#i sit in my chair and i Hand Flap and i Wiggle

[withacapitalp]

Hurricane Joy

Written for the STWG Daily Prompt "applesauce". This is just a little snippet of a universe where Steve's parents left him with a little half sister, and he and Eddie are dancing around some feelingsssss

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

“Joy, I’ll pay you five bucks to eat. You want five bucks? You can do so many things with five bucks!” 

“Careful there, Harrington. Don’t all those parenting books say bargaining with children develops bad habits?” Eddie asked as he entered the kitchen, finding Steve sitting in front of Joy with applesauce absolutely covering both of their faces. 

“They’ve never had to take on Hurricane Joy and the applesauce of doom,” Steve groaned, pouting in Eddie’s direction as he walked further into the room, pausing to pat Steve on the back as he approached the two. 

“So how is our baby bean today?” Eddie asked, pressing an exaggerated kiss to the top of Joy’s head and listening to her squeal in glee as he did. 

Sure, she had been named after Joyce, but a part of Eddie was honestly convinced that Joy had heard her name once and then made it her mission to live up to it every single second of the day. Even her epic meltdown moments ended up being funny to watch. 

“Well she’s happy as a clam, but breakfast has taken,” Steve paused to look at his watch, sighing and shaking his head when he saw the time, “Over an hour. Applesauce is my enemy, Eds, I swear to god it is.” 

“Well maybe if you stop making faces at her it would go faster,” Eddie suggested, barely holding back his laughter as Steve gave him the world’s bitchiest look before turning back to Joy with renewed vigor. 

“I’m not making faces,” Steve said, continuing to make weird faces at the baby as he tried and failed to spoon applesauce into her mouth. Joy cooed at her brother’s antics, smiling a bright gummy smile as the applesauce dribbled out of her mouth. 

“C’mon, Joy, work with me,” Steve begged, holding out the spoon, “Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me to be happy?” 

Joy burbled, grabbing at the spoon and trying to yank it out of Steve’s grip, flinging applesauce everywhere as she did. Eddie dodged the bit that had been heading for his hair, trying not to burst into laughter as he watched a glob land directly in the middle of Steve’s forehead. 

“Maybe her favorite babysitter should give it a shot?” Eddie offered, trying to act like he wasn’t dying from laughter inside. Most of the time Steve took things fine, but Eddie knew there was a deeply hidden part of his best friend that took every single ‘failure’ as even more evidence he wasn’t cut out to raise his half-sister on his own. 

“Her favorite babysitter is Wayne and you know it,” Steve said with a sigh, voluntarily releasing the spoon and walking over to the sink to wash himself off. 

“Yes, but Wayne was the one who used to get me to eat when I was in silly moods too,” Eddie replied, unable to keep from changing his tone to complete babytalk as he sat in front of Joy. It was just impossible to not want to make those chubby cheeks turn up into a big grin, “Yes he was. I was a silly boy just like you’re a silly silly girl!” 

Joy wiggled in her high chair, slapping her hands down on the tray table as she babbled. 

“And how exactly did he do that?” Steve asked dryly, wiping his face on a clean washcloth and tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned against the sink. 

“Usually with pliers and a crowbar,” Eddie immediately shot back. 

He waited for a few seconds, watching Steve get paler and paler until he was forced to put the man out of his misery. 

“Kidding! Geez, Stevie, lighten up.”

“Sorry I guess I’m just nervous,” Steve said, flapping a hand as he walked closer, reaching down with the washcloth to clean up Joy’s face, “Since it’s the first time…”

He trailed off with a sigh, avoiding eye contact with Eddie and focusing on Joy. Completely unaware, she looked up at her brother, sticking her tongue out and cackling to herself as she did. 

She truly was the world’s cutest baby, but Eddie had someone equally cute he needed to focus his attention on. 

“Everything’s fine now, I promise.” Eddie said, putting down the cup and spoon and coaxing Steve into a hug. He held Steve tight, feeling the other boy clinging on just as hard, burrowing his face into Eddie’s shoulder as he released the tension that had been holding him hostage since the moment Eddie walked in.

It made sense that Steve was so frazzled. This was the first time he was leaving Joy home without him.  

“You’ll go to your shift, you’ll come home with a VHS, we’ll put the baby down, and we’ll celebrate, just you and me” Eddie said, laying the day out in easy to follow steps and hoping that would ease some of Steve’s anxiety, “Me and Joy will stay here the whole day. The only place we’ll go is in the backyard, and I’ll make sure she wears a jacket and shoes if we do,” 

“Starting to sound pretty domestic there Munson,” Steve mumbled, but Eddie could hear the smile on his lips. 

“I’m a regular Lucy Ricardo,” Eddie declared, pulling away from Steve and gently pushing him towards the door, “Now shoo. Go bring home the bacon, Big Daddy.” 

Steve turned red in a second, even the tips of his ears burning a dusty rouge as he shoved Eddie away and spluttered for something to say. It was a lot harder for Steve to think of snappy comebacks now that he had implemented a no cursing rule in the house, and Eddie was planning on taking advantage of that in every way he could. 

Joy was amazing for everything she did, even the unintentional things. 

“I love you, baby. I’ll be home soon. You be a good girl for Eddie,” Steve crooned, giving Joy a thousand kisses before he turned to leave, pausing for a second before walking back over and pressing a firm kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

“Be home at five, Darling. You better have dinner in the oven and waiting,” Steve ordered, flashing Eddie a tricky little grin before he disappeared out the door. Eddie blinked rapidly at the air in front of him, as if he could will Steve back into existence so he could demand to know exactly what the fuck had just happened. 

“Your brother’s trying to kill me, Joy.” Eddie moaned, hiding his face behind his hair as Joy continued to shout nonsense words in his direction

[anticomedygarden]

"Would you quit looking at everyone like that?" Will said exasperatedly. "You're scaring people."

Nico didn't even try to control his scowl as he studied each of Will's classmates. It could be any one of them, really, since Will had stuck a bi pride pin on his backpack for anyone to see. (Not that he had a problem with the flag, obviously, but when half the room was clearly leering at his boyfriend...maybe he had a problem with it.) "If you just told me which one-"

"No," Will interrupted, fiddling with something on the chair. The two were at a blood drive in the cafeteria of Will's school, and Will, being a med student, had to work it along with several kids in the same program, giving Nico a perfect chance keep Will company. "I'm not telling you who was hitting on me."

"Why?" Nico thought it was a fair question, him being the boyfriend and all.

"'Cause I prefer my classmates unmurdered, thanks."

"I wouldn't murder anyone," he grumbled.

"Tell that to your face."

Somehow, he resisted the urge to give Will the finger.

Around them, doctor's office chairs were occupied by generous people hooked up to machines taking their blood. Will's was the only empty chair.

So maybe it was Nico's fault.

He worked on unclenching his jaw, and within a few minutes, someone approached them.

Will smiled and pulled out a clipboard. "Hi! Are you here to give blood?"

The blonde woman smiled. "Yes."

"Awesome! Go ahead and sit down. I have a few questions to ask you."

She maneuvered herself into the chair awkwardly, glancing at Nico a couple times. "Is this confidential?"

Will nodded. "Of course."

She looked at Nico again. "What about him?"

Nico waved a hand. "I'm gonna go get a drink."

Without waiting, he walked through the cafeteria and out into the hallway to wander around for a bit. There were very few people in the hall, even for a Saturday, so he was able to explore unhindered. He passed a lot of classrooms (obviously), several with anatomical models, a couple with actual full skeletons, and one with the distinct smell of formaldehyde wafting from it, a smell he probably shouldn't be able to identify so easily. For how much everybody considered him and Will to be opposites, their domains really weren't all that different, honestly.

In one hallway, there was a big floor-to-ceiling window through which he saw some pigeons absolutely going at it, the city skyline a simple background to the showdown of the century as the birds flapped their wings menacingly and pecked and jabbed at each other. Just when the fight was getting good and Nico thought they could be monsters in disguise, they just flew off, disappearing into the cloudy expanse above.

Well. They couldn't all be epic Greek demigods.

At some point, he found a vending machine and bought himself some chips and a bag of Doritos to take back to Will, and, checking the time, started making his way back to the cafeteria.

When he got there, Will brightened considerably across the room, which made Nico pretty happy. Take that, mystery person.

There was nobody in the chair, so Nico walked right up to him. "Hey, Sunshine."

"Hey." Will grabbed his wrist in a latexed hand. "Are those Doritos?"

Nico laughed. "Yeah, but you can't have them until you wash your hands. Germs." He wiggled his fingers.

Will wrinkled his nose. "Fine. Hey, as long as you're here, why don't I take your blood?"

Nico looked at him oddly but got in the chair. "I thought you couldn't use our blood because of the ichor?"

"That's not what I need it for."

Incredibly confused, Nico narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was some kind of modern thing he didn't know about. "What?"

Will continued getting him ready for the blood draw. "Do you know how much blood your reckless ass loses weekly? It's good to have it on hand."

Nico blinked at him, then offered his arm. "Um. Alright."

Which was how, ten minutes later, Nico ended up shoving two bags of his own blood into his inner jacket pocket, hoping nobody was watching.

"I better not get arrested for this," Nico muttered, because even in this completely ridiculous, stupid-as-shit situation, he never even considered not covering for Will.

"You'll be fine," Will said as packed up his station. Apparently, it was time to go. "That's what the mist is for." Even so, he glanced around, checking for eyes among the other med students getting ready to leave for the day. Then, satisfied, he stood and offered Nico his hand. "Ready to go?"

Nico took it, lacing their fingers together. "Yep."

Together, they walked out the doors into the sweet free air.

[mikeysw1fey]

you can’t swim???

request linked here :)

pairing: vada cavell x female reader

warnings: almost drowning, smoking, mentions of sex

Swimming is not my forte. Everyone knew this especially after the incident that occurred in the sixth grade.

I had been careless and wandered into the schools aquatics room with my friend Nick who stated he “wanted to watch hot bods of the swimmers” a little weird for a sixth grader to say but I didn’t judge. And then of course I slipped. Slipped and dropped like a stone to the bottom on the pool. I swear the amount of water I swallowed could’ve been enough to fill a tiny lake as I spluttered and flapped my arms around incoherently until one of the swimmers pushed me up and out the pool. Not my proudest moment. And the teasing has not yet ceased, considering I’m in my last year of high school now. Anyway after that day I vowed never to touch water again.

Well I tried anyway.

“Baby please. Please. Please.” Vada’s pout and puppy dog eyes may be my weakness but I was determined to stay strong.

“Ok fine.”

I failed miserably.

Vadas squeal is so high pitched I was scared my dog would come running as she leaps into my arms and peppers kisses to my face. “I promise this will be so fun and Mia will love you for saying yes.”

“What did I get myself into?” I sigh burying my face in Vadas neck who chuckles. I had just agreed to smoke weed at Mias house. It’s not that I haven’t smoked before, trust me I have but I’ve never smoked with Vada before.

“I promise you I’m like super chill when high.” Vada nods with a serious face. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” I retort gently poking her sides causing her so squirm in my arms.

“Oh you will see.” She wiggles her eyebrows before pushing me against the couch, straddling my waist. “But right now I think we have a little time before we have to go.” Her teeth bite her lower lip as her hands begin climbing up my stomach. I raise my eyebrows suggestively. “Then let’s use this time wisely.”

……..

“It’s puff puff pass Vada not puff puff puff puff pass.” Mia whines reaching for the joint as Vada takes another hit and grins cheekily. Lazy eyed, Vada hands Mia the joint and leans back against my knees as the three of us sit atop the lounge chairs just adjacent to the pool.

“My turn.” I hold out my hand and take another hit as Mia passes over the joint. Vada grins at me as I blow out the smoke. “I’m gonna go piss.” Mia drawls. She slowly moves off the lounge chair and heads towards the back doors. “And don’t fuck on my chairs ok?” Mia glances over her shoulder to squint her red eyes at the two of us.

Vada nods frantically watching as Mia walks into the house before jumping atop my lap and letting her hands roam my thighs. “Vada, you heard the woman. No sex on the chairs.” I laugh, looking at her with half lidded eyes. “No one’s gonna know. Actually that’s a lie, I’ll know and you’ll know. And maybe Mia if shes a fast pisser. You know I’m a fast pisser? I literally peed in under ten seconds yesterday-“ I slap a hand over her mouth and groan.

“Your a liar Vada. A liar.” I sigh with a shake of my head only flinching when Vadas tongue drags itself up my palm which still rests against her lips. “What? How?” Vada’s eyes widen as she places her hands on the sides of my face.

“I promise I’m like super chill when I’m high.” I mock Vadas earlier statement with exaggerated shrugs of my shoulders. Vada snorts and sits back on my thighs letting my face go.

“I am the chillest. Look at me.” She smiles like a child and I can’t help but find her adorable. “Ok baby.” I give in and wrap my arms around her waist to kiss her lips and potentially shut her up for a minute.

“What the fuck did I say.” A groan echoes across the pool area. Mia’s head falls back as she groans again and walks towards us. I pull away from Vada keeping my hands on her waist as Mia re takes her spot next to us.

“Didn’t fuck. So keep your mouth closed.” Vada glares at Mia who in turn glares at Vada. “I would hope not.” Mia remains serious before the two break out into laughter.

Silence encompasses us for a minute as the two regain their breath, Vadas eyes drifting towards the pool.

“Mia come here for a sec I think I see something over here.” Vada stands up and crouches at the side of the pool, pretending to notice something strange.

Mia follows her and crouches down next to Vada with a frown. “I see nothing.” She scoffs glancing at Vada who smirks. I roll my eyes instantly knowing what’s going to happen as Vadas hand comes to ghost over Mias back.

“Why don’t you take a closer look?” Mia screams as Vada shoves her forwards into the depths of the pool. “I’m gonna fucking kill you Vada Cavell.” Mia’s head breaks the surface of the water, her mascara running down her cheeks as she glares daggers at the smaller girl who shrieks and runs to my side, attempting to hide behind me.

“Im too lazy to chase you but Ima get you when you least expect it Vada.” Mia calls from the pool as she begins to float on her back, eyes closed.

“Your an asshole.” I chuckle looking over my shoulder at my girlfriend who has another smirk on her face. “Baby no.” I instantly stand up and walk away from the girl who stalks towards me hands outstretched.

“I just want a hug.” Vada pouts, the smirk gone but the dangerous look in her eyes clear as day. “No chance Cavell.” I shake my head and look away from Vada for a second to make sure I was not going to fall over.

Big mistake.

Vada makes her move and rushes at me, hands outstretched and making contact with my body causing me to stumble backwards and straight into the water behind me.

“Va-“ My screech is cut off as the cool liquid surrounds me, pulling me under the water. Fear courses through my veins as memories of my last encounter with water flash past my eyes.

My arms thrash around frantically which doesn’t seem to do much as I can’t seem to push my head above the water.

I’m gonna die.

I can’t breathe.

My brain falls into overdrive as I sink even deeper into the water and my lungs fill up with the clear liquid.

As I struggle a pair of arms wrap around my waist and pull me to the surface before tugging me out the pool and onto the concrete beside it.

“Baby? Can you hear me? I’m so sorry.” I splutter for a minute before glancing over to see a dripping wet Vada and a wide eyed Mia standing over me.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you in, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t break up with me.” Vada has tears pouring down her cheeks as she gently grabs my hand.

I heave for a second more before my breathing slowly returns to normal. My fingers grip Vadas hard. “It’s not your fault. I never told you, although to be fair I thought everyone had heard about my incident with Nick years ago.” I manage to chuckle and Vada let’s out a breathy laugh.

“Right, that was you.” Mia snorts from the other side of me causing me to glare playfully at her. “I’m gonna grab towels,” She smiles patting my head gently as she gets up leaving Vada and I alone.

“I’m so so sorry.” Vada wipes her face roughly as she avoids my gaze. I frown and reach for her face. “I forgive you baby. I’m ok.” I whisper gently stroking her wet cheek.

