towards me and said real quick “the witch has arrived” and then turned her face away just as fast and stopped moving. I spent the whole night lying down wide awake trying not to piss myself.

My husband frequently sees things in our room in his sleep that are not there. Giant spiders on the wall, snakes, squirrels. He’ll wake up and tell me to get out of bed so he can find whatever it is he “saw”. One time he jumped out of bed and looked under the bed for snakes. My favorite was when he pointed to the corner of our bedroom and said there was a giant spider. He then proceeded to run out of the bedroom yelling, “I’m out this bitch, I’m out this bitch”. He doesn’t even talk like that normally. He’s also punched me in the back multiple times in a row because he was dreaming of fighting someone.

“We’re not alone,” at 3 am while camping in the 100 Mile Wilderness.

My SO has laughed in his sleep. Doesn’t seem creepy, but when you’re sleeping in dark and quiet room, and wake up to someone chuckling, then creepy is an understatement.

One night he repeatedly screamed “GET THEM OFF ME!” while biting his own arms. Alarming to say the least.

I’m not sure what’s more terrifying than your SO sitting upright and saying, “they’re here” only to collapse back into their deep slumber.

Screaming, “I am going to kill you Motherfucker!”

My SO used to (not as much over the years) speak German in his sleep. So, since I understand very little german, I’d catch a few words here and there and ask in the morning… It usually was something like “run”, “kill” ect. He had the strangest dreams/ nightmares.

I am the talker, my BF is weirded out by it in general… one night I sat up and creepily whispered “Help Me.”

He kissed my forehead and then said, in a really creepy sing-songy voice, “They’re coooooming, the terrorists are coooming! Dont worry though, they wont bang you.”

Violently shakes me awake “Don’t move. DO NOT MOVE.” Whispers: “We are covered in bees. Stay very still.” Turns over and falls sleeps.

My brother and I shared a room growing up. I would always wake him up with my sleep talking so he convinced my Dad to record me in my sleep. I said one very clear and loud sentence that night. “Go until you die.” No clue what I was dreaming about.

My ex once asked Her: “Do you see them?” Me : “Who?” Her: “The children.” That was a big nope!

Not words, but a laugh. My husband has, on more than one occasion, laughed in his sleep. But it’s not a normal laugh… It’s either a lot deeper and slower (almost insidious), or it’s a higher pitch (sometimes up and down rapidly with the pitch) and kind of staccato. Neither laugh sounds like him when he’s awake. It’s unsettling, but fortunately, it doesn’t happen too often.

I had an ex girlfriend who’s first language was Welsh. When she spoke in her sleep, bitch sounded like she was speaking in tongues.

Not 100% a talking in her sleep story but… When my SO is stressed she has dreams about spiders crawling everywhere. One night I was reading and she was asleep, she suddenly sat up and just stared at me. I asked her what’s up?

My wife doesn’t talk in her sleep, but I did wake up once to her sitting up, leaning over me and staring at me Paranormal Activity style. It was terrifying, and she has no recollection of it.

My fiancé is Chinese and didn’t have the best upbringing there. It is common for her to yell in a distressed tone in her sleep random Chinese phrases.

“We need to decapitate them and take them back to the lab.”

My SO informed me one morning that he had woken up in the middle of the night with my face inches from his, my finger in his ear and I was apparently whispering, “I just need to get in, let me in!”

“Are you texting demons?” Oddly high pitched laugh. “You’re friends with demons!”

My SO said she was going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. On her way back, I said, “It’s following you” and went back to sleep.

I’m the sleep talker but the best I’ve ever been told about was, “NO!! None of them have heads!”

“PUT IT AWAY. NOW.” (This was only our fourth night sleeping together and I didn’t even have anything out…)

Initially he just mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I turned around to face him and asked him what he had said. He responded in his sleep “don’t worry about it” and then laughed in this villainous way that I’ve never heard him use while awake. It honestly creeped me out.

#paranormal #sleep talking #ghost stories #supernatural #creepy #scary #ask reddit #night #sleep

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hismissharley13 · 5 years

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Fallout

The morning after the night before.