Vada finally looks up at me and manages a small smile. “You scared me.” She whispers leaning her head into my palm. “I thought I killed my girlfriend.”

I chuckle softly and kiss her head. “Maybe I’m in need of some mouth to mouth?” I wiggle my eyebrows and Vada lets out a snort before crawling in between my legs and pressing her lips to mine.

Her hands worm their way up my chest and cup my face as mine thread through her dripping hair. Her lips pull into a smile against my mouth as I tug gently.

Both of us remain enamoured with one another oblivious to the sound of the sliding door open.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Again?”

[sendarya]

My cozy holiday short fic. Enjoy!

The Note

The first thing Crowley became aware of was a loud ticking sound. The next was light. He opened his eyes and a barrage of glittery twinkles assaulted him.

“Wassat?” He mumbled sleepily, blinking and squinting behind his glasses.

A blur of white, beige, and teal came into view as his eyes continued to adjust.

“Mr. Crowley!” exclaimed the blur, before sharpening into the figure of Muriel. 

He frowned and cocked his head at the lights as the heaviness of sleep slid from him. Focusing properly, he could see there was a thin, scraggly tree covered in bits of paper under the mass of twinkles. “What’s all this?” he asked in a confused tone.

Muriel looked puzzled for a moment “What? Oh this” Their confusion quickly transformed into excitement.  “It’s called a Christmas tree? Some people came into the shop the other day, and they were all talking about something called Christmas! Of course, I didn’t sell them any books, just like you told me, Mr Crowley”. 

“Just Crowley” he interrupted, but remained sprawled in the chair he’d been napping in for the last few months. “And I know what Christmas is, I'm just wondering what it's doing in here”. He glanced all around where even more bits of paper and ribbon hung, seemingly at random, throughout the shop. 

“Oh, right, sorry. Um, Crowley. So, I was saying, they were talking about Christmas, and I remembered seeing that word in a book upstairs. Mr. Fell has a whole section on how to celebrate something called “holidays””, they made little quotes with their fingers, bobbing their head from side to side enthusiastically. Crowley transferred his gaze back to the chaos around the tree, and spotted 3 small parcels wrapped in brown paper and string sitting neatly under the scrawny greenery. He pushed down the urge to order it to be a bit less rangy. “Erm” he said, frowning in the direction of the tree “and what’re those?”

“Ah, you see, those are presents? It’s just something humans do.” Muriel flapped their hands a little and shuffled nervously over to the tree to pick up the smallest of the parcels. They turned, beaming. "This one’s for you.”

He frowned down at the little package they were holding out, making no move to take it. “Presents,” he repeated flatly. He tried to ignore the offering, “who are the other two for, then?” They continued holding the package, wiggling a little. 

 “Yes well, those are for Maggie and Nina? Because they’ve been ever so nice to me, while you were …” the smile vanished for an instant. “Resting”, they finished quickly, giving him a worried look. Then the smile was back as if it had never left. “And I thought this “present” might help cheer you up!” They bent over a little, and set it carefully on his lap when he continued to make no move to take it. They took a hesitant step back, then hurried off to one of the back rooms. 

He frowned down at the package in confusion. A moment later, Muriel returned with a glass of wine and a steaming cup of tea. They held the wine glass out to him, a hopeful expression on their face. “Just woke up” he half protested, but accepted the wine nonetheless. “You don’t drink tea.” He commented as they sat in a chair opposite him. 

“Um, no, but I do like to look at it, and do you know, it has a lovely smell.” They closed their eyes, their smile becoming more relaxed as they inhaled the steam. Then they opened their eyes again and gave him a timid, almost expectant look. “Well done” he said, but the sarcasm was lost on them. They beamed again and nodded to the package still in his lap.“You're supposed to open it? That’s what humans do with presents, they open them.”  

He sighed and drained his glass and set it on the side table, where Aziraphale used to set his tea….Quickly shutting off that train of thought, he unfolded the brown paper. Muriel sat forward eagerly as a long, thin, knitted scarf rolled out. It was a bright and cheery red, with silvery tassels. “Well, erm ” he tried to organize his thoughts, but they stayed stubbornly scattered. 

“It’s a scarf, like the one you have, but red! You like red don’t you, Mr., ah, Crowley?”  They quickly set aside the untouched tea and picked up the scarf, making as if to put it on him. “Hey now” he pushed his head further back into the chair, and took the scarf back. For a moment he wasn’t sure what to do with it, but they were looking at him with pure excitement, just like….no, better not think about that either. With a sigh he put it over his head, flipped it into a loose knot, then gave them something closer to a grimace than a smile. 

Muriel was practically glowing with enthusiasm. Suddenly, he remembered a bit about Christmas. “Well” he said “I suppose I should give you…” he patted his pockets absently, not expecting to find anything, when he felt more than heard the crinkle of paper in his left jacket pocket. He pulled it out, now completely bewildered. A creamy piece of parchment faced him, neatly folded, with just a letter C on the front, done in a lovely flourish. Suddenly, his hands were trembling, and he forgot all about Muriel, the scraggly tree, and the scarf. He fumbled open the paper and read:

“Dearest Crowley,

I trust this missive finds you well, and not too terribly distressed.

I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you, though I do hope you understand my reasons, now that I'm permitted to explain.

You see, when Agnes Nutter's Nice and Accurate prophecies came into my possession some years ago, as I'm certain you'll remember, I found a prophecy relating to me, and my hot cocoa going cold, if you can believe it. I was quite taken aback at first, but intrigued, I read on. To my amazement, there seemed to be a second prophecy concerning me.

Past the endyng, shouldst my rede to thee be headed, I see but oon thyng. Yf my second bodements doon turn to ash, thanne must thee, Pryncipality, keep closed thy mouth, until the tyme comes to leave that whiche thou cherishes, say yea to that which thou woudst say nay, and nay to that which thou woudst say yea.

As I’m certain you are well aware, prophecy is notoriously difficult to interpret, but it seems that I am destined to abandon the bookshop at some point. I am writing this note in the unlikely event that I am forced to leave without explanation. I don’t know how I will get this note to you, in that most unlikely occurrence. Perhaps I will just slip it into your pocket, my good fellow, with you none the wiser! You’ve always said I was terrible at magic, but I will never retire the act completely! 

Your dearest friend,

Aziraphale”

“Mr. Crowley, um, are you alright?” Muriel's voice broke through the haze. Without looking up, he refolded the parchment and replaced it, very carefully, back into his left jacket pocket.

Timidly, Muriel asked “Did you like the present?”

He looked at her for the first time since he woke up. “It was the best damned present ever.” Then he smiled and chuckled with a little snort while he slithered up out of the chair. “Where’d you stash the wine?” he called over his shoulder, and sauntered into the back without waiting for an answer.

[zorilleerrant]

Wisdom Teeth

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Tim agrees, patting Bernard’s hand as his boyfriend snuffles into his arm, for some reason chewing on a scar Tim has from not even Robin stuff, he got that the first time he fell off a skateboard, scraped his arm too hard on the stairs he was trying to do tricks on. It’s hard to get scraped up in costume, given all the armor everywhere. It’s why he wears pants.

“He does,” Bernard says, nuzzling Tim again, who wraps his arms tighter, not mostly in an effort to get Bern to stop biting him, “he has an identical scar, right here. I don’t think he’d like you flirting with me, you know. He’s my boyfriend. We’re literally dating.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I know,” Tim says, trying not to laugh. It’s not Bern’s fault he’s zonked out of his skull and can’t even hold himself up right now, that’s why Tim’s here, that’s why Tim’s in this chair with Bernard half on top of him, unable to decide whether he’s sitting in his own chair, or in Tim’s lap, or possibly not sitting at all. He gives Tim a goofy grin.

“He wouldn’t have to know, you know. I can keep secrets. He keeps secrets. He thinks I don’t know, but I know,” Bernard says, tracing the scar again. Oh, good. He’s regained use of his fingers. The fine motor control isn’t there, yet, and he ends up sort of smacking at him, but Tim has hope that with the gross motor control improving Bernard will stop resting his entire body weight on him any moment now.

“Yeah? What wouldn’t he have to know?” Tim says, trying to ignore his skin prickling at whatever secrets Bernard thinks he has. Maybe it’s just the cat. There’s a cat by the boat, one that Bern’s convinced Tim is taming somehow, but Tim isn’t even sure it’s actually a feral cat. He wouldn’t mind it moving in, but it’s a little sleek and shiny to be living on its own, and he’s pretty sure that’s actually a neighbor’s cat that manages to sneak out every now and then.

Bernard smacks Tim’s arm, on purpose this time, and says, “when we start our business, asshole. You know. You’ll be the quiet detective, and I’ll be the badass with a heart of gold, and at first we don’t get along, but then we become friends. Or something more. Only don’t tell Tim, because he’s, you know. My boyfriend. So we probably shouldn’t be anything more. He’s Robin, but I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

Tim freezes, and forces himself to relax, inch by inch, petting Bernard’s hair and not saying anything at all. He’d like to kiss his boyfriend, maybe, distract him, only it’s not going to work, not just because Bern never gives up on a conspiracy theory once he’s latched onto it, but because his lips are still numb and he’s kind of drooling a little and Tim isn’t sure he’s actually capable of noticing being kissed.

“You’re very hot, but I’m taken,” Bernard says, and then scoots his hand somewhere in the vicinity of Tim’s pec, and wiggles it in a way that passes for a grope at the moment. “No offense, because I’d totally do you otherwise. But like. I have a boyfriend, and he’s the best boyfriend in the whole world. Well, he’s not the best because he’s keeping secrets from me, Robin secrets, but that’s Gotham for you. Maybe we could make out, but only a little. He probably wouldn’t mind. Once he sees you.”

“That’s nice, Bern,” Tim says, not letting himself laugh this time, either, because Bernard looks so serious, and like his feelings might possibly be hurt. “Maybe once he gets here we can ask him about it.” He wonders if Bernard will remember the Robin Secrets when he comes out of it. Probably. Does he have proof? Or is this just another – but is it fair of Tim, to pretend it’s not true when it is? He can trust Bernard. It’s not the worst thing, having someone to talk to.

Bernard nods vigorously, hand flapping against Tim’s arm again, and steadies himself. Then, with a dramatic gasp, he traces a line down Tim’s arm. “Oh, dude, my boyfriend has an identical scar here,” he says, rubbing his cheek against it, and Tim really hopes that nurse is going to come back with the care instructions. “You’re not as hot at him. No offense.”

[levmada]

more tlou au<3 with levi as joel + gabi as ellie. (the scene where ellie is kidnapped) | previous one

//graphic blood/torture, death | 1.0k

Levi is cold. His breaths, forced steady, leave him in thin clouds. His lungs are cold and his hands, even through his leather gloves, icy. Snow sprinkles his hair and lashes. His heart is cold.

“What do you want?”

His icy glare doesn’t twitch. One fist bunched up in Asshole #1’s shirt forces him down to Levi’s height. He lands a final punch, knocking the guy’s bald head against the flimsy wooden wall, and to his twisted satisfaction, he feels bones crunch, and the full weight of his body sag with gravity. He drops his shirt, and lets him fall.

That’s what he gets. That’s what they’re all going to get.

Asshole #2 wiggles in the rotted chair that Levi tied him to with thick pieces of rope, opposite Levi and this one. He can see him snarling out of the corner of his good eye, but Levi turns his head, and a new sense of terror etched into the bastard’s face.

It’s pathetic. The harshest sense of Levi’s initial rage fades, but his conviction stays.

“Hey! Why’re you doin’ this? Can’t just torture somebody for no—”

Levi tunes him out as he examines his gloves. Already bloody. Disgusting.

The bookshelf Levi shoved against the door and the long-since boarded up windows just about ensures no escape if Asshole #1 wakes up before Levi’s finished. He’s out of rope.

But he isn’t the type to make gambles. His hard boot stomps down on one of this bastard’s ankles, again feeling bones crunch. The man shouts but doesn’t stir.

Then Levi breaks the other. The cry is weaker this time. Asshole #1 is out, and he’s in agony, but he won’t die.

“Alright,” Levi sighs. He needs to get this over with. He’s wasting precious minutes.

He may be out of time already… But he can’t think about that.

Gabi is strong, more than strong even on her own. But she can’t face up against a thousand evil men.

He ambles over to the second guy, pulls up a chair of his own, and sits, face stony. “The girl. Where is she?”

The guy is narrow-faced, cheeks sunken-in, so much so his face looks more like a skull with tight skin wrapped around it.

“I—What girl? I ain’t heard of no girl!”

He hates to make an pathetic bastard squirm, but he has no choice, and so with an impatient sigh he plunges his knife into flesh. For a second the very air is pained wailing.

“Lie to me one more time,” Levi growls. “Or tell me where, and I’ll make this be easy on both of us.”

The cords in Asshole #2’s neck stand out as his teary light eyes lock on the knife in his leg. His expression twists. “F-Fuck. The girl. Brown hair? Loudmouth?”

Levi lets none of what he’s feeling show on his face. “Do you have a whole bunch of ‘em you keep for safekeeping or something? Don’t waste my time.”

“I-I—”

Levi slowly twists the knife as he asks, “She alive?”

“She has to be. Sh-She’s Theo’s newest pet!”

Black anger floods into him, joining a twist of dread. He wants to be sick… He’ll be concerned about just how much that information makes him want to burn the world down later.

“Where?”

He blubbers. “I can’t I can’t—he’ll kill me.”

“Not if I kill you first.”

Sobs wrack his chest violently now. Tear tracks sticking to his cheeks and snot oozing down his flapping lips. “Please… Stop…”

“Shit. You’re getting distracted. Let me help you with that.” Levi roughly scoops up his face, and twists the knife plunged deep inside in the direction of his knee. The man’s back bows off the chair with another wretched scream.

“Look. Right here. You still got plenty of blood left to bleed, so talk, or I’ll pop your fucking knee off.”

“Aghh!—In the town! The town! In the resort!”

Like that’s helpful in any way. Levi never should’ve gotten shot. Then they wouldn’t be here. He was so fucking careless. Too slow. Too…

Levi pulls a wrinkled map out from his fur coat, and drags the dagger out of the man’s leg like picking up a pen. The flood of deep red is immediate.

He flips the bloody blade backwards and thrusts the handle past the man’s yellow teeth. It wobbles precariously, but it stays in place.

Levi shoves the map in his face. “Point to it. And it better match the spot your friend over there points to.”

“Mmph!” More whimpering. His head bobs, eyes frantically scanning the map.

Quickly he settles on a spot, probing it with the knifepoint, and then drops it.

“There, there! I did it.”

For one long moment, Levi watches him.

“I’m tellin’ the truth, goddammit! Ask him! Go on!”

“Alright.”

From across the room, Levi hears a low moan. Asshole #1 has been nodding in and out of consciousness for a while, which is going to make this move much faster.

It’s one thing to kill Infected—it’s setting those people free of their torment—but men just like himself?—It sickens him. All these years later, it’s never gotten easier.

But he’s gotten used to it. And if he lets these guys live, they’ll either die a slow painful death tied up in this shack, or go running back home to tell their friends that he’s on his way. He can’t risk anything for Gabi.

Levi tugs his pistol from his waistband, cocks it, and shoots Asshole #2 in the head at point-blank range. He dies instantly.

Watching the blood ooze from his hanging forehead, Levi for a moment lets his eyes fall half-lidded, and look as tired as he feels.

Then he shuts it away. Pushes it down deep. He turns and ambles over to the other, who’s screaming, “What the fuck!! Fuck you! He did what you wanted! I’m not tellin’ you shit!”

Levi blinks. “That’s fine. I believe him.”

“You’re craz—”

The gunshot explodes in a burst of sound. After, all is silent.

“Maybe I am,” he hears himself mumble.

He tracks the red spot the man pointed to with his finger from his current location, and abandons the shack with a renewed sense of urgency. He’s going to get Gabi back in one piece. No matter the cost.

[jessicawhitebooks]

You can never get over some things, no matter how hard you try to move on with your life.

Stuck to the corner of my mirror like it was the day I left, the photograph of me and Dom at our last high school dance smiled back at me. For the third time since I came home yesterday, I was in tears over it. Still, I just couldn’t bring myself to put it away.

My hands flapped at my face, and I blew air up into my eyes to dry them as I took one step back to look myself over. “For criminy’s sake, Faith. He’s been gone twenty years. It’s time to let him go.”

Sitting at the edge of the bed I slept in as a child, I bent over to put on my designer open-toed heels I spent half my paycheck on.

I was a different person than the little girl who left this room last time, and the whole world was less terrifying from this grown-up woman’s perspective.

The house I once was so embarrassed by was now a treasure chest of happy memories. Smiling at the tiny crack in the window’s corner, I conjured up the image of Dom climbing through it to hold me until I went to sleep when I was too scared.

There was a time when Dad and I only passed each other in the kitchen when he came home from work and I left for school each morning. But he retired from the old quarry six months ago, so he had a few minutes to make sure I got a cup of coffee to take with me. “Good luck today, Faithy.”

I kissed his cheek and picked my folded-over pink fitted blazer off the back of the chair. “Oh, thanks. But it’s not really an interview or anything.”

After I worked the sleeves over my arms, I pulled my hair free from my collar. “I already signed the contract. This is just a meet and greet.”

He curled his lips under as he dug behind his ear and leaned into the kitchen sink. “Yeah, but...” His hand flipped away as he sighed. “You’re bound to run into some folks you used to know, and I’m sure there’ll be lots of questions.”

I reached for the cup and hooked my purse over my arm. “It’s okay. I’m ready.” Tugging the door open, I spun around to wave at him as I backed outside. “Love you. See you later.”

Walking to my dream car I paid cash for when I sold my business a few weeks ago was cool and all.

But it was nothing close to my excitement when Dad and Dom pulled the tarp off the old one they fixed up for my eighteenth birthday. Glancing back in the rearview mirror at the ghosts in the garage windows, I kissed my fingers. “I hope you’re happy wherever you are, baby.”

As soon as I turned left onto the road into town, I found the playground up on my right and my foot slid off the gas pedal for a moment as I spaced out a bit.

A little girl at the fence waved at me as my car trickled by, and I wiggled my fingers back at her. “Aren’t you a cutie pie?”

I was glad to see someone cut down that old scary tree, leaving only a stump behind for the kids to take turns jumping off of. But even gone, it was still a constant reminder that I’d thrown away the greatest thing that ever happened to me. “What an idiot you are.”

Happy, colorful drawings lined the elementary school windows, and I whimpered as I sped by them. “Your kids would have been close to starting high school by now.”

Though I worked at some of the biggest healthcare facilities in the entire country until last month, preparing myself to step inside this tiny four-floor building had my heart fluttering and my hands freezing like I’d never set foot in a hospital before. “Pull yourself together.”

As I inched along the parking lot, I pulled my standard old lip balm from my bag and swiped it across my bottom lip. “No one will probably even remember you, anyway.”

I dropped the tube back into my bag and pulled into the first spot I came to. “Hardly anyone knew who you were back then.”

Perfumed with blooming jasmine, tiny white petals floated down over me as I walked up the sidewalk.

The glass doors parted for me, and I stopped to straighten my hair in the gift shop window until a man with silver streaks at his temples came into view beside me. “Miss Bennett?”

I peeked over my shoulder and smiled at him as I turned around and held out my hand. “Mister Stryker?”

Immediately grabbing it, he flicked his eyebrow at me and urged me toward the elevators. “It’s great to meet you finally. How was the drive back home?”

Walking down the hall was like flipping through the yearbook on my bookshelf, surprisingly. So when the lightbulbs clicked on my old classmates’ heads, I gave each face a nod or a smile as we passed them. “Very long. So, I’m glad I never have to leave again.”

He leaned over to push the up button. “Are you getting settled in okay?”

We both peeked up at the lights to pass the time as I shrugged back at him. “I should have just paid somebody to unload everything for me, honestly. My back is killing me.”

He waited for me to go inside when the doors opened, pushing the button as he backed in. “Yeah, we have to be careful with that at our age.”

This man was at least ten years older than me, and I cringed at all the money I wasted getting my forehead creases flattened out if he thought we were so close. “I don’t think I asked how long you’ve been here. You’re not local. I would remember.”

He shook his head at the door and sighed as the car came to a stop. “No. The university put me in charge when they took this place over a while back.”

I readjusted my purse strap on my shoulder when we stepped outside again. “Well, it seems like you all made out well in the merger."

The management suite dripped with expensive-looking furniture and freshly painted walls. “The place looks fantastic.”

It seemed that a lot of things were different around here. The diner Carolyn waited tables at in high school was an ice cream shop. And the park at the town square had a water fountain and farm stand with handmade candles I’d like to stop and check out.

Yet when I looked up and came face to face with the ghost of Dominic Vasser smiling at me in the doorway straight ahead, he was almost exactly the same as the night he put that ring on my finger. “Oh, my God.”

[im30letmedoomscroll]

Reflections On Stimming

I am constantly stimming. I have been more or less constantly stimming since the day I came out of my mother's vagina.

I also pick up new stims if I see a person doing them in the wild then I will adopt them. But, I've got some favorites that have carried me through all my years.

I have organized this from bottom to top:

Feet: I am almost consistently wiggling my toes. I prefer to wear sandals for this reason, for better wiggling. Plus, sweaty toes are the worse thing ever. I also rub my feet together like a cricket. If I am sitting in a wooden chair or stool then I will melodically bump my ankle bones against the support poles until those around me BEG me to stop. The soft pain and the sound and the movement come together like a release.

Legs: If I have to not stim while sitting, then I will jiggle my legs. One leg if I'm having a neutral time, both if I am sitting on my hands trying to mask. If I'm having a nice time watching TV and my legs are stretched out then I will also rock them back and forth.

I pace. I pace pathways into apartment carpets. I pace the souls of my shoes off prematurely. I pace in little squares. I change the shape of my legs as I walk in satisfying ways. The pacing is good.

I did not think of myself as a rocker. However, I recently was talking to a witch about a stone and she asked me to make my body like a pendulum to ask the soul of my friend if it was right for her and this witch was beside herself that I continued to gently rock as I entered my prayer space. I asked my wife about the rocking and she said that I only do it sometimes. I am annoyed that my body could do something that I hadn't noticed like that before.

If I have to wear an unpleasant waistband then I might tap my waist to distract myself from the unpleasantness.

In my hands, I like to trace the word "ella" which has been stuck in my head since Spanish class when I was 14. I also do finger tappies, where I use my thumb to tap each finger. I will also tap different parts of my face if I need to focus and the light is too loud or something. Rubbing things with a good texture is amazing, I love ceramic mugs for this. A couple years ago, my wife started buying me fidget toys. Sure that I would love them and that they would be helpful. She was right.

I pick - mostly at my hands until I bleed. I peel layers of skin off. This is something I've gone to great lengths to control. I also scratch until I cause injury if I don't stop myself. I think that I stim as self-harm when I am not listening to my body, usually pre-meltdown.

When I was a sophomore in HS, I saw my friend flap her hands and I knew I was a hand flapper. I was surprised by how autistic it made her look and so I committed to not flapping my hands, this is something I only do if I've lost my center. To be clear, I hadn't been diagnosed as autistic and she had, I absolutely had internalized ableism going on.

If something is particularly unholy to my nervous system, then I will recoil. My shoulders conduct a sort of wave or full body shiver.

I also stim with sounds and words that are enticing. I repeat them over and over and over. I wrap my mouth around them and scrunch them through the space between the neurons of my brain. I sing them. I hold my breath for the space of the sound and let it out in ways that sound interesting.

If I am at home and my bra's too tight and I've had to wear jeans for too long (I hate jeans) and my hair is pulling too tight and I need to brush my teeth and the light is too loud and the sound is too bright then I will run around while I fix it and let out a satisfying "AHHHHHHHH".

I count. Usually to 10, Sometimes until my brain thinks of a problem to solve or an argument to have.

Honestly, there are more. Stimming for me is a constant activity during my waking hours, I have tried for many years to control my stimming. I can redirect it, if I need to, into another stim but this requires I direct part of my brain energy into redirection which creates the drive to add a 2nd stim. But I can only hold off on stimming for as long as I can hold in my brain the idea that I need to stop the stimming from happening. This is a deeply boring thought that I do not hold for long.

I stim for joy, for self-regulation, to help me focus - like helping bring my thoughts in line or centering my insides. If I need to solve a problem then I stim because it helps to focus my energy in a particular direction. If I am watching a new tv show then I will shake both my legs and do finger tappies to help process the show; if I like the show then I will remember absurd details and dissect ridiculous plot holes and beg questions that nobody thought of. My stimming focuses my attention, but it also is how I process other feelings like joy and surprise.

It's part of my makeup, and for a very-very long time, I thought it was something wrong with me that I had to desperately control. If I ever get to sit in front of a person who could diagnose me as autistic, and they find that I have a makeup that follows patterns similar to the autistic community this is something that I will always be grateful for learning to accept about myself from my autistic friends.

[bookofmormonmemes]

wassup yall it’s been forevys but im officially halfway through this abish book here’s some pros and cons

cons:

battle with exclamation points continues, now a new contender has entered the fight: ellipses. these are luxury resources and kc grant is ruining the economy

the most sudden unearned underwhelming unsatisfactory kiss scene ive ever read. we love our androgynous blacksmith babe but they kissed just in the middle of a paragraph completely out of nowhere with no dramatic tension or buildup at all and im upset

her dad’s Conversion Vision also feels pretty out-of-nowhere and also way too neat & tidy? he just comes in like “I had a dream that there’s only one God and everything we’ve ever been taught is wrong, come on let’s go change our entire lives” and abi’s like “ok lit.” we stan a ride-or-die daughter but cmon, gimme some CONFLICT, some INTERNAL CRISIS OF FAITH. I WANT A GODLY WRESTLE!!

it’s racist. the racism is dressed up pretty but it’s there and it sucks. the nephites are white which is automatically a loss but madam grant consistently portrays that whiteness as not only more civilized and righteous but also more attractive??? abi’s living with this nephite family and this one boy walks by with blonde hair and green eyes and she’s like “these nephites were like the colors of the rainbow...such variety...” and it’s. it’s gross.

androgynous blacksmith babe is Lost At Sea. i know from reading the summary of the sequel book that he survives and they get married but for now I Miss Him.......

what is the plot. where is the plot. when is the plot. there’s so many random things happening and she’s ending up so many different places, i have no idea how or when she’s possibly gonna end up where she’s sposed to be. tally marks of “days without my queen” stretch across the wall. ammon has yet to be introduced. where are my children. what is happening. how can i go on

pros:

HER

HER

S H E E E E

she is how i can go on

at one point she goes to help gardening and when asked what she’s doing she replies “i am sitting in the dirt”

the moment she’s free from Societal Expectations she goes right to climbing trees and killing random peccarys in the wild

apparently lots of research was done on the flora and fauna and geology of this place! enough to have detailed beautiful descriptions of different flowers and rocks but not enough to know quetzals are green

OH YEAH SHE GETS A COOL SCAR ACROSS HER FACE, SHE ALMOST GETS ASSAULTED BUT THEN ABB (ANDROGYNOUS BLACKSMITH BABE) CONKS THE CHUMP OVER THE HEAD WITH A ROCK AND ABISH JUST ENDS UP WITH THIS WICKED EPIC KNIFE SCAR

afterwards they’re fleeing town and so decide to cut her hair and start new lives and!!!! aaaaahhh!!! 

abish: with this puckered scar from brow to cheekbone and this hastily knife-shortened hair, i must look horrid, at least jared sees past that and loves me anyway

me, a lesbian, imagining her, remembering that she was described as also taller than everyone, thinking about her, THINKING ABOUT HER: 

the nephite fam shes livin with is basically just parents & three toddlers and theyyyyyy’re cute

baby brother picks up an iguana and wants to keep it, dad is like No but abish is like Maybe...the lizard saga continues

there was a fun sweet sailor man whom i love, who tries to make small talk in the middle of a storm. just yelling “HEY YALL GOT FAMILY BACK HOME?” over the wind while bailing water off the deck. iconic

at another point some nephites harass her for being Different and she completely destroys them. goes in wrestling and “actually abish did most of the fighting; the boy just lay there in disbelief. it was only after two of the other boys joined in that abish felt her abilities being tested.” HER POWER!!!!

after this she feels all guilty and wants to go apologize but literally everyone else is on her side. like nah those creeps deserved it. good on ya for whoopin them

and when i say everybody? i mean EVERYBODY. A Proclamation Comes From King Mosiah. THE KING. saying “hey heard yall were being racist. cut it out. losers.”

the proclamation itself reads exactly like a modern bishop newsletter but in context it’s like, THE KING??? THE KING. imagine if you got in a fight with your school rival and then a nationwide statement comes out cosigned by russell m nelson and barack obama telling literally everyone that you were in the wrong here

she’s iconic

and finally. every page i turn is a page closer to ammon and the queen. hopefully. we’re halfway there folks. give me strength.

[hotched]

Spider-Man Lunchbox

Requested by @ssamorganhotchner - bringing Aaron lunch to work

Masterlist for Small Moments Series

Word Count: 779

Warnings: tickling?

A/N: I love the idea but not sure I like the ending. Oh well… something new!!! Who is she?! I typed this up instead of working on my WIPs because I was bored and can’t get into any of them. Oops 🤷🏽‍♀️ ENJOY!

Gif credit goes to @fatherhotchner <3

No new cases as of yet, just paperwork. Should be home by 6.

That’s what the text has said, and you hoped that hadn’t changed within the last hour as you loaded Jack and his favorite Spider-Man lunch box into the car. Since it was spring break, Jack was home from school and you had the day off so you decided to make the most of it. Your original plan was lunch in the park but when texting your fiancé about dinner plans and his availability, you made the split second decision to surprise him with lunch. Jack was on board right away as long as we could pack lunch into his favorite lunch box to show off to all of daddy’s friends.

The butterflies built in your stomach as you unloaded and made your way into the elevator after getting visitor passes. It was amazing that after two years you still got that fluttery feeling every time you saw him.

Jack was swinging your joined hands as he bounced along with the pinging noises notifying the occupants of the changing floors. You had made it all the way up without stopping so as soon as the doors opened to the BAU, Jack’s tiny body was dragging you out towards the bullpen. You let out a loud giggle at the strength of his grip and willingly followed him through the somewhat intimidating glass doors.

The floor was quiet and mostly empty, though a peak towards the right side of the room showed the team minus Aaron in the conference room eating lunch. Your heart clenched as you watched them laughing and glanced towards Aaron’s office to see him alone. After one last glance towards the team, you and Jack made your way to Aaron’s office where you knocked on the doorway as Jack took off in a run.

“Daddy” he yelled, the lunchbox flapping against his side as he raced behind the desk. He kept his grip as Aaron pushed away from his paperwork in time to catch his son. You leaned against the door with a smile as you watched the pair; Aaron closing his eyes and tightening his hold on the young boy as he tried to nudge the lunchbox away from where it dug into his neck.

After a moment, Aaron’s tired eyes lifted from Jack to meet your wistful gaze.

“Sweetheart” he greeted, lifting the boy as he moved from the chair towards you. With a smile, you pushed yourself off the doorway and met him halfway, wrapping your arms around your two favorite boys. His grin melted into yours as he gave you a quick kiss.

“Eww” Jack grumbled, burying his head into Aaron's neck as you broke apart. Aaron’s eyes sparkled with mirth as your noses brushed together. You moved your arms from around Aaron to tickle Jack as his father held him to your mercy. His high pitched laughter turned into huffs as he tried to catch his breath once you pulled away.

“We brought lunch” you stated, pointing towards Jack’s lunch box that had been dropped by his desk in the mayhem. The reminder made Jack jump and wiggle out of his fathers arms, bouncing towards his new obsession.