I had woken early, nestled in Tig’s arms. One of his hands was cradling my head, the other I was half using as a pillow, half draped down my back. I jumped in panic before the events flooded back. My face burned with shame as I realised what I’d done was no better than Jax. My stirring had disturbed Tig, his arms drawing me close to him as he nuzzled into me, breathing in deeply as he did so. His lips found mine and I couldn’t help but reciprocate. To hell with Jackson Teller. Tig’s morning wood pressed into my hip as his mouth explored my jaw and neck. I hummed as he licked a wet stripe up my neck, re-igniting the fire in my belly and pushing all thoughts but one from my mind.

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I’d gotten showered and accepted one of Tig’s t-shirts gratefully, knotting the long hem at my waist and slipping my skirt and panties back on. I had spare clothes in Jax’s room but was I hell going in there. Tig had crashed out on the bed again after our morning tryst and I needed coffee.

Jax shuffled into the kitchen a short while after me, rubbing sleep from his eyes, “Hey princess”

“Hmm?” I grunted, non-committal.

“Who’s shirt are you wearing,” he demanded, suddenly more awake.

“What’s it to you?” I refused to turn around and look at him. He made me sick.

“What’s it to me? You’re my Old Lady, and here you are in someone else’s clothes?”

I let out a hollow laugh, Old Lady indeed. Sure didn’t mean that much to him when he was screwing that skank. He grabbed my arm and spun me to face him, the coffee cup in my hand flying to the floor,

“Well, shit,”

“You haven’t answered my question,”

“So what, Jax? I’m not going to either. You know, I don’t think I ever hated anyone before I met you,“

“Where the fuck were you all damn night?”

“Why do you even care?”

“Goddamnit Kat! Tell me!” He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Goddamnit Jax! Go to Hell!” I mocked his voice. Childish maybe, but he gave up and stalked back to his room.

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I flew back to Tig’s room on tiptoe, swift and silent so as to not be noticed. Tig was sat up, hair sticking out at all angles and the sheets pooled at his waist “Morning doll,” he mumbled sleepily, running a hand through his wild curls

“Hey Tiggy,” I rasped, the crying had left my throat pretty damn raw. I wriggled out of his arms and scrambled for my clothes. Tig looked up, curious to see what I was doing,

“You ok cupcake? Kat...Kat!” the forceful tone made me bot upright, dashing the wet tracks from my cheeks. Tig sat up fully and tugged me back onto the bed. I wilted into his waiting arms, folding my own consciously over my body. I felt the heat radiating from his chest as he placed his arms over mine, “C’mon sweetheart, talk to me,”

“I-uh...shit, Tig, what the hell did we do last night? What was I playing at-I’m sorry,” I dropped my head into my hands, despairing at my crappy judgement.

“Hey, you were upset, pissed off, hurting. The last thing you need to do is apologise baby. If you wanna forget about it, it’s your call. I ain’t gonna think any less of you for it,”

“I’m not just some sweetbutt, moving on from one reaper to another like it’s nothing,” I glanced up at him, terrified of what was going to happen now. Tig’s lip curled,

“Baby, you’re the furthest thing from a crow-eater!” he assured me, a hint of amusement on his face as he tipped my head towards him with a gentle hand, “I’ve never hit twice on the run with a crow,” sincerity evident in his gaze.

A small giggle bubbled up in my chest at his confession. The slight smile on his lips widened into a toothy grin,

“That’s a great sound,” he twisted a damp strand of my hair between his finger and thumb, tucking it behind my ear, “granted, not as good as hearing your moans last night and this morning,” I gasped and smacked my hand against his chest. Tig just wiggled an eyebrow at me as I laughed again.

---

Jax cornered me in the office later that afternoon,

“Hows about you gimme some answers Kat?”

“Hows about I keep who I’m screwing to myself just like you did?”

“You’re being ridiculous“

”Yeah, well, Tig didn’t seem to think so...” Silence fell, my eyes widened as I realised what I’d just done. Jax straightened up and ran his tongue over his teeth, nodding slightly to himself as he started to turn for the door.

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“Jax I-” my outstretched hand fell as his pale blue eyes burned a hole straight through me. He spun on his heel and slammed the door behind him with enough force that the window rattled in it’s frame. I dashed over to the window overlooking the garage where Tig was working on his Dyna, my stomach twisting horribly. I couldn’t hear Jax’s low words at first, their discussion increased in volume by the time I had pulled the door open.