“And we brought it in my Spider-Man box” he gushed, grabbing the object and pushing it towards Aaron.

His father nodded along attentively as he started talking about making the sandwiches and fruit salad this morning. The pair had moved to sit on the couch at the other end of the office as you watched on with a smile.

As Jack started to unload the lunchbox, Aaron held out a hand and pulled you into his side with a kiss to your cheek. You grinned back at him before kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs up under you as you snuggled up into Aaron’s side. His hand settled onto your knee after handing you a sandwich and the three of you dug in. Every once and a while Aaron would glance over at you when Jack went on a tangent that didn’t require his direct attention. The warmth in his eyes made your heart race as he squeezed your knee. You mouthed “I love you” as you brought his hand up to your lips and left a gentle kiss on his knuckles. His responding grin was commercial worthy and you hid your face in his shoulder as your cheeks heated up. Jack claimed his attention again but you remained curled into Aaron’s side, drifting as you listened to your boys discussing superheroes, magic, and the FBI using webbing as a weapon to catch the bad guys.

Best day off ever.

[myckicade]

Prompt: Which totally begs the question, does Taza get jealous? What would that look like?

A/N: I just want to say… Thank You. I love Taza, I really do. If they wanted to add him to the show, a bit more (*cough*hint*cough*), I certainly wouldn’t complain.

That said, this was enjoyable to put together. I like the challenge that comes with each different personality.

Jealousy Thursday continues! The fuse was lit with Bishop. Now, let’s fan the flames with Taza!

Title: Unbecoming

Teaser: This is why you should never make dinner reservations.

Tapping your foot against the side of the bar, you steal a look at your watch. A quarter passed six. As opposed to the last time you looked, at eleven minutes passed.

See, this… This is why you should never make dinner reservations.

Something came up. Something always comes up. You’re doing your best to understand that, really, you are. You know what you signed on for, after all. And, it did seem like it was a surprise need to call everyone together, just as you’d been ready to head out.

“I’ve gotta’ steal him from you, for a minute,” Bishop had apologized, with a sincere enough smile. “Fifteen minutes, tops. Have a drink, while you wait. On the house.”

Fifteen minutes… Bishop’s fifteen minutes sure as hell feels a lot like an hour and twenty. (And, yes, you’re still counting). You’d be on your second or third beer, by now, if you didn’t have the presence of mind to know that, duh, you’re driving to the restaurant, tonight. Well, maybe. You’ve already pushed that reservation back, once. After a second time… You might as well just cancel.

A loud ruckus behind you startles you from your thoughts. Glancing over your shoulder, you take in the sight of a selection of Mayans gathered around a table. They’d exited the back room, about fifteen minutes prior, and you were disappointed that Che wasn’t with them. Still are. He and Bishop are still back there, flapping their gums about who knows what. You don’t know, and you don’t ask.

You just… wait.

Anyway, at least you have the noise of the other guys to listen to. From where you sit, it looks as though someone has grown a little over-excited, and tipped a beer over. Right onto Angel. The man has stood to his feet, an irritated look on his face, as he pulls the front of his shirt away from his skin.

“The fuck?!” he bellows, looking to his brother, beside him. “I just opened that beer, bro!”

EZ has a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. “Sorry, man.”

You roll your eyes. You don’t know Angel, all that well, but… If there is anyone destined to be pissed off over a spilled beer, he seems the type. A nice kid, with a big gap between his ears, granted. But, still, a nice kid. Said nice kid is presently yanking off his kutte, draping it over the back of his chair. His shirt comes next, peeled over his abdomen like a fucking GQ model. Would it be overkill to roll your eyes again, you wonder? He’s not a bad-looking guy, no, and his abs certainly are a thing of beauty. (How that’s possible, you can’t fathom, for how much you’ve seen him drink). But, that’s really about it. He’s not your type.

Your type is going to owe you, so big, for missing this dinner date.

You’re about to turn away from the lean, mean, beer-guzzling machine, when something catches your eye. Well, hello. It’s fucking beautiful. Big, but not too showy. Solid, thick. Impossible to miss, and it makes a statement. You haven’t seen that on him, before now. Where has he been hiding it?

Oh, get it out of the gutter. You’re totally staring at Angel’s belt buckle.

It’s a nice buckle. It looks to be some sort of tribal design, worked into the metal with what must have been a sure hand. You really have to go ask him where he got it. You’ve been to every shop for four towns, and no one has anything close to the quality of what he’s wearing. While that design isn’t what you have been looking for, if it’s custom? You’ll pay a pretty penny to get what you want made.

The buckle comes closer, and you can see more detail. What you took for a tribal design reveals itself to be a serpent, of some sort, possibly a dragon. The work is so fine, even the scales are visible.

“See somethin’ you like?”

You jerk your head up, to stare, wide-eyed, right into Angel’s expression of amusement. Apparently, two and two equal five, and you didn’t compute that the buckle coming closer meant that Angel was coming with it. (Heaven, help you). He’s still shirtless, having put his kutte back onto his bare back. And, oh, hell. He must think you were staring at his abs.

You’d hate to have to tell him, his jewelry is more impressive.

Instead, you give him a smile. “Actually… Yes, I do.” This time, his eyes widen, eyebrows going for his hair line. “I really want to know where…” You circle a finger in the air, a few times, slow and lazy, before tapping it against that serpent. “…-You got this little beauty.” Angel looks down, and, fuck, he looks like he could choke. Flustered, and, is that a blush? It’s hysterical, it truly is. Did he really think you wanted a piece of him? Really?

Apparently, you had him going, as he has to look away, and clear his throat. He looks to the girl behind the bar, and nods. “Can I get another beer?” She makes haste, sliding a fresh bottle across the bar top, in the blink of an eye. No wonder this guy has a head as big as all outdoors. These broads just fall all over him, don’t they? Angel lifts the bottle toward his mouth, pausing to give you a fleeting side glance. “Got it across the border.”

“Mexico?” you ask, quite needlessly. You really haven’t thought to check, there. But, then, again… You don’t exactly have occasion to country-hop, very often. “Damn. That’s where all the good stuff hides.”

Angel nods, as he swallows his mouthful of liquid. “No offense,” he begins, tone highly suggestive that he knows he’s going to offend you, regardless. “But, you don’t seem like the belt buckle type.” He turns to face you, leaning to rest his elbow on the bar top. Casual as can be, which is hysterical, when you recall how pink his face had been, just a moment before. “So, was that actually a come-on, or what?”

The balls on this kid. You scoff a laugh. “No offense,” you mimic, tone suggesting more than just offense. You may just straight-up hurt his feelings. “But, you just don’t seem like my type.”

He smirks, and shakes his head. “See, I’m everybody’s type.” At least he took it well, you figure. Angel takes another swig from his bottle, before setting it on the bar. His eyes haven’t left you, all the while, but they are beginning to narrow. “So, if you ain’t tryina’ pick me up… Why the fascination with my wardrobe?”

Or, the lack, thereof. You toss that thought aside, and put on a pleasant smile. “Che has a birthday coming up. I want to get him a buckle, but it’s been a bitch. I’ve been to every shop in the area, and then some... Nada.” You lift your own beer to your lips, and take a sip.

“Yeah, the one guy in town who did ‘em right… I dunno’. He died, or got deported, or somethin’.”

Well. You haven’t choked on a drink, in a while. This is refreshing.

Angel’s eyes widen, again. “You gonna’ make it, or what?” A couple of coughs get you through, and you soon remember how to breathe. You nod, by way of response, pointedly ignoring Angel’s snicker. “Well, if you don’t kill yourself on that shit…” He shrugs. “You tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll check the shop, next time I’m down. Send you some pictures, if you want?”

Oh. Oh, well. “That’d be very nice of you.” You suddenly feel a little bad for all the rotten thoughts you’ve had about him. Just a little. Reaching into your pocket, you produce your business card, and hand it over to Angel. “Thank you.”

The grin that covers his face… Well, there’s no mistaking that he and EZ are related. “I’m a nice guy,” he preens, pocketing your card. “Just ask anybody.”

“Funny,” comes a voice from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you come face-to-face with Bishop. “I tend to think you’re a bit of a pussy.” Angel rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond. Must just be good-natured ribbing. Bishop turns a smile on you, next. “Sorry to have kept him for so long.” He’s not, and you know it. Business is business, according to Che. It takes as long as it takes.

“It’s all right,” you reply, returning the smile. “I had decent company.” You eye Angel, who wiggles his fingers in a cutie-pie wave. How ridiculous. You look over Bishop’s shoulder, next. “Where is the old man?”

Bishop chuckles. “Little boy’s room.” You smirk. “Should be right out.”

“Thank you, Bishop.”

“Hey, no problem, (y/n).” Bishop pats you on the shoulder, before collecting a beer from the bartender, one he didn’t even have to ask for. You know his status around here, but it still amazes you, somewhat, to see it in action. “You and Taza have a good night, huh?” You nod, and he heads for the table of Mayans across the room.

Beside you, Angel is back to grinning. “Big night, tonight?”

You don’t even get the chance to respond, before Che is slipping up behind you. “Probably not anymore,” he sighs, looking from Angel, to you. He grimaces. “I’m sorry, (y/n). Think we can still make it?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “I have a better idea.” Standing from your chair, you face the man you’ve been waiting a long, long time for. And, you don’t just mean the last few hours.

“Oh?” Che sounds intrigued. It’s a good sign.

“I’ve got a frozen pizza, and a half gallon of ice cream back at my place.”

He purses his lips, for a second. “…-What flavour?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s so damned adorable. “Black raspberry.” He inhales, deeply, and you know you have him. “How about it? The game is coming on, too. It’ll be a perfect Thursday night.”

Che laughs, quietly. “Throw in a beer? You’ve got a deal.”

“We’ll stop at the store, on the way home.” You’re practically beaming, all frustration at missing your reservation forgotten. It amazes you, sometimes, that Che has the power to do that, just by existing. You grab your jacket, and look back over your shoulder. “Thank you for your company, Angel.”

He lifts his beer bottle to you, in salute. “Likewise. I’ll be in touch.” He pushes off the bar, and heads back to the table. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Angel,” Che chimes in, before sliding his arm around you. He sounds tired, his arm sitting a little heavy over your shoulders. “You ready?”

“Beyond,” you agree, and start for the door.

*

There are three slices of pizza left of the table, in front of you. The game is in the third quarter, and there’s a third Panther injured, and sitting on the sidelines. Taza is on his third beer, and the dog between you, on the couch, is serving as your third wheel.

Taza isn’t big on coincidences, nor does he lean toward superstition. But, the number three is weighing on his mind.

Neither of you really has a stake in this game. The score is average, the commentators are pretty typical, and you can’t seem to understand how Houston is losing, when Carolina lost Christian McCaffery to a hamstring injury, in the first half. You’ve grumbled about it, at least a dozen times. They’re doing their best, is the best answer Taza can come up with. It nearly spring-boarded off his tongue, before he could stop it. It would be a dead giveaway, that his focus is somewhere else. And, he’s trying, he really is. Pizza, drinks, football. It’s a very, very normal night.

Except that, no, no, it really isn’t.

Now, it can be said that Taza is a lot of things. Peaceable, where possible, sure. He’s getting too old for fist-fights, every other day. Intuitive, absolutely. He probably wouldn’t be V.P., otherwise. The position wasn’t designed for a complete dumbass. And, for everything that Taza is, there are plenty of things that he isn’t.

Stupid.

Irrational.

Young.

All right, that last one’s probably just vanity talking. (Never much took himself for a victim of that one, either). It doesn’t make it any less true. He’s holding up all right, he supposes. He can still ride, and hold his weapon straight. He has his hair, and his sight. All of his teeth. Sure, he gets up in the middle of the night, these days, the need to piss so bad he’s frequently sworn off all liquids, after noon. He doesn’t have the stamina he once had, loathe though he is to admit it, but it’s not as if he has a lot of trouble in the bedroom. Once in a while, things may not go… according to plan, but you haven’t complained. You might ask, “You doing all right?”, more often than he appreciates, at times, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

Well. That was a peppy little inventory of his face-first slide into old age.

Really, all-in-all, things are going pretty well. The two of you mesh in an interesting way, given the generation gap. You don’t treat him like a geriatric, or as your elder. You understand a lot of his outdated references, far more than he has ever encountered in anyone of… any age, honestly. Life, philosophy, it’s like… It’s like talking to himself, sometimes, when he talks to you. You just get it. It’s beautiful, and amazing, and he can’t believe that, out of all the billions of people on this planet, he found you. Moreover, that you want to be with him.

This is probably why he can’t get the scene at the clubhouse bar out of his head.

He wants to ask what you and Angel were talking about. He wants to know, so fucking badly. You’d been staring at Angel – a very shirtless Angel – when Taza stepped into the room. And, that stare was intent. Focused. You’d established, very early in your relationship, that looking will always be a forgivable offense. Appreciation of another being doesn’t jeopardize your love for one another. But… You’d touched. Your fingers were on Angel’s belt. The kid was in his smoothest stance, beside you. “I’ll be in touch.”

He wants to ask, but he can’t. Jealousy isn’t very becoming.

Angel is a nice kid, Taza supposes, all things considered. A bit of a man whore, maybe. Definitely a walking ad for penicillin. The ladies – and, plenty of the guys – love the hell out of him. A few tacos short of a combination plate, but a real talker. Fun-loving, and energetic.

Little bastard is probably a fucking three.

Heaving a sigh, Taza settles more heavily into the couch. It’s a comfortable sectional, and – embarrassing, though it is – he’s more than just a little bit in love with your chaise lounge. You have the best taste in furniture of anyone he’s ever encountered. Truthfully, you have the best taste in everything. Music, food, décor. And, according to you, your taste in men is absolutely impeccable. Your words, not his. He tries to draw on that, as something close to comfort.

It’s not that he’s suspicious, not really. Not really. In the entire run of your relationship, he’s seen you deep in conversation with other Club members half a dozen times, at best. Twice, you’ve given Coco advice on feminine needs for his daughter. Creeper has asked for details about your car, trying to decide whether it is worth buying his old lady one like it. Another conversation had been with Hank, the two of you tuning out the rest of the room, while he gave you tips on where to buy the best treats for Flint.

Smiling, Taza reaches down to pet the mentioned pooch’s head, where it rests on his thigh. He knows his visitor is bothered, not having left his side, all night.

Bothered. That’s one way to put it. And, quite frankly, Taza feels like an old fool. You’ve been entirely honest about your preferences, that you have zero interest in men your age, and younger. That they’re all ‘overgrown children’, and ‘don’t have their shit together’. But, according to you, the worst part is that they don’t understand you. You operate on different levels.

You and Taza operate on the same level. He understands you. And, you tell him, all the time, that you find his age to be a turn-on. You’re forever leaving him in a silent fluster, telling him he’s gorgeous, and sexy. That he’s the only man that’s ever made you feel so good. So whole. You don’t care that he’s set in his ways, because it doesn’t stop you from trying to urge him into trying new things. You don’t care that you sometimes wear him out after a single round, telling him that sleep is ‘a beautiful thing’. You don’t care that he doesn’t sport a perfect six-pack, unless he’s carrying a six-ring of your favourite beer. You still make him feel desirable. You make him feel young, and worthy of the love and attention you bestow upon him.

You’re amazing. Everything he never thought he’d find in another soul, ever again.

“Well, that sucks,” you complain, pulling Taza’s wandering attentions back to the television. He’s been so absorbed in his own worries, he’s missed the entire fourth quarter. At least he’d called the win, in Carolina’s favour. “So, whaddaya’ say, old man? Ice cream, and SVP?”

Taza looks at you, for a moment. A long moment, really taking you in. Your smile is so soft, teetering on tired. Your hair is tussled, probably from a rough finish on that game. (Hey, nobody told you to root for Houston, tonight). Yes, you’re amazing. You’re beautiful, and you’re perfect, and you don’t need to tell him what you and Angel were chatting over. He just needs to trust in you, and in the security of your relationship.

“Sounds good to me, (y/n).” You lean over, careful of Flint, and press a gentle kiss to Taza’s lips, before getting off of the couch. Taza watches you walk away, before closing his eyes, and taking in a deep breath. He holds it for a second, then slowly lets it out through his mouth.

No, jealousy is not very becoming, at all. Thankfully, it has no place, here and now. After all, he’s the one on your couch, cuddled up with your dog. He’s the one who gets to enjoy your company. And, come Hell or high water, he’s the one you’ll wake up with, tomorrow morning.

*

For the record, Taza loves the belt buckle you gift him for his birthday. The metal has been worked to include four incredibly detailed feathers, adorned with three turquoise stones, and an ethically-recovered bear claw. He seems to like that part the best.

And, by the time you tell him that Angel helped make it possible, he’s forgotten all about his insecurities. All he remembers of that night is how the ice cream melted on the counter, after he followed you to the kitchen, lifted you into his arms, and carried you to the bedroom. He’d had the strangest urge to show you how sorry he was for ruining your night out.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[thunder-at-dawn]

October 5th

word count: 1,801

prompt: cuddles

summary: sapnap can’t find a single blanket or pillow anywhere in the house. when he finds the thief, a small punishment comes to mind.

i became very switch for quackity while writing this LMAO

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Sapnap had gone through a very simple day. He mainly stayed at home, and his two fiancés did the same. So if he had barely done anything, then why was he so tired?

He really couldn’t explain it to you if he wanted to. It was as if any energy he had was just… drained from him. So when he went into the shared bedroom, he fell onto the bed like a skydiver, his arms spread out as he fell onto the soft surface of the mattress.

He turned around in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Karl and Quackity were elsewhere in the house, and he was alone. As much as he loved sleeping in bed with them, he needed some alone time. There was only one small problem, and he was too tired to realize it at first.

Where was the blanket?

Laying upon the bed, Sapnap realized there was no blanket on it. He got up and looked around, it hadn’t fallen onto the floor. So next, he checked the closet where all of the blankets were kept. Not a single one was there. And all of the pillows were missing, too!

“…What?” Sapnap mumbled, extremely confused.

He walked around the area, checking every room. Every blanket and pillow in there previously was gone. Where the hell were they? He had not a single clue. It wasn’t until he stepped in the living room where he found the source of where they all were… and who the culprit was.

“Hi, Sapnap!”

“…Hi, Karl.”

Turns out, Karl was a blanket thief. Well, Sapnap already knew that he would sometimes hog the blanket in bed at night, but he had stolen every blanket, every pillow, and a few chairs to make a humongous blanket fort in the middle of the living room.

“Do you like my fort?” Karl asked, beaming with happiness.

“Um… yeah. It’s nice.” Sapnap nodded, letting out a yawn. “I, uh, kinda need a blanket though. I’m about to go to bed.”

“You’re going to bed?” He looked up, stepping out of the fort. “What? No. If you’re going to sleep, you have to do it in the best way possible. And that is inside of a blanket fort!” Karl grabbed Sapnap’s hand, leading him inside. The area was nice and cozy, and Sapnap found himself instantly relaxing, laying down on the floor of blankets.

“How long did it take for you to set this up?” He asked.

“A while.” Karl chuckled. “The blankets kept falling off of the chairs, and I got trapped under them a couple of times.” He watched Sapnap laying down, and how his eyes were struggling to stay open.

“You just came in here, are you really that tired?” He asked. Sapnap nodded, and he smiled softly. If his fiancé was going to fall asleep here, he would make sure it was a good rest that he was about to have. He started moving things around, putting a pillow under his head, and pulling a blanket over the two of them. Sapnap smiled as his lover took care of him, and the two of them smiled as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“C’mere.” Sapnap said lazily, pulling Karl towards him and wrapping his arms around his waist. He held him close, the warmth of their body’s accompanying each other. His steady breathing trailed along the side of Karl’s neck as he adjusted himself. However, he was soon distracted by sudden twitching from Karl.

Karl turned to Sapnap, seeing a mischievous glint in his eye. Both of them knew what his next move was going to be, and Karl started to giggle nervously. “Sahap- noHOho- dohon’t!”

Feeling fingers start to wiggle along his sides, Karl squirmed in Sapnap’s grasp. Even though he was tired, Sapnap still held a firm grip on him, it was quite surprising. His touches were light and soft, and it was driving Karl mad.

“You’re so cute.” Sapnap leaned over, breathing the words of affection into his neck. Karl scrunched his shoulders up, currently in a giggling frenzy.

“Nohoho- wahAhait!” Karl snickered.

“No, you’re not cute? Well, that’s a lie! And it looks like I’ll have to let you know how truthful it is.” Sapnap chuckled, speeding up the movements of his fingers along Karl’s sides. The time traveler squealed, squirming around more, and then calling out two dreaded words.

“QuahaHACKihity! Hehelp!!”

Oh shit.

Aggressive flapping could be heard down the hall, getting louder by the second. To keep him firm, Sapnap hugged his fiancé tighter, wiggling fingers digging into his sides. The other squeaked, kicking his legs as he laughed softly. Suddenly, a third lover entered the fort.

“Karl?! I heard you call, what’s going on?” Quackity asked, looking down.

“Hehe hahas mehe trAHApped!” Karl giggled as the newcomer surveyed the scene.

“Oh, come on. He was being cute.” Sapnap insisted, watching as Quackity’s lips formed into a smirk.

“Aww, Sapnap, how could you? You’re making our beautiful fiancé laugh, and you didn’t invite me?!” He chuckled, noticing Karl’s panicked expression.

“Awww, what’s wrong, mi amor? Are you just a little bit too ticklish, by chance?” The duck hybrid asked, sitting down and lightly scratching at his bare stomach, which was exposed from his hoodie being pushed up in his struggle. Karl squealed, covering his now red face.

“DOHON’T! Dohon’t saHAY thaHAT!” He instructed with a muffled voice.

“Don’t say what? Tickle? Well, I don’t see what’s wrong with it!” Said Quackity, scratching Karl’s stomach ever so lightly. “Tickle, tickle, tickle! Tickle, Tickle, Tickle~!”

“I CAHAhan’t! GuhuHUYS!!”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Sapnap decided, smiling as Karl still giggled from feeling Sapnap’s breath on his neck. As the surprise attack ceased, he let go, and Karl curled up into a ball, still giggling.

“Eres tan adorable, mi amor.” Quackity whispered, slowly running a hand through his hair. Karl soon sat up, smiling at the two of them.

“You really think that?” Karl asked. He and Sapnap had picked up some Spanish from being with Quackity, and he was able to figure out that he just called him “so adorable.”

“Of course!” Quackity lightly caressed his cheek, holding his hand underneath Karl’s chin. Karl leaned forward, smiling softly.

And that’s when round two began.

That’s when Quackity felt Karl’s hands dig into his armpits and start to scribble furiously.

“FuhuHUHUHAHA- SHIHIHIT!” Quackity screamed, his duck wings flapping violently.

“Revenge!” Karl giggled sweetly, taking his eye off momentarily to look at Sapnap. “Come on, help me out!”

After a moment of consideration, Sapnap sat up, moving towards the other two. Quackity shook his head as he noticed him approaching.

“BaHAHACK OHOFF!” He warned, yelping when Sapnap placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Why should I?” He whispered, his breath dancing across Quackity’s neck, just as he had done with Karl earlier. The gambler grabbed his beanie, pulling it down to hide his face. The other two used this to their advantage, Karl pushing Quackity to the cushioned floor. He took his hands out from under his arms, and Quackity was more relaxed.

That is, until he felt hands spreading his wings out.

“W-WAIT! Nononononononoooo…” The avian shook his head back and forth, and his lovers knew that his face was only getting more red from underneath the hoodie.

“Oh, come on. Gotta get that cute laughter out of you somehow.” Sapnap chuckled, firmly pinning Quackity’s arms above his head. Once he was held firm, Karl started to slowwwly scratch at the surface of his wings. Quackity screamed, kicking his legs and wiggling back and forth.

“NAHAHAHAHAAA! WAI- WAHAHIT!” He snickered, squirming as much as he could.

“Aww, there we go.” Sapnap breathed softly on his neck, watching him giggle like a child and scrunch up his shoulders.

“GUHUYS, PLEHEHEAHASE!!” He pleaded, laughing as Karl picked up the pace a little bit. After an extra bit of kicking and screaming, he slowed down, and Sapnap pulled the hat off from his face.

“Awww, your face is red! Look at how cute you are!” Karl beamed, leaning down and planting kisses on Quackity’s neck. Giggles fell out of his lips, and he sat up once Karl finished.

“Ahalright, alright. Your turn, Sapnap!” Quackity grinned, tackling him into a pile of pillows and digging fingers into his ribs. Sapnap had no time to react, and attempted to grab at his hands while chuckling softly.

“Noho- cohome ohon!” He threw his head back, attempting to push him off.

“What?! You’re the only one who hasn’t been tickled out of the three of us!” He giggled, moving his hands up and down. Karl came over as well, lightly tracing fingers along his stomach.

“KaHAHarl!” He squeaked, moving a hand to push at Karl now.

“Hi, Sapnap!” The time traveler giggled, starting to scratch now. His chuckles quickly turned into laughter, he squirmed around, trying to fight them off.

“Yohou’re bohoth ahasshoHOHOHOHAHA- SHIHIT!! KAHARL!!” Sapnap felt a raspberry ripple through his stomach, the fabric of his shirt enhancing the sensation.

“And you always brag about being the least ticklish out of the three of us…” Karl rolled his eyes, planting smaller raspberries and assorted kisses along his stomach.

“YohOHOu’re bohohOTH wohorse!” He insisted, hiccuping through his laughs, and then snorting.

“Did he just snort?!” Quackity grinned in astonishment, looking between the other two fiancés. “I’ve never heard him do that before!”

“Oh yeah, the stomach is a total snort spot!” Karl nodded, watching as Quackity grinned evilly.

“Right here?” He asked, sliding his hand under Sapnap’s shirt and clawing at his tummy.

“DuhuHUDE- DOHON’T!” He snorted again, weakly batting at his hand.

“How come I never knew this before? Were you hiding this spot from me?!” Quackity asked, now clawing with both hands. Sapnap squealed, hugging himself across the chest and accepting his giggly fate. Eventually, the two of them stopped, laying down next to Sapnap on each side.

“You’re so adorable. Both of you.” Karl grinned, adjusting the pillow that he was now resting his head on.

“Even if you’re mischievous as hell.” Sapnap chuckled.

“Me? Mischievous? You’re the one who started this!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so ticklish then!”

“I’m not that baHAD- Hehey! Dohon’t pohoke me!”

“I’m just proving my point heHERE- Quahackity!”

“What? I’m not doing ahANYthihing!”

The banter continued, and the three of them poked at each other, and snuck in a couple more tickly attacks, until the three of them were reduced into a giggly pile of soft laughter. The comfort of the fort brought ease to the three, as well as the warmth of the blankets, and their bodies. The laughter and chatter reduced down slowly, to the point of silence, when all of them had fallen asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms with smiles on their faces.

[hellcaster901]

Never Been Better

The Mandalorian x Reader

Second part to What Now?

Summary: It’s an unspoken tension between the two of you after what happened on the Razor Crest. 

Word Count: 8,454

Warning(s): SMUT!! (Again, please be safe, wrap it before you tap it, this is (again) just a fanfiction), some language, the usual smut (cream pie, oral-male receiving). Did some edits, but again, if you find something just act like you didnt see it.

A/N: I can’t stop thinking about this man, Pedro Pascal has my heart and so does the Mandalorian. I want to give a shout out to my best friend @13dead-ends​ we’ve been on the phone for hours for the past couple nights just writing and figuring things out. She is a new author to tumblr so please go get her a follow and I promise you she’s coming out with wonderful (and smutty) works! I hope you guys enjoy the second part to ‘What Now?’!!!!

Masterlist

What Now? (Pt 1) Say Something (Pt 3)

“Are you sure it’s okay to be here?” You hum, watching as Mando lowered the ship onto the planet, the land becoming bigger as he grew closer to the land. 

“Its outer rim. Aprliria doesn’t exactly hold a lot of criminals.” 

With a slight jolt, Mando landed the ship, your eyes staring at the vast land of green grass and tall trees. For a while now, it’s been jumping from planet to planet looking for the Child’s kind, but with each planet, it left us more and more confused about if we were even on the right track. There was hardly anyone who knew what kind of creature the Child was, much less knew what planet would hold such a creature. Even if you knew where this planet was, you weren’t too sure Mando would even go. He’s grown fond of the child, the child himself looking at Mando as it’s father. The two of them had a bond that nothing could break, the Child was a part of Mando’s life, and leaving him was something the Mandalorian wasn’t sure he could do. 

You watched silently as Mando’s hands glided along the dashboard, landing the ship perfectly. The Child watched with wide eyes from his crib as he waited for the next movement. 

“Sweet thing.” You smiled, reaching for the greenling. He cooed at you as you picked him up, standing from the seat and resting the Child on your hip. “Are you ready to look around?” You whispered to him. He only let out a small squeal, answering your question. You only giggled, watching out of the corner of your eye as Mando turned in his chair, facing the two of you. “How long are we going to stay here?”

“As long as we need.” He answered, standing from his seat, the Child stared up at him, his hands reaching for him. Mando reached up, both of you watching as the Child wrapped his small hand around one of the Mandalorian’s fingers. You watched with a small smile, looking up at Mando, he tilted his helmet towards you, his eyes connecting with yours. 

It always felt like the air was ripped from his lungs when he looked into your eyes. Or at least hoped that he was. The way your eyes shined in the light, how wide and full of life they were. Ever since that night of passion, things were definitely different. Both Mando and you knew that things couldn’t go back to how they were, neither of you wanted that, but it was hard to label what’s between you two when the two of you didn’t even know what to call your ‘relationship’. It was unspoken what was going on, but a few things have changed. Longer glances at one another, small touches that lit both of your bodies on fire, and nights that the two of you shared together. 

It started to become a routine, the way Mando would lay awake in the middle of the night and hear you shuffle into his room, crawling into his bed and making yourself comfortable. At first it was he’d wake up to you sleeping by his side, curdled next to him with the blanket over your face, respecting Mando’s creed. When you’d wake up, he’d already be working on the ship, neither of you speaking about the previous night. What turned into once in a while, turned into every other night which turned to every night that you’d shuffle into his room, curling beside him and falling asleep. He didn’t mind, in all actuality, that’s what he waited for each night, to hear you shuffle into his room, your bare feet cautiously slapping against the metal of the ship looking for the cot and it dipping from your weight as you made yourself comfortable next to him. Mando was sure to keep his helmet on, not wanting to break his creed, but each time the room was pitch black, sheltering him from your gaze, and each morning he was gone before you were awake. You noticed the helmet, wondering if you should say anything about this unspoken routine, if it was too uncomfortable, but you figured if it was something Mando didn’t want, he would’ve said something by now. As the nights went on of you sleeping with him, you began to notice that he no longer wore his helmet to bed (as you stubbed your toes on it one night) trusting that you wouldn’t look. 

You weren’t sure why you started going to sleep with him. One night you were up, your body refusing to go to sleep, your mind too active. Thoughts of the child and Mando filling your head, and no matter how hard you tried, sleeping wasn’t an option. The decision to go to Mando was a difficult one, you weren’t sure if he was gonna tell you to go back to your own cot, or blow up at you, or what. It was a chance you were honestly willing to take. That night that you tiptoed to his room, you noticed he kept his room dark, hiding his identity from anyone or anything that could come and see him. You slipped into his bed, pulling the blanket over your head and like a light switch, you were out. After that night, neither of you spoke about it, leaving it almost like a secret between the two of you. A secret from who? No idea, but it was a secret you were excited to have.

Mando couldn’t help himself when he reached for you, his gloved hand cupping your cheek. He watched as your eyes widened, your lips parted as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb, taking in your beauty. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling for you, it was a strong feeling he hasn’t felt for a long time, something that made him nervous. Nothing really made him nervous anymore, and the fact that you made him feel like that scared him. 