“Seriously brother? My own Old Lady! I can’t believe you betrayed me like that,”

“I betrayed YOU? I’m not the one who was too busy riding some 2 dollar hooker before coming to see his own fuckin’ girl, Jackson! C’mon! What was I supposed to do huh? Leave her cryin’ in the damn gutter?”

“You were supposed to stay the fuck outta my business!” Jax roared and swung a fist towards Tig’s head. I cried out, hoping Tig would dodge but he didn’t. He stood there and let Jax hit him, holding a hand up before he could take another swing,

“That one you get for free, Jax. You’re my VP, my brother and I love you, but what you did last night? That was wrong and you know it,”

“Did you fuck her?” he spat,

“Excuse me?” Tig’s eyebrows shot up,

“I asked you if you screwed my Old Lady,”

Tig’s mouth curled into a sneer, he stepped towards Jax until they were nose to nose and cocked his head to the side,

“Why, scared she’d like me better?” Jax twitched almost imperceptibly and I took my cue. I threw myself at them both, shoving with all my might to separate them. I think it was more suprise than anything else that moved them back. Insering myself between them both, I held my arms out to distance the pair,

“Stop it, just fucking stop it now,” I shrieked, their eyes locked like dogs in a ring. Jax made to swipe me aside, Tig practically growled and tried to pull me behind him. I screeched in frustration, grabbing fistfuls of Tig’s work shirt and Jax’s cut.

“I swear to God I am not a fucking toy for you both to fight over!” My eyes were wild as I whipped my gaze from one man to another. I felt Jax wrench from my grip as he was pulled away by Opie. My knees turned to jelly as the adrenaline coursing through me subsided. Tig dropped next to me and embraced my trembling form,

“Kat, I’m sorry baby, I got you,” he kissed the top of my head softly,

“Tiggy, what the fuck is goin’ on eh?” Chibs crouched down next to our bundle on the floor. Tig rose to his feet and dragged me up to mine. I nodded that I was in control again and ducked my head, walking back to the office. Last thing I wanted was a reminder of my own infidelity, never mind Jax’s.

“So Kat stayed with me last night after walking in on Jax and Ima,”

“Ah shite, ye’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,”

“Yeah, I wish, brother,”

The door clicked shut behind me and I rested my head back against it. I needed a damn drink. I exited the office through the other door and headed over to the club house. Bobby was at the bar going over some paperwork. He looked up at me with a smile,

“Bobby, if anyone asks, you aint seen me or this bottle of ‘quila.” I told him, dragging the bottle from the shelf and walking over to the corridor. Iuncorked the bottle with my teeth and spat it on the floor. I stared and pointed at JT’s bike accusingly,

“Have a fucking word with your son, JT. He’s a damn asshole,”

I climbed the ladder to the roof and tucked myself away in a corner to drown my sorrows. About halfway down the bottle the world was getting fuzzy round the edges. A couple more slugs and my eyes closed.

***

I was shaken roughly, roused rudely from my slumber. As I opened one eye (two was way too painful), a sharp sting burned my cheek. I gasped, noting somewhere in the back of my still fuzzy mind that the sky was dark

“Kat! Kat! Thank fuck, I’ve been searching all over for you,” relief flooded Jax’s voice. Jax...I didn’t like Jax...why didn’t I li-ohhhhh, of course!

“You, you bastard! You dont like me,” I slurred, “No, no tha’s not right, I, me, I don’t like you. You’re a shit, a cheating piece of shit,”

“Kat, are you...fuck’s sake, how much did you drink?”

“Not enough,” I swayed dangerously and he grabbed hold of my arms, “Ic’n still ‘member what happened,” I swallowed thickly, “but s��ok, cus, cus I-ah shit, Jax, I slept with Tig,” I wailed, “I’m so sorry Jax, I never wanted-I cheated on you,” I sobbed into his chest,

“Shhh, shhh, it’s ok, I know, it’s alright,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing, “Baby I’m never letting you go again. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done,”

“Jax, I don’t feel so great,”

“Can you climb down you think?”