“We should find some lounging.” Mando spoke up, pulling his hand from your face, the warmth leaving with him as your cheek grew cold. With a swift nod, you turned from him, grabbing the small messenger bag and nestling the Child inside, looping it over your shoulder.

The walk towards the small town was filled with silence, Mando keeping an eye and ear out for danger, if that was even possible on this planet, but also trying to rack through his own thoughts. You on the other hand, it was clear that something was on your mind, and that something was the man covered in beskar armour that made you feel boneless little less than a month ago. It was hard not to think about that time against the cold metal, the way he grabbed you, felt inside you, everything about that time was branded in your memory, and it was something that you couldn’t forget. What you couldn’t forget the most was that he took his helmet off, for you. Even if you had to keep your eyes shut, the action itself was enough to make your heart swell with the possibility that there was something more there than sexual feelings. Of course there was, he wouldn’t be letting you crawl into his bed every night or leave the small touches like he did just a few moments ago. It was the matter of talking about what this was, that scared you, and him even. 

Things definitely changed, that was undeniable, it was the fact that you had to address it that made it difficult. 

In a short period of time the three of you made it to the small town, it being more active than the past towns you’ve been to. People walking through the crowds of people to shops, other folks just sitting at the tables enjoying the sunlight. It was a town that was very much alive. The people wore bright colored clothes, all enjoying one another’s company. They must’ve been new to visitors as they stared the two of you down. But no one made a move to figure out where you came from, they kept their distance.

You reached down for the little flap on the bag, lifting it and seeing the Child staring back up at you. “Whatcha doing?” You giggled, reaching in and tickling his chest. He only cooed, wiggling in the bag. “Okay.” You laughed, stopping in your tracks and reaching in. “Keep within my eyesight.” You mumbled, setting him down onto the gravel. He cooed loudly, wobbling towards Mando. You followed close behind, watching as the Child caught up to Mando, his small hand wrapping grabbing onto the dark cape. An amused smile grew on your face as you watched Mando turn around, his neck bending to see the Child staring up at him, his small green hands grabbing onto his leg. “Rather have you hold him than me.” You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest. Mando glanced at you for a moment before reaching down and grabbing the Child, lifting him into his arms.

“Lets go.” He huffed. On the inside you knew that he loved this, the bond he had with this creature, he was just too tough to be open about it. With a smile, you followed, watching as the Child was staring at everyone and everything, taking in the life. Shortly you got to the small lounging, watching as Mando handed the Child back to you, heading up to talk to the owner for a room. You stood a few feet away, looking out at the crowd of people that were starting to gather further down the main street. You watched with a curious look, hearing Mando talk to the woman, trying to negotiate on a price for the room. Always trying to talk down the price. With a huff, Mando paid for the room, leaving the woman at the counter with a scowl on her face.

“Hey,” You softly spoke, glancing over at the woman. “What’s exactly going on here?” She sighed, leaning forward and staring down at the crowd of people.

“A festival, it's the beginning of the new season, it’s something to celebrate.” You nodded, listening to the woman. “It’s mostly a festival to be grateful for life.”

“That’s fun.” You smiled, looking back at the woman, she wasn’t smiling, just staring at you with a scowl. The smile fell from your face, wondering what Mando said to the woman to make her so mad. “Have a great one.” You hurried, looking forward, seeing Mando waiting. With a sheepish smile you caught up, following as he guided you towards the lounging.

He swung the door open, revealing two makeshift cots, and a window at the back of the room. It wasn’t the best option, but it was obviously better than what you had going on back on the ship. Mando didn’t say a word as he stepped inside, looking around. With a sigh, you set down the Child, watching as he waddled inside, making himself at home instantly as he explored the small room. You stepped in, closing the door behind you choosing the cot furthest away from the door, sitting down and watching the Child happily make his way around the room. 

“Did you hear what that woman said about what's going on?” you started, questioning yourself as to why you even started talking. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mando walk over to the window, glancing out. His helmet tilting slightly towards you, a sign that he was listening. “It’s apparently a festival for the new season that's coming for the people.” You explained, turning and facing the bounty hunter. “A festival to be grateful for life as well.” You smiled, watching as he looked at you. It was hard to see what he was thinking about, hard to know what he looked like as he stared at you. You tried to pick up on any gestures he would do, hoping it would help you figure out what he was going through but sometimes you were still as confused as you were before. 

He said nothing, only crossed the room and sat on his cot, beginning to mess with his beskar. You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if you should talk again or just leave it be and let him do what he needs to do.

“Would you like to walk around and see?” The modulated voice rung. You were honestly shocked that he said something, much less asking if you wanted to see what was going on. You thought if anything he’d want to stay low, leaving for dinner on the first day and seeing if this planet really is as safe as he thought it was. 

“Can we?” You whispered, patiently waiting like a child as he thought things over. He turned his heads towards you, his eyes looking over your excited form, the smile on your face as you thought about the festival. At that moment, he realized he could never say no to you.

***

Mando stayed a distance behind, watching as you walked through the crowds of people, The Child in the bag that hung on your hip, the flap open for him to sit and watch without trying to keep up with the two of you. He kept a close eye on the two of you, nothing else catching his eye as the three of you walked, wanting to make sure nothing happened to the two of you. He watched as you watched the people celebrate, your eyes gleaming as you saw the people dancing to the music he was sure you’ve never heard of. The face of pure curiosity on your face was enough to make his heart tug. 

Things were different, he didn’t talk about things because he wasn’t sure how to explain himself. That night, with you changed everything to him. He knew there was something there, there always was. The way he would catch you staring at him, or the way his heart would pick up as he got closer to the Razor’s Crest after he would catch a bounty. It was subtle things that he knew the both of you would pick up on, and that night changed it all. He cleared his throat, trying to steer his mind away from imagining that night once again. It was something he couldn’t stop thinking about. The way you gave yourself to him, the way you felt around him, he needs more.

He had to control himself.

The festival, the colors, the music and the people were all new to you. It was something unlike anything you’ve ever seen before in your life. It was a bit overwhelming. You looked down at the Child, watching as his wide eyes were staring at everything as well. You were sure the two of you looked alike, a pure look of excitement at the new things. You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes instantly landing on Mando as he followed close. You wondered if he was enjoying this just as much as you were. But you were sure he’s seen things like this all the time. You weren’t exactly too sure, he never spoke of past travels. He really never spoke to you about anything. Shaking your head, you tried to focus back on the festivities that were going on. Most of it was just dancing, the people enjoying the music and moving.

You gasped softly as you felt a small hand wrap around your wrist, tugging softly. Glancing down, you noticed a small child staring up at you, wide eyes, a smile on her face and sweat on her forehead. Her eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the child quickly. I chuckled softly, crouching down, grabbing the Child in the bag and lifting him. “You can say ‘hi’.” I smiled, watching as her eyes got even wider. The Child cooed, lifting his hands to her, his little green fingers tickling her face. She giggled loudly, her hands going in excitement as she watched the Child. He cooed loudly, his arms going as he saw her own happiness. She calmed a bit, reaching into her pocket and pulling a beaded necklace. You smiled softly as you watched her look up at you, asking for silent permission. You nodded, watching as she lifted the beads up, the small string landing around his neck. Her smile grew, looking up at me with happy eyes. She reached back into her own pocket, pulling another string of beads out. She held it out to you, a wide smile on her face. With a smile, you ducked down, feeling the beads glide against your hair, and settling around your neck. You leaned back up, reaching and pulling your hair from under, the cool beads settling on the back of your neck. You looked over at Mando, smiling widely at him. Again, nothing. 

As you walked around and looked at everything the day slowly turned to night, the people of the planet were still going strong and dancing almost like they haven’t been dancing for the whole day. As the day went on, you noticed people were setting up strings of lights or torches for the people to still see as it got darker, lighting up the festivities. Mando was getting closer and closer as it was getting darker, keeping close as we walked. 

“He’s asleep.”

Your head whips around, looking up at Mando as he looks straight ahead. “What?” You watched as he looked at you, before glancing down at the bag. You looked down, a soft ‘awe’ leaving your lips. The Child was fast asleep, the necklace the little girl gave her held tightly in his hands. “I think we should get back.” You whispered, looking up at him. With a swift nod he turned, leading the way back. You followed, reaching a hand down to the Child, his arms stretching out, before holding onto your hand. 

You kept close to Mando, watching the way even as the people were enjoying their time, they were still moving out of the way for the bounty hunter. 

“I’m sorry I dragged you around all over this planet.” You spoke, glancing up at Mando. “I wanted to see what a festival was really like.” He nodded, still keeping his pace as the two of you walked back to the room. There was a tense silence between the two of you, an unspoken ‘thing’. And both of you knew what that was. 

Once back to the room, Mando quickly turned his back to you, working quietly on his beskar once again. You sighed softly, closing the door and walking over to your own cot. You softly pulled the Child out from the bag, his limp body heavier than you realized. You looked around the room, wondering if there was anything you could make a little cot with, but the blankets and items were things that the Mando and you would be using. With a heavy sigh, you gently laid the Child onto your cot, his little head sinking into the pillow. You chuckled softly as you grabbed the blanket and pulled it up, making a wall out of the blanket for him to stay in. You curled up besides the Child, resting your head on your arm as you looked over the strange creatures’ features. In a few short moments, the tiredness of walking around the festival soon encased you, leaving your eyes heavy as you fell asleep next to the child.

As it grew darker, and as you soon were asleep next to the Child, Mando found this the perfect time to take off his beskar. He knew he could trust you as he removed his helmet, setting it down besides him on the cot, removing the weight of his armour until he was in his pants and shirt. He slowly leaned back, the weight of the day present as his back strained from being in constant movement, his back popping in places that made him groan as he laid there. 

He heard the small snoring coming from you, turning his head and noticing the outline of your body in the dark, the way he wanted to feel the dips and curves of your body as you laid on your side. His mind was racing from remembering what you felt like under his hands that night, how soft you were, the way you gave yourself up to him. He only stares, thinking about you. The way you took care of the child, the way you took care of him. He wasn’t used to having someone there who really wanted to be there. It’s always been only him, and the fact that these two came into his life was… overwhelming, but not unwanted. He was content with watching over the two of you, knowing you both needed the sleep from the excitement today. Mando rarely needed the full 8 hours of sleep, needing only a couple hours to feel energized. But he wasn’t complaining, he was able to watch you and the Child.

He laid there, letting his mind race from what he was going to do about the Child, if finding it’s kind was the right choice. Of course it was, to keep him if they do find his people would be a selfish choice, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what he could do. 

His breath hitched lightly as he saw your body move, groaning as you twisted your body around, your back now facing Mando. He froze, knowing the room was dark enough that you couldn’t see his face, but he was more worried about her waking up and noticing Mando watching her. He only watched as you groggily sat up, a hand coming out to rub at your eyes as you adjusted to waking up. You looked over at the child, fixing the blanket that was disheveled from his movement and then stood up. Mando watched as you moved, standing from the bed, arching your back as you stretched, moaning softly as your own back popped. 

The soft moans had chills running down Mando’s back, hearing them once again was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever hear again. He noticed the way you glanced over at him, looking at his legs rather than his upper half. He noticed the way you kept his creed, even when you thought he was asleep. He watched as you walked towards the window, moving the curtains out of the way, looking at the crowds of people still celebrating. 

“How long have I been asleep?” You whispered to yourself, still standing there as you watched the people.

“Only a couple hours.” You froze in your spot, the unfiltered voice responding to your question. You instantly lifted a hand to your eyes, the curtain slipping from your hand, as you backed away from the light.

“I’m so sorry Mando, I didn’t realize you didn’t have your-”

“It’s fine.” He spoke, watching the way you still covered your eyes, your back to him. He felt his lips turn into a smile, watching the way you just stood there, trying to figure out what to do without seeing him. “It’s dark enough.” He spoke again, watching the way you still stood there, covering your eyes until you slowly let your hand drop. He watched as the light from outside bled through the thin curtain and onto your face, highlighting every detail on your face, and he knew that you were the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his whole life. 

“I don’t want you to break your creed, Mando.” You spoke softly, eyes still shut.

“I won’t.” He spoke softly, wondering at that moment if breaking his creed for you was a bad thing. But you kept your eyes shut, not trusting that the room was dark enough. You heard the cot shift, hearing Mando’s footsteps coming closer and closer. You tensed, not bothering to take another breath as you heard him get closer and closer. “You won't break it.” He whispered, grabbing onto your wrist lightly. You let him guide you away from the window, the light that was once shining on your face soon fading until there was only darkness. You couldn't stop the chills that ran down your back as you felt Mando’s thumb softly rub against the inside of your wrist as he guided you. It was such a small act, but there was so much intimacy behind it. At least, for you.

“I don’t want to open my eyes.” You whispered to him, letting out a breath you were holding the whole time.

“You don’t want to see me?” You could hear the teasing tone and the smile on his face, something you were grateful to hear without the helmet blocking his voice.

“Of course I do.” You whispered again, trying not to wake the child up. “But I can’t lose your trust.” There was a bit of silence, your words lingering in the air as you waited for Mando to say something. You waited for his voice, only hearing the soft noises coming from the Child as he slept and the people that were still celebrating. “Look,” you stared, letting your mind run a mile a minute, the anxiety of everything between the two of you rushing out, “I’m sorry if I did anything that you didn’t like or if any of this wasn’t what you-”

You gasped loudly as you felt Mando wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you roughly against his chest. In a swift move, he turned the both of you around, your back landing softly on the cot, Mando holding himself up above you, your hands against his chest as the two of you laid like that for a moment, the world stopping around you as you tried to control what was going on. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispered to you, his hand pushing away some hair that fell over your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. To say you forgot how to breath was an understatement, you were sure that you had died and that this was simply heaven for you. His fingers slowly trailed down your jaw, tracing the curve as the roughness of his fingers left goosebumps down your arms. He saw the way his touch made you react, and it only made him want to see more of it, forgetting how addictive it was to see you in this state. His fingers moved lower, trailing down your neck, his fingers outlining the edge of the shirt you wore. “You never could.” He whispered lowly. It was low enough that you weren’t sure if it was meant for you or for himself, either way, it was enough to make a light blush appear on your face and chest. 

You kept your eyes shut, basking in the feeling of his fingers as he softly touched your neck and face. You listen to his breathing as he took his time tracing your features, taking in the feeling of his fingers as the two of you laid there. “Mando.” You whispered, feeling his fingers still for a moment until they continued their journey. He slowly trailed them to your lips, his calloused fingers tracing over them. You could feel his eyes as he followed his own fingers. “Mando.” You whispered again. “Kiss me.” Within a second, there was no turning back.

He grabbed the back of your head, pulling you up to him as you felt his lips crash against yours, his facial hair scratching against your skin as your lips moved together. Your hands grabbed at his shirt, pulling him even closer (if that was possible), wanting to feel his entire weight on you as you tasted him. His other hand caressed your side, his fingers digging softly into your hip before he grabbed the back of your knee, lifting it up and over his hip as he settled himself between your thighs. You gasped against his lips as you felt his bulge rub against your clothed center, the noise you made only spurring Mando on even more. He pulled away, his lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath, watching the way your own chest was heaving, the soft, sweet noises leaving your lips as he stayed above you. You felt his hands grab at your waist, his hands slowly pushing the flimsy shirt you wore up, exposing the skin he’s already seen. He watched the way your chest rose and fell a bit quicker, the way you gradually sounded more and more out of breath from just his small touches. As he got to your breasts he stopped, the shirt bunched up, your stomach exposed to him, his hands resting on your rib cage. It felt like an eternity as you both waited for the next move. “Please, Mando.” You begged softly, wanting more and more each second. He couldn’t refuse. He yanked the shirt off of you, your hair spiraling around you as he pulled the shirt off. You grabbed his hands, impatient with how slow he was taking things and guided his hands to your boobs, his hands greedily grabbing, a low moan coming from Mando as he felt the soft skin. 