I shook my head, my mouth watering profusely in the unmistakeable warning of impending vomit. Jax pulled my hair up out of the way and leaned me over the wall of the roof as I hurled. Once my belly was empty, I gingerly straightened up. Truth be told, I felt a little better for it. I hugged myself against the chill I felt, looking up at Jax sheepishly. He smiled kindly at me and motioned back with his head,

“C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up, hey?”

I nodded and allowed him to steer me back down into the club and straight to his room. I noticed the bed had been changed. Jax herded me into the shower and stood me in the enclosure, clothes and all. He started the water and handed me a toothbrush loaded with toothpaste and a meaningful look. I accepted and started to clean my teeth. Jax busied himself with undressing me, pulling my boots off and tossing them across the bathroom and peeling my skirt down my legs. I steadied myself as I stepped out of it with a hand on his broad shoulder,

“Your clothes are getting wet,” I observed, having rinsed my mouth and thrown the toothbrush haphazardly at the sink. By some fluke it had landed in the intended target.

“So are yours,” he pointed out. Smart ass. He pulled the hem of the shirt up and I lifted my arms to help. Jax stood me directly under the stream of water and grabbed the shampoo, massaging my scalp as he washed my hair. At some point he had dispensed with his clothes. I was too busy enjoying the warm water on my skin to notice, until he turned me gently around to face him. He breathed a deep sigh as he ran his hands up and down my arms. I looked up into his eyes and saw the remorse eating at him. We both had blame to carry. I uttered his name, barely a whisper. It was enough to invite him back to me. He brushed my hair from my face with both hands, cupping my cheeks and tilting my face to him. His eyes darted from my mouth to my eyes, seeking my permission to continue,

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“Oh Jax,” I moaned softly. It was all he needed. His mouth crashed onto mine, needing, hungry. I couldn’t get enough of him. My hands clawed at his back, his arms, his neck, dragging him closer. I was buzzed from the tequila but I knew what I wanted. I wanted Jax. We had a lot to fix, but eight years was going to take more than one stupid mistake from each of us to destroy, Jax and I were determined to prove that to eachother.

---------

@hanaissupergirl @cole-winchester @soawonder

#soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Jax Teller #soa jax #soa tig #tig trager

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willgayers · 6 years

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i havent been COMPLETELY thru your list of reddie fics so if youve already done something similar ignore this but. what about a sickfic where richie is sick? also maybe eddie just like, forgets about germs to take care of him and then ends up getting sick too and blaming richie and richies jus like, dude, were you here

i changed it a little but only the part where he blames richie and richie wonders if he was there !!! hope u like it :-)

again,,, sorry for the length?? but i cant write these short?? also again. IT IS WORTH IT

so obviously eddie is TERRIFIED of germs and every time one of the losers has even a little flu he’s not gonna touch anything they touch and will stand 5 feet away from them and honestly in the end will probably just be that one friend who’s gonna say

“my mom said no”

just so that he won’t hurt his friends’ feelings even tho he really just doesn’t wanna be anywhere near them bc hey he could get it too and it could turn into something more dangerous like leper obviously

but then one tragic time… richie gets a flu

and eddie’s very torn bc he doesn’t wanna be with richie cause ???? he isn’t clean

but then again they were supposed to hangout

eddie is thinking whether he should ditch richie or not

“jesus i’ve been sneezin since 8am”

yeah eddie is not gonna go there

the gERMS ARE FLYING and just the thought makes him shiver

he’s thinking that oh well maybe tomorrow he’s gonna be ok again

spoiler alert: he’s not

so eddie suffers thru the day bc its boring at school without richie

they talk on the phone later that day and eddie’s like hey r u feeling any better

“i am nod” richie answers with a stuffed nose

eddie just sits on his bed with a facial expression that is nothing other than :(

then the day after that ,,, eddie goes to school in hopes of that maybe richie had a miracle healing last night and now he’s gonna be there

LMAO YOU THOUGHT EDS

now eddie is just gettin pissed off bc how dare his boyfriend be sick for this long

so again that night they speak on the phone

“richie jesus christ when are u gonna HEAL”

“i am do dorry eddi-spageddi bud i am just so sig”

eddie is gonna turn into hulk soon from the conflict bc he REALLY misses richie

should i stay or i should go™

(nice stranger things reference)

ok maybe eddie is gonna give it one more day.

so it’s friday and richie has missed school for almost the whole WEEK

“wow eddie you’ve been without richie for almost the whole school week how’s that feel must be a new record huh”

“shut up stan”

don’t be mean stan

eddie’s heart is breakin

again,,, he goes home from school and calls richie immediately

“ARE YOU,,,,STILL…. SICK?????”