He was rough as he pulled down the cups of your bra, his head ducking instantly as he latched onto a nipple, his tongue flicking against the hardened skin. You moaned softly, arching your back, Mando’s arm wrapping around you a bit tighter, pulling you even closer to his mouth. You clawed at his back, gathering at his shirt, pulling it to his shoulders. “Take it off.” You mewed, feeling Mando pull away from you. Mando tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. He notices the way you didn’t react, your hands laying still on his hips. You still had your eyes closed. He hovered above you, resting his weight on his forearms as he softly pressed his lips against yours.

“Open your eyes.” He whispered against your lips, peppering kisses along your cheeks and chin.

“Your creed.” You whispered back, feeling the way his facial hair scratched your skin. “I don’t want to-”

“Open your eyes.” He repeated, his tone a bit more stern this time. You took a deep breath, your eyes fluttering open. You were surprised with how dark it actually was in the room. You couldn’t see his facial features, but you could see the outline of his body above you. You reached for him, your hands caressing up his arms to his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex slightly, the healed skin from previous wounds brushing against your hand. He let you touch him, his own breathing quickening as you moved your hands down his chest. Unlike last time, you wanted to take a bit more time. You shoved against his shoulder, rolling the two of you over, straddling his hips as he let out a huff as he settled against the cot. He grabbed onto your hips as you settled yourself on top of him, his fingers digging softly into your skin.

The two of you didn’t say anything as you planted your hands on his chest, letting your hands roam around searching for scars. You felt his chest rise quickly as you started roaming, feeling the slight chest hair that was scattered along his skin. With it being so dark, you went with your touch, finding the scars and tracing a finger along them, wondering how he got each one. As you continue your travel, you touch one particular long scar, that starts near his hip bone, and ends at mid torso. You fixated on this scar, your fingers tracing over it over and over again. “How did you get this one?” You asked, feeling the new skin that grew. You felt Mando sigh, his hands moving down to your thighs, before moving back up to your hips.

“Bounty got a bit carried away when I located him.” He answered. You didn’t think you could ever get used to his voice without the helmet, the sound alone making you weak above him. You took a deep breath, leaning down peppering soft kisses along his chest, softly licking along the scars that you met along the way as you traveled down his chest. You heard the small gasps leaving his mouth as you got lower and lower, straddling his legs as you kissed along the longer scar, feeling his hands push back some of your hair that fell forward. You kissed along the band of his pants, feeling him twitch against the fabric as you edged closer to the edge, teasing him. You licked a strip from his hip bone to his stomach, Mando moaning as the air hit it, sending goosebumps up his body.

“Y/N.” He warned, feeling your lips turn up in a smile against his stomach, your fingers dancing along the waistband of his pants. You hooked your fingers along the band, tugging softly. Mando quickly got the hint, lifting his hips as you tugged the pants harshly down, his erection slapping against his stomach, a bead of precum slowly leaking from the tip. You fumbled for a moment as you pulled his clothing off, tossing them on the floor before you seated yourself between his legs. “You don’t-”

“Shh.” You whispered, smiling to yourself softly. You nervously pressed your hands against his thighs, feeling more scars as you moved them up, feeling the way he flexed against your touch. You noticed the way you felt the blanket on the cot shifted, his hands bunching at the blanket as you moved closer and closer to your target. You wrapped a hand around his length, Mando grunting as you squeezed your hand around him, the velvety skin feeling foreign but not unwelcome as you moved your hand up. Mando was obviously a bit larger than what you expected, even with sleeping with him the first time, it was still a surprise with how large he felt in your hand, the girth of him making you nervous. “You’re so big.” you whispered to yourself, a smile on your face when you heard Mando moan softly at your words. You leaned forward, giving his length an experimental lick. 

Mando gasped loudly, his hips rising as you pulled away. You smiled, his reaction only wanting you to hear more from him. You made yourself comfortable between his legs, leaning forward again and sucking the tip between your lips. He grunted as he felt the warmth of your mouth, his hands clenching onto the blanket a bit tighter as he felt your tongue flick at the tip. You moaned softly, tasting the precum that coated your tongue, the salty taste making you clench around nothing. You were positive that you were soaked, squeezing your thighs together as you slowly took more and more of Mando’s cock in your mouth. 

Mando was on the brink of exploding. All he wanted as to grab the back of your head and fuck your throat. As rough as it sounded, that’s all he wanted was to hear you gag around him, and to feel your throat tighten around him. But he stopped himself, grabbing at the blanket under him, focusing on the feeling of your mouth around him. He watched as you slowly started bobbing your head, feeling you take more into your mouth, the tip of his cock lightly hitting the back of your throat. He bucked softly at the sensation, making you gag around him. He growled loudly, the sound sending chills right down his back.

To your surprise, you liked it. 

You pulled back with a loud gasp, twisting your hand around his cock, spreading your spit around him, the wet sound adding to the soft pants that filled the room. Mando’s length twitched in your hand, his hips bucking as you stroked him, your thumb brushing along his tip, watching the way he gasped. You brushed some hair back over your shoulder, leaning back down and sliding his cock back in your mouth. “Fuck.” Mando cursed, his hand flying to the back of your head, his hand grabbing at your hair as you gagged around him, moaning softly as he tugged on your hair. Your scalp stung as he tugged on the strands, his hand gathering your hair to a makeshift pony. “Feels so good.” he rasped, the sound shooting straight to your core. You wanted to hear these sounds coming from him for the rest of your life. Seeing him like this, on his back and so vulnerable to you, made you want to be on your knees for him whenever he wanted. You bobbed your head a little faster, wrapping your hand around what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. “Maker.” He growled, his body tensing beneath you. “Stop. Stop.” He rasped, pushing gently at your shoulders, his cock slipping from your lips, a string of saliva trailing behind as you took a deep breath in, licking your swollen lips.

“Did I-” You barely got a sentence out before Mando pushed himself up, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you with a passion that made your whole body weak. Mando didn't say a word as he reached behind you, unhooking the flimsy material and tossing it across the room, grabbing your hips and tugging you on top of him, your breast pressed tightly against his chest. He pawed at your thighs, his short fingernails scratching against the tight material as he pulled you impossibly close to him. You gasped as you felt his length rub against your clothed center, trapping his throbbing length between your bodies. He held you against him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands weaving into his thick hair, kissing him with a passion that only he was able to pull from you. 

“I wanna feel you when I cum.” He whispered against your lips, dragging his lips against your cheek as he left open mouth kisses along your jaw, peppering them down to your neck. You moaned at his words, nodding softly. He tightened his hold on you, wanting you impossibly close. You gave your hips an experimental roll, gasping softly as you felt his length rub against you. Mando growled against your neck, his fingers digging roughly into your thighs. You were positive that you were going to end up with small bruises scattered along your hips and thighs and you were more than excited to be seeing them later on. Mandos' hands became frantic, grabbing at the thin material around your legs and hips, tugging on the waistband and pulling harshly. “Take them off.” He growled into your neck, his teeth digging into the skin. You pulled yourself off of him, pushing your hair back and tugging at the pants.

He could see the outline of your body as you moved quickly, shimming the material down your legs as you stepped out of them. Mando was impatient as he reached for you, a hand on your hip and the other on your thigh, sitting you right back onto his lap, his lips finding yours in the dark. “I’ve thought about you.” He whispered, his hands caressing your back, feeling every single inch of skin that was exposed to him. “Every night.”

You could’ve died hearing those words leave his mouth. 

“I have to.” You confessed, fingers digging into his tensed shoulders as he peppered kisses along your chest and neck. 

“I’ve wanted you every single night.” He continued, sucking harshly at the top of your breast, for sure leaving a bruising. You’d let him mark you how ever he wanted, as long as it was him. “You’re so soft.”

“Mando, please.” You begged, rolling your hips once again, feeling his cock drag between your folds. He grunted into your chest, feeling your wetness coat his cock. He trusted against you, the tip bumping your clit making you jolt in his arms. “I need you.”

“Say it again.” He growled, weaving his hand into your hair, grabbing a fist full and keeping you still. “Beg.” You realized that Mando was a very dominant person, someone who took what they wanted whenever they wanted, and that didn’t stop when it came to your body. 

“Please.” You pleaded, your voice sounding forgien to your own ears. “I want you in me.” You didn’t care if you sounded pathetic, you were desperate to feel him again. “I need you. Please.”

“You have no idea what I would do for you, my cyar’ika.” He whispered into your ear, lifting you against him. You moaned as you felt him reach for his cock from around you, rubbing the tip between your folds, smearing his precum and your juices around. He lined his cock to your entrance, holding you above him. “Do you want me?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes.” You nodded frantically, “Always.” That was the correct answer for Mando as he pulled you down, his cock splitting you in half. You whined, dropping your head onto his shoulder, his cock stretching you wide open. It was a bit of a tight fit, both of you were panting by the time half of him was in you. You slowly worked yourself onto him, lifting your hips softly as you sunk down on him.

“Maker.” Mando huffed, “You’re so tight.” You whined into his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as you finally sat on his thighs. His cock filling you to the brim, pulsing deep within you. Barely moving and you were already out of breath, already squirming against him as he was fully seated in you. Mando wasn’t doing any better, his hands had  a bruising grip on your thighs, his breath stilled as he let you adjust to this position. You took a deep breath, lifting your hips, his cock dragging against your walls. A rush of pleasure shook your body, chills spreading over your skin as you sat back down. Mando gasped against you, his hips bucking against you as he wanted more. But he wanted you to control the pace, take it the speed you need it at. And it was killing him not to flip you around and take you the way he wanted. 

You started lifting yourself on your knees, moving on top of Mando, feeling his cock become wetter and wetter with your juices as you moved. “You feel so good.” You moaned, the sound of your wetness coating him filling the sound in the room. You gained the confidence you needed, moving a little bit faster, bouncing on his cock as he plunged deep within you. 

“Fuck Y/N.” Mando growled, grabbing your hips and helping you ride him, lifting you a bit more and dragging you down a bit harder than what you could do on your own. The tip of his cock nudged your g-spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You pushed at his shoulders, shoving him back onto the cot, planting your hands on his chest and lifting yourself up. Mando was sure that this sweet girl who was shy all the time wasn’t the one who was currently riding him. You were in control, riding him and taking what you wanted. He loved it. 

He reached for you, grabbing the back of your head, tugging you down harshly against him, your breast pressed tightly against his chest. You squealed as he tugged you down, a hand in your hair, keeping you to him. “You’re so fucking tight around me.” He moaned, your walls clenching around him in response. It was a mess between the two of you, bouncing on top of him, both of you chasing your climaxes, wanting to feel the other. “This pussy is mine.” He growled.

“Yes.” He didn’t leave any room for you to argue, not that you wanted to, you knew that you were his, even if it took this long to screw again, you knew that you were his no matter what. 

“Say it.” He huffed, spreading his legs, your own thighs spreading a bit wider, a slight burn from your muscles as he planted his feet and started thrusting up into you. You sobbed against him as his cock brutally nudged your g-spot, your body limp against him as he took control, a hand in your hair and an arm around your waist, keeping you tight to him. “Say you’re mine, sweet thing.” You weren’t even sure if you could speak as he set this brutal pace. 

“I’m yours.” You cried, hiding your face in his neck, muffling your cries as he fucked you. “I’m all yours.”

“You take me so well.” He marveled, his arm tightening around your waist before flipping the two of you over. Your breath hitched as he flipped you over, the scratching material of the blanket digging into your back as he settled himself between your legs, his hands traveling down your sides and to your thighs, hooking the back of your knees and lifting them. You moaned loudly as you felt the burning stretching at the back of your thighs as he lifted your knees towards your chest, spreading you for himself. “I could fuck you all day.” He whispered to you, grabbing himself and lining up to your entrance. Your jaw was slacked as you felt him rub your clit with his tip before slamming back in, the slight pain of this new position instantly making your thighs shake. You were his for the taking, and he was taking every last bit. “Ever since that night,” He huffed, thrusting into you slowly, feeling the way you clenched around him, almost making him lose his train of thought. “I’ve thought about having you in every way possible.” You whined, listening to his words, his cock sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

“Don’t stop.” you begged, feeling him slow down. “Please Mando, make me cum.” The begging really did it for him. He hovered above you, hooking your thighs over his arms as he fucked you hard. You were a mess, breathless moans, his skin slapping against yours, the wetness of your pussy was all the two of you could hear. You soon felt the familiar tightness in the pit of your stomach, your thighs beginning to shake as your climax was growing and growing. “Mando.” you cried, your walls fluttering around him as your pussy was becoming over sensitive to his movement.

“Cum around me, sweet thing.” he moaned, his own climax approaching as he felt you tighten around him. “Let me feel you.” You grabbed onto his forearms, his trusts speeding up becoming a bit more animalistic. You moaned loudly, that tightness in your stomach snapping as you came, gushing around his cock, gasping into his shoulder, whimpering at the over stimulation. “Cum inside me.” You begged. He growled into your shoulder as he felt your walls pulsating around him, his movements becoming irregular when he heard your words. He came a few thrusts after you, filling you to the brim with his cum. You gasped at the sensation, feeling Mando bite down on your shoulder, keeping his throbbing cock buried in you, giving you a few more soft thrusts.  

Your walls clenched around him, feeling his cock twitch and pulse within you, both of you wordless and out of breath from the orgasms. He slowly let go of your thighs, whimpering as they instantly began feeling sore. Your whole body was sore, you knew that tomorrow you were going to be walking funny, there was no way you weren’t.

You reached up, weaving a hand into his shaggy hair, scratching at his scalp as the two of you calmed down, relishing in one another as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, caressing your thigh softly. It made you smirk, remembering him asking you the same question last time.

“I’ve never been better.” You whispered back, feeling a smile growing on his face. He pulled out of you, both of you moaning softly. You blushed as you felt his and your cum leaking from you, dripping onto the bed. He seattle himself next to you, lightly shoving his arm under your head. With a smirk you made yourself comfortable, rolling over and resting your head on his chest. “Is this okay?” You whispered, feeling him slowly place his hand on your back.

“Yes.” he answered, his thumb rubbing your back softly.

*** 

You groaned as you felt something touching your face, caressing at your cheek as you slept. You cracked an eye open, seeing the Child standing right in front of your face, holding one of his little hands to your cheek. Once he saw your eye open he cooed loudly, a smile on his little face. “What are you doing, sweet thing?” You whispered, clenching the scratchy blanket closer to your chest. You raised an arm, poking at his little chest. You lifted yourself up onto an elbow, glancing around the room. Mando was gone, your clothes still scattered everywhere, and the Child in the cot with you. “Where did he go?” You whispered to the child, wrapping the blanket around your body and standing. You were right, you were sore, legs wobbling as you stood, the evidence of last night covering the inside of your thighs. You blushed, as you collected your clothes that were scattered everywhere. 

As you grabbed your shirt, the door opened, Mando walking in with two bowls of food. You jumped lightly, seeing him standing there, in his beskar and helmet, and you, in a blanket.

“Sorry.” You chuckled, lightly, “Just woke up.” You smiled, again not sure of what facial expressions he was making under his helmet. 

“I brought food.” He commented, closing the door. You were unaware how small this room was, or if it was the fact that Mando just took up so much space. “For you and the child.” He added, stepping over to the child. He greedily accepted the food, holding the small bowl in between his hands, as he sat on the cot. 

“Let me get dressed.” You smiled again, shrugging a shoulder and turning. You barely took a step when you felt a gloved hand grab your wrist. You turned, Mando standing right in front of you. A word wasn’t spoken as he cupped the back of your head, leaning down and resting his helmet against your forehead. You smiled, closing your eyes and feeling the coolness against your skin. 

-

Tag List: @hayley-the-comet​

If you’d like to be tagged for anymore of my future works please let me know!

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 30: Dukexiety

Day 30 - When you look in the mirror, you can’t see your own reflection, just your soulmate. (Never heard of this prompt before, so I guessed)

Content warnings: maybe some anxiety? Just some wholesome for ya.