“yeah i— *LEPER COUGH* i ah-ah-AMh *cough*”

eddie cringes because ???? oh my gosh he is turning into a zombie

“oK THATS IT”

eddie has had it

he hangs up and stomps out of the house and rides his bike to the grocery store and buys all kinds of stuff like non-caffeine tea ((bc he knows for a fact that it helps better than regular)),, some ice cream and chicken soup in a can even tho eddie thinks it’s disgusting and fights with one of the workers

“YOU DONT HAVE NORMAL,,, READY CHICKEN SOUP IN THE FRESH FOOD SECTION????”

“yeah not today”

“my bOYFRIenD haS bEeN SiCK!! FOR A WEEk and i hAVE TO BRING HIM A CAN????”

eddie shakes his head in disbelief and curses the store as he walks away

then he finally arrives at richie’s house

he knocks on the door first just in case his terrible excuse of parents are home but they aren’t

so he leans down to grab the key from under the doormat and opens the door

he walks in and stiffens his upper lip as he glances around at the sight of empty beer cans and liquor bottles and there’s just the smell of old booze and cigarettes in the air

like it’s normal (and eddie hates that it’s normal) but richie’s SICK and he should be breathing fresh air not the literal definition of the breath of a drunken bum who’s been living in the gutter

this wasn’t what he was expecting bc he figured that richie’s parents would at least open the fucking window because their son is sick inside the house

so quickly eddie makes his way to richie’s room that is at the end of the hallway and he knocks on it softly before opening the door

he finds richie sitting in his bed ,,, burrito inside blankets and he’s watching something from his laptop

his eyes are red and his face is a lil swollen and nose also v red

eddie wants to cry bc he looks so bad

“eddi???”

“yes,,, eddi to the rescue” he mocks his boyfriend’s stuffy nose voice a little

richie is literally starstruck bc ???? EDDIE IS THERE ???? EDDIE , IS THERE , WHEN HE IS SICK ????

“whad de fug edz u should go befor u ged dis doo”

“i’ve been to school without you for a week now richard im done”

richie wants to cry

eddie is still just staring at him bc he doesn’t know how to approach him since he’s still a little disgusted at the situation this is all new for him ok but he really wants to help his bf

“i bought u some stuff”

richie starts to smile wide

“BUT” eddie starts

“before i give u any”

“????”

“you’re gonna leave this house”

richie looks at him like he’s crazy

“r u serioud eddi every pard of ma badi hurts”

eddie feels so bad for him

“you don’t even have fresh air here richie so i am serious”

richie can’t take the fact that his boyfriend is such a knight in shiny armor

eddie leaves the bag for a moment to grab richie inside his blanket burrito and pull him up.

“ur gonna have to get rid of this blanket tho”

“no:(”

eddie looks at him

“srsly richie i can’t give you a ride on my bike you’re gonna fall down and roll down the hill”

“:(”

“i will give you my blanket once we’re there”

richie throws his blanket down way too fast and he starts feeling nauseous

the bike ride isn’t very aesthetic™ for him either bc his head is spinning and all of his muscles hurt and oh my gosh he’s doing his everything not to throw up on eddie’s back rn

eddie’s mom isn’t home so eddie can easily sneak richie in

he’s not sure how he’s gonna explain him living there until he’s healthy again tho

but he’s not gonna worry about that now

(fast forward;

i donT CARE THAT HE’S SICK AND INFECTED MOM,, i LoVE HiM!!!!)

so now they go into eddie’s room ( he’s basically holding richie up )

and richie settles down on eddie’s bed and eddie wraps him inside a blanket and richie is just smiling at him the whole time

“r u comfortable”

“very” richie says. the blanket smells like eds and he is in eddie’s bed. ofc he’s comfortable

“here’s my laptop”

eddie hands him his macbook and goes to the kitchen to prepare the chicken soup. in the can. which eddie still thinks is unacceptable as he heats it up

“here”

richie is about to cry bc “did you really mage me chiggen soub”

eddie nods with a light frown like wtf obviously that’s what you eat when you’re sick

“there’s also ice cream”

“ice cream???”

“yeah it’s for the throat…???

eddie is kinda confused bc how can richie not know it helps

then it occurs to him that

richie doesn’t know, because

no one’s probably ever taken care of him when he’s sick????

i REPEAT, NO ONE’S EVER TAKEN CARE OF RICHIE TOZIER WHEN HE IS SICK

now eddie wants to cry

“scoot over”

he wants richie to be on the side next to the wall so he can lean his head on it if he wants to it’s more comfy

with a lil trouble richie does move and eddie cuddles up next to him

literally cuddles

richie is SHOCKED

“are you sure u wanna do dat”

“100%”

richie wants to marry eddie

“wad r we watchin”

“kill bill”

“waid a minude… isn’d dis-”

“yours. yeah. i never watched it and i never gave it back so”

“u never watched dis?? oh my god eddi—”

“eat ur chicken soup and watch this movie with me now oKAY” eddie is a pissed off knight in shiny armor bc talking is just gonna exhaust richie more and he needs to get WELL

richie eats his soup and they watch the movie in silence,,,, glued to each other and at some point eddie realizes richie’s fallen asleep with his head resting towards eddie’s

eddie can’t move because he knows if he does he’s gonna wake up richie

but thankfully after like 15 minutes richie wakes up and he’s like “shid where am i”

“you’re with me”

he turns his gaze down at eddie and he remembers that yes,,, he is in fact with eddie and he just feels: ️️️️️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

well the weekend goes by and eddie goes hardcore nurse on richie and literally by sunday he is already pretty healthy like his voice is back to normal and so on

but… Oh… no

eddie and richie are eating in the kitchen

richie goes;

“baby can u pass me that ketchup”

“sure—”

SNEEZE

eddie’s eyes widen and he freezes in shock

richie looks at him like o'shit he done caught the flu

but then he starts to smile

“WELL I GUESS I WON’T BE GOING TO SCHOOL FOR ANOTHER WEEK”

“what do you mean?!?!?!”

“because obviously im gonna take care of u”

eddie is 😨😭💘😓😭💕😨😭💗

then later they tell the other losers why they’re both missing school and stanley uris wants to comment again

“so eddie u went to richie’s house??”

“yesh”

“and i thought i was romantic letting bill choose dinner”

@nopetaking @xbell22 @donthateonk8 @stenbroughbros @reddiebrekmyheart @itsgreywaterrichie @donvex @blueeyespurpleskies @ageorgymi @oh-youre-the-worst @eddiekaaspbraak @whipashwhipash @rissyq @richietoaster @edskasqbrak @waterlouis @wyattghouleff@urtury @bukiminajimu @kcutieeesblog @stansmansuris @adorefack@reddieaddict @icyeyes102@denbroughbill @graveyardshipper @taletellingsir @anxiety-freak-yuuri @rheddie @queertrashmouth

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #hcs #it 2017 #it fanfiction #reddie headcanon

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faeyja-moved-to-pinkbotany · 6 years

Text

Ceramic Cocaine (Sherlock Gnomes/Sigmund Freud) Pt. 3

previously on a very special episode of ceramic cocaine.,.,.,,,,,,,,.,.,,, twinksla fuckin died, peter griffin took his fuckin hands, freud bible,,,,,,,,,

"wow sherlock i didnt know you dated peter griffin?? how very scandalous" said freud, forgetting peter's Gun

"now is not the time freud you little bitch," said sherlock taking out a gun. "yes i dated peter griffin but it was because my dick was desperate and lonely"

"hot"

"Fuck you"

"SHUT UP YOU IDIOTS!" said peter with a even larger gun

"ooh a biger gun is that penis imagery" said i think you know who

suddenly the rest of the ssf walked in

"WOAH A TALKING GNOME" said einshtein "U WERENT LYING TESLA" einstein called at tesla's corpse which wa being carryd gently by darwin

"alright bitches ive got a gun" sed petre "if sherlock doesnt get into my pants rn i'll fucking kil yall"

"oh no my freinds are in truble and so is my secet gay lvoer" said/thoguht rfreued. "What will i do?????? i kno i will bring elextric twink back to life yeah bitch lets go WOOO"

suddenly freud used his magixal girl powe rs to bring twink nikokila back to life

"hey the twink's back" said churchill

tesla fuckin kill peter

gnomes bent over his ex boyfriends corpsed and kissed his head "goodnight sweet prince"

"k bye"

then everyone left freud's room cuz it smelled like jizz and sweat

"wow i cant believe freud's mind was so in the Gutter! get it? garden jokes???????? bazinga" said tappuitiui

"bazinga" said einstein in agrrement

"anyway" said fredud kicking petah's corpse into the closet (get it gay jokes ha)" "now that you have your hands you wanna give me a handjob"

"hell yeah round two" said gnomes, rolling up his sleeves

*various moaning noises i dont know*

"so anyways," moaned freud "what happened between you and, hm, peter"

freud and gnomes stared at the closet

gnomes sighed and looked like he was goknaba cry "peter was a bad man i dont want to talk about"

"ok" said freud

"ok" said freud

"ok" said gnomes

and then they did the nasty agan

but outside window.... another mann

it was . JOHN WATSON GNOME???

to be contineu

#super science friends #ssf

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sugarcult · 6 years

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Now that I’ve disrupted your scrolling with what is simultaneously the worst edit and the worst image that has ever existed on this hellsite, I have something I wanted to say. 2017 has been a tough year for all of us, but there were some things about this year that made my life better. Some people, actually! I’ve officially left the 1D fandom (it’s a scary place) to join the HP fandom, but I’ll always have one foot in the gutter because I met some really amazing people in that fandom this year. I spent nearly six years in the One Direction fanbase without making a single friend, and I’ve been super fortunate lately to acquire a lot of them! Quality friends who I didn’t even know I was missing. So as a way to kind of round off the year, I wanna say thank you, to all of you.

@please-dont-freak-out - You were the first person who ever approached me online. We were fast friends, and every time we talked at first, I was terrified I was going to fuck it up. Now you’re my mom, and one of the kindest people I know.

@louistunnelvision - I don’t even remember what we started talking about, but I do know that I was super excited to meet you and that you’re one of the coolest people on the planet. Because of you, I finally feel like I have a family here on this terrible website, and aside from being an awesome friend to me, I’ll always remember you for that. I owe you one, or a million, and I s2g one day I’ll get a gift to you. Lmao

@rosealouis - MY MOMTHER. My soft, dainty, beautiful, grunge momther. You’re sunshine personified, and Harry would be proud. I remember messaging you to tell you happy birthday and being terrified you would think I was weird or that I would spaz out and do something dumb, but then when we properly talked, you were so cool???? Ilysm????????? I feel like we’ve gotten super close recently, and I really value our friendship so much, I mean that.

@hands-and-knees-7-years-straight - Les! I’m not gonna lie, I see a lot of myself in you, and I mean that in the best way, all the things I like about myself. Except that you’re like all those things on steroids. You’re so sweet, and you always put others first, even when you’ve got a lot going on yourself. I always feel like I can go to you, and you are truly a treasure of a friend. I’ve never met anyone as giving as you are, and you deserve the entire world.

Leilani - I’m gonna just send you the link to this because you changed your url and then I deleted my old blog and now I thought I knew your url but it was the wrong one and anYWAY. I MISS YOU SO MUCH. I know we both have a lot going on, but now that you’re around a little more, I’m so so so glad to see you in my notifications. You always make me smile, and I love how excited you get about things when you talk about them, and you always make me feel like I matter. You have some beautiful nicknames for beards as well, which is bound to brighten anyone’s mood!

@foolishrainbow - YOU. ARE. THE. PUREST. I love you so much??? I don’t even know where to begin??????? You’re so approachable, and you just love Niall so much, and like. Niall is everyone’s favorite, and there’s something about you that just reminds me of him, like. It would be impossible to dislike you.

@pezzles17 - UHHHHH, there are no words for you. You’ve been such a great friend to me from the get-go, even though I - right off the bat - confused you for somebody else. I feel like I can talk to you about literally anything, and you’re such a role model. You have a huge heart, and you are so passionate about the things you love, fierce in your friendships. You seriously have a heart of gold (even though you don’t like my son Draco), and you’ve been there for me when I wasn’t sure anybody was. EVENTUALLY, I’ll get that book to you. I’m the worst.

@doesthelittleone - Things I associate with you: rabbits and :v. You’re just such a warm person???? Literally, you could disappear for a week and come back and it feels like you never left. Friendship with you is so natural, and you always have the BEST animal pictures???????? You’re like. I don’t know, ice cream and daisies on an April morning. (Also Drarry osngosgn)

@intrinsicsyn - BOYYYYYY, I straight up would have driven my ass to Alabama for you. You really intimidated me at first????? (I can’t remember why, because you’re so approachable?) I hope we make it up there and get to visit you on the trip, because as much time as you spent away at first, you’re part of the family now! And you’re never gonna get rid of me! WHOOPS.

@damnbreaux - Dude, what can I even say? We were such fast friends. Immediately, I was like, “Holy shit, who is that?” You’re so smart, witty, and just. I don’t know how to put it exactly, but you’re like exactly the person I’ve been looking for for years, and I never even knew I was looking! I wish we talked more, but I love you very much a lot, and I always smile so widely when your name shows up in my notifs.

@feel-love-like-weather - MY BUDDY. MY PAL. My aesthetic bro, resident boot enthusiast, and selfie queen. I love you so much, and I love how we can go from talking about mundane stuff to freaking out about exams to talking covers and Fleetwood Mac. I was so happy to finally meet you at the show, and next time I’m over that way, we should hang out again! You’re an icon, truly. (And your dog is adorable wtf.)

@haveyourselfaharrylittlexmas - We haven’t talked in a while, but you are SO. SWEET. You were super understanding when I had things going on and had to sort them out on my own. I miss you in my inbox, and I still think about you all the time. You’re so good at putting other people at ease, and it’s so easy to see why so many other people love you!

@harry-loves-louis-bitch - You’re such a gift, honestly. A complete and total sweetheart. We met because of Drarry, and honestly, I was so excited because I had just switched over to being a HP blog. And then we got to talking and you’re just so???? Amazing?????? I never have to wonder if you care, and you’re such a courteous person. I hope your practicals go well, and I’m sending lots of love your way.

And last but not least, @love-someone-special - A surprise friend! I wasn’t expecting to make another friend any time soon, especially within the end of the year, but here you are! We’re still getting to know each other, but you’re so easy to talk to, and I spend like 18 minutes spazzing out and you never leave, so I guess that’s a good sign! Lol. You have a gift with words, and I’m already so glad to have met you.

Here’s to the friends I’ve made in 2017, and may you all prosper in 2018! I love you all, and I hope our friendships only grow from here on out. Now we can all pretend that terrible picture at the top of the post never happened and go about our merry ways.

Much love and a whole lot of feels,

Courtney

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1nf1n · 4 years

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Crystal ball break your balls then crush my teeth rip em out with plyers and call me unseen put some needles in my eye socket cock your glock and block me out you have the code to deaf yet you wont let me be deaf blind dumb so I can shut the fuck up I dont decieve you i dont wanna have nothing to do with you when you running from something. Catch up 88886 billion years behind you saw this was really pointless back then tried to tell you but you wouldnt listen just like now you're sick and twisted with your wisdom flying out your disk put in the Rom and eat some rommy noodles while watching a documentary on ghengis khan part time holy part time monster like vlad the impaler get trapped on an escalator why those made so you can be darth vador? Ive about had it entirely. Id rather sit in the bottomless pit of hell then sit with your family for eternity. Name my puppy Leah just to try and spite me get me trapped in your circus loop of fraternity when really y'all just disgusting discussing the fact makes me unimpressed then y'all laugh at me and call me negative for being depressed? You like Dexter im like shut the fuck up and go die hector. Silence of the lambs cause gods being a freak. Dont even fucking peep little bo peep gonna carve your ass with a scalpel then ask for your PayPal and you think hes gonna help you? No. He won't. 5652 who you think is the devil 92? No the devil is 1. He dont know how to stop the pattern cause his dicks gone talk about ha penis got shove down the gutter of some baby infant child who deserved nothing but peace love prosperity and protection now look what you did. Youre just sick. I cant stand you. Now thats what i call aqueous humor. SPLIT!

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