Word count: 1.5k

This ficlet is dedicated to @marshymoop. 

Virgil was told he had brown hair; the color of a walnut. Sometimes if he grew it out long enough, he could just catch a glimpse of the color when it fell into his eyes. Apparently those were brown too. 

A friend of his mom’s was an artist and had drawn him when he’d turned thirteen, but it hadn’t looked right. The face staring back at him from the canvas didn’t feel like his at all. He didn’t recognize the curve to the nose or the bags under the eyes; it just looked like a stranger. The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt, and he’d tucked it into the back corner of his closet, never to look at it again.

His reflection, where he’d seen the face of his soulmate since he was a baby, was far more familiar to him.

Black hair streaked with white.

Sharp green eyes.

A smattering of freckles over olive skin.

Sometimes it was odd, smearing makeup under eyes that weren’t technically his, and trying to fix hair that was shorter than what showed in the reflection, but it was a problem everyone had until they met their soulmate. He just hoped that the dark clothes looked as good on the real him as it did on his reflection. 

 ---

Virgil was struggling to focus on the textbook paragraph in front of him when his phone chimed. It was a welcome distraction from the existential quandaries that came with Philosophy 103. Just a quick break, he promised. 

 Remus: heyyyyyyy

 Aaaand there was that plan out the window. He couldn’t care less though, studying be damned, because now his heart was pounding and a nearly painful smile was stretching his cheeks. It had been a week since Remus had messaged him, and the pent up joy was all coming out at once. 

 You’re back! He replied amidst flapping hands. How was camping? His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. 

 I missed your messages. I missed you. I was lonely.  

 He said nothing.

 Remus: i caught a squirrel. i couldn’t keep it though

 Virgil: Did you name it at least?

 That’s adorable. You’re adorable and a goof and amazing.

 Remus: Yep. Squirrely Temple

 A picture message showed up moments later, showing a surprisingly relaxed squirrel sitting in a styrofoam cup, a single peanut clasped in it’s little hands. The taker of the photo wasn’t visible, though that was to be expected. 

The next one featured what Virgil assumed was the same squirrel, this time wearing a crudely constructed paper top hat. It held another peanut, and once again seemed shockingly unconcerned. 

The photo was quickly replaced with a call screen and Virgil accepted it eagerly, still laughing.

 “Did you see the squirrel?” Remus asked excitedly, to which Virgil could only laugh harder.

 “Why is it in a hat?” He wheezed.

 “I made it out of sap and a brochure I found. I think Squirrely Temple looked rather dapper.” The grin was evident in Remus’ voice.

 “And you didn’t keep it?” Virgil inelegantly kicked his schoolwork off the bed to lay across it, grabbing his fidget cube from the side table.

 “Nah, something about preserving wildlife and not having enough room at home,” he yawned, “Me an’ Roman gave him plenty of peanuts before we left though. A whole pile on a wood stump.”

 “You sound tired,” Virgil teased. There was a small twinge in his chest at the idea of Remus going to bed already. He’d been off the grid for a week. Virgil was loath to admit, but he’d missed his friend more than expected. 

 “I think my body just sees an actual bed and the ‘tired’ protocol is,” Another yawn, “activated.”

 Virgil yawned in tandem. “You should probably sleep, then.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. 

 “Take your own advice, and I’ll consider. When’s the last time you got six hours of sleep?”

 “Consecutively?” 

 Remus snorted. There was a whoosh of air as he dropped onto his bed, and a brief lull in the conversation before he spoke up. “I think I’d rather talk to you than sleep, actually.”

 Damn, how was he supposed to respond to that? He pressed a cool hand to his reddening cheeks, glad the other couldn’t see him. “Wow, is that genuine emotion coming from Remus?” Virgil retorted instead. We can talk for hours if you want. I missed talking to you. 

 “My bad, I think I still have some fresh air in my system.”

 God, he’d missed him. A single week had felt like a whole year without their constant interaction and updates throughout their days. They’d only known each other for months (had it only been months?) but in that time, talking to each other had become so ingrained in their lives, it seemed wrong to not wake up with his phone blown up from messages. It was so effortless, wasting hours away but feeling like no time had passed at all. It meant the world to Virgil.

 And despite their jokes and snarky conversations, he had a feeling it meant a lot to Remus too.

 It was as if he blinked, and the sun had set in the sky. The room had gradually turned dark as ink but Virgil couldn’t be bothered to flip on the lights, not when he was so captivated by Remus’ voice as he recounted his family camping trip. He didn’t notice nor care; this was more important.

Only when Remus’ yawns grew closer and closer together did it occur to him that the other was several hours ahead, blasted timezones. It would be early morning there.

 “I think you should try to sleep,” Virgil grinned as Remus tried and failed to keep talking through another yawn.

 “Maybe,” He sighed.

 “Talk tomorrow?” For the first night in a bit, Virgil felt that same, familiar warm bubble in his chest.

 “I actually had a question for you, first.”

 Pop.

 Remus sounded uncharacteristically nervous, putting Virgil on edge instantly. Everything he’d ever done wrong flooded through his mind. Oh god, how did he find out about the third grade Christmas concert?

 “Do you want to vid chat?” He blurted.

 Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Like, tomorrow. Or not. It’s okay if not.”

 Remus never stuttered. Something about it was unbelievably adorable. 

 “Just for fun, because we haven’t before, but if you don’t want to there’s no pressure-”

 “Yes.”

 All blubbering screeched to a halt on the other end, and Virgil couldn’t decide if his predominant emotion was anxiety or excitement. Besottedness, maybe? Either way, it made his face heat up to the tips of his ears and his feet wiggle.

 “Yes?”

 “Yeah, let’s do it.”

 “Okay!” Remus let out a relieved laugh that bordered on a giggle, “When?”

 “I end classes at one tomorrow.” 

 The man murmured his way through timezone math for a moment. “Yeah! Yeah, okay! I can do that! Yes!”

 Virgil bit his lip, but a laugh made its way through anyways. “I can’t wait.”

 -----------

 Whatever confidence Virgil had developed the day before, it had completely evaporated by the next morning. His mind wandered during classes, too busy coming up with worst case scenarios. What if the connection sucked? What if they spoke over each other and it was awkward? What if they had nothing to talk about and it got awkward? What if they weren’t compatible face to face? It added a whole new layer to their relationship they hadn’t explored before.

 What if they weren’t friends by the end of it? 

 He was equal parts relieved and petrified when his final class ended and there was nothing between him and the call. The whole walk back to his dorm was spent watching the numbers on the clock tick by, each minute sending a rush of adrenaline through him until he was sure he’d collapse from nerves right there on the path way. 

A text from Remus came through three minutes before their agreed time.

 Remus: Ready?

 NO, he wanted to scream. There were too many variables, they were leaving the comfort zone and that’s where Virgil thrived!

 Virgil: 5 mins

 He set up his computer and paced around his room for the remainder of his time. His eyes caught a blur of motion in the mirror and he turned to his reflection, his flapping hands slowing as he studied the face before him as he’d done hundreds of times before. Not his face, but the only one he knew as his.

A part of him was suddenly weighed by guilt as he looked into those bright eyes, because the guiltier part of him knew what he had was a crush. A helpless one, at that. And a hopeless one. What was the point pining after someone when the universe had already handpicked someone else for him? 

Stupid universe and it’s stupid soulmates. 

The chime of an incoming call startled him out of his reverie and he swore under his breath. He tried to soothe down his hair, rub the stress from his eyes, but it was hopeless when he couldn’t see if it actually looked okay.

He sat in his desk chair and took a few measured breaths before clicking accept. The video stuttered and glitched before it finally settled, and Virgil’s breath caught in his throat. 

 Black hair streaked with white.

 Sharp green eyes.

 A smattering of freckles over olive skin. 

 The silence stretched between them for achingly long before Remus beamed into the camera, and it was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen.

 “Well, hello there, soulmate.”

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

[happyandticklish]

A Matter Of Spirits

Notes: Does anyone actually want a Dorian Gray fic? Probably not. Am I going to write one anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely. I do have a fic request that I’m editing right now, so that’s also coming soon. Based off the book, not any of the film adaptations. 

Summary: When Dorian refuses to sit for a painting, Basil turns to Henry for assistance. 

“Dorian. Please.”

The other continued to slump in his seat, staring off into the distance in that irritating, brooding fashion of his. This had been going on for a while now, no matter how Basil attempted to persuade the other. Dorian was in a mood which meant he would not sit for the painter and he most certainly wouldn’t smile. Normally, Basil was patient with Dorian’s swinging fancies, leading him to great heights of euphoria one moment and the depths of despair in the next, but today was different.

The painting wasn’t for himself this time. A client had offered a great price for it, a sum that left the struggling artist dazzled. Normally, he didn’t sell portraits of Dorian—they were his secret joy, a beauty he could admire without the prying eyes of others. But that much could not be ignored, and so Basil had decided to make an exception, just this once.

Unfortunately, it appeared his plans were going to be ruined if Dorian continued to act like this. Basil’s brow pinched in annoyance and exhaustion as Dorian fell back against the couch, one arm thrown over his face, the very picture of agony.

“It’s just one painting,” Basil tried again, trying to force his voice to take on an appealing tone. “One painting and then you can go about your tantrum.”

“It isn’t a tantrum,” came Dorian’s muffled protest. “How can you expect me to pose when I’m miserable?”

“I hardly think the situation calls for one to be miserable—”

“My favorite pair!” Dorian interrupted, sitting up suddenly to glare stricken at the other. He pointed to his pants, which now spotted a rather unfortunate blue ink splot. “Ruined. It’ll probably never come out, and even if it does, there will be a stain, and then where will I be? How am I to go on with stained trousers?”

Basil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was true that the paint might not come out, but Dorian was not one who could be accused of having a low supply of nice apparel. He had dozens of other pairs, all fairly similar in style. There was no need to get so worked up about the accident. Nevertheless, Basil knew if he put it like that his painting would never come about.

“What’s all this about?”

The pair turned to find Lord Henry strolling idly into the room, one hand poised elegantly on his cane. He was always elegant, no matter what the setting. Basil would have been impressed by it if he didn’t find it so irritating. Henry glanced between Dorian, distraught on the couch, Basil, standing next to an empty canvas, and finally at the empty chair in the middle of the room where Dorian would under normal circumstances be posing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Henry,” Basil said, a note of relief to his voice at the presence of his friend. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I let myself in. Dorian, whatever is the matter? You look as though poor old Basil here has just made an attempt on your life.”

Dorian sniffed, tilting his chin up petulantly. “He has, at least to me. Look at this!” He pointed to the stain, as though that itself should have been cause for outrage from the other.

Henry blinked, before nodding slowly. “I see. He has… stained your pants? To what end?”

“It was an accident,” Basil explained, crossing his arms. “I was showing Dorian some of the new colors I had got brought in recently, and a bit got on him, that’s all. He’s overreacting.”

“Ruined,” Dorian repeated with a lack of anything else to say in his defense.

Henry balanced his cane on the edge of the sofa, coming to take a seat beside the other. He examined the stain carefully, making sure to glance at it from all angles. Basil and Dorian watched him, both waiting to hear whose side he would take. Finally, he leaned back, clapping his hands together definitively. “Why, Dorian, you have nothing to worry about! It’s only a little stain, and hardly noticeable at that. A quick wash ought to fix it.”

Dorian fixed him with a suspicious glance, but it was difficult to doubt Henry, and finally a bit of hope came into his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Henry assured him. “Now, come, you’re being ridiculous. Sit for Basil. He only wants a portrait, nothing more. Surely you can accomplish that?”

Dorian looked as though he were on the edge of giving in, but finally he turned his face aside stubbornly. “I can’t. The mood is ruined. I can’t pose when my spirits are so low. I’ll look dreadful.”

Basil threw his hands up in frustration, ready to give up altogether and try again tomorrow, though he knew it would heavily delay the process. Henry, however, was not deterred. “A matter of low spirits, you say?”

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and all at once Basil realized his plan, recognizing the look from years of being around the other. Dorian had not yet experienced Henry’s fullproof method for cheering one up, and so he simply frowned in puzzlement, reluctantly glancing back at the other.

“What is it?” he asked apprehensively. “Why do you look like that? Henry, what—hey!”

Dorian’s next words were overtaken by a surprised giggle as Henry’s hands found their way suddenly to his sides. He squirmed back against the couch, weakly attempting to bat the other away. “W-Wahait, noho!”

“I’m simply raising your spirits, nothing more,” Henry replied calmly, expertly maneuvering against the clothing protecting the other and finding each and every spot that had Dorian desperate to get away. “After all, you’re laughing, aren’t you?”

Dorian was, quite a lot at that, and the sound was breathtaking as Basil listened and watched the scene unfold. His laughter had always been uproarious, a carefree, wild sound that brought to mind the joy of childhood; Dorian had never been one to hide away his emotions, always feeling and existing in his truest self. But now that same laughter took on a more frantic cadence, breaking off into fits of giggles and every once in a while a sudden shriek when Henry hit a good spot. It was unreasonably endearing, and Basil felt a blush fighting its way onto his features. He knew he should look away or help—though whether he was to help Dorian or Henry he couldn’t say—but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

Dorian was a mess of limbs, his outfit thoroughly rumpled by this point, something that he would have cared about if he wasn’t so focused on the way Henry’s fingers skillfully climbed his ribs. “P-Plehehehease, Ihihihi’ll dihihie!”

“I’m certain you shall be fine, there’s no need for dramatics,” Henry dismissed, working around Dorian’s attempts to shove him off. “Besides, to die of laughter would be a worthy death in my opinion.”

Basil scoffed at the vague poetry, stepping in and placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Don’t you think he’s had enough?”

“That is up to Dorian himself,” Henry replied, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous delight.  “Well? What do you say, my friend? Are you significantly cheered up yet?”

In truth, Dorian could already feel his poor mood dissipating, but despite this he continued to persist. “Of course not,” he huffed, grabbing at Henry’s wrists finally and holding them firmly. “This is ridiculous, I am not still a child. I have no time for such silly behavior.”

“And yet you were certainly acting like one earlier,” Basil commented without thinking, and Dorian shot him a betrayed look.

“Basil is right,” Henry agreed. “Which is why he’ll be assisting me. I can’t have you squirming around so much, you’ll only get in the way. Basil, his arms please.”

Basil snapped his head up, having not expected to get brought into this. “Well, I don’t think—”

“Basil is far too soft-hearted for this torture,” Dorian interrupted before he could finish. “He is not so bold or ruthless as you.”

The comment worked better than anything Henry could have said to convince him, and in the next moment Basil was on the couch behind him, slipping his hands under the other’s arms and securing them in a tight grip. “Henry, proceed.”

Dorian’s eyes went wide as he realized his predicament, and he surged against the hold to no avail. “Wait, hold on, there’s no need—ahAHA!”

His words broke off into wild cackling as Henry continued his attack, wiggling his fingers with quick, deft gestures under his arms. “Feeling anymore cooperative now?” Henry teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Thihihihis ihihis cruhuhuel!” Dorian protested, his actions growing more desperate as the vulnerable spot was continuously pursued. Yet no matter how he thrashed, there was no escape. “Bahahahasil!”

“Yes Dorian?” Basil asked, growing more confident in his actions as he listened to the sweet giggles, and the delighted expression that Dorian was doing a poor job at hiding. “Going to me for help will do you no good, not after all you’ve put me through this afternoon. I’m afraid you’re simply going to have to face the consequences of your actions.”

“Mehehehean!” Dorian kicked his legs out uselessly, throwing his head back into Basil’s chest. He jerked suddenly when Henry’s fingers began to travel, pinching up and down his ribs. His laughter pitched several octaves, and his hands flapped about, attempting to grab hold of anything that would help him out. “AhAHAHA, HEHEHENRY!”

“Dorian, please, calm yourself,” Henry said, shaking his head. “You are causing quite the ruckus, what if the neighbors hear?”

Dorian could hardly reply, too lost in his own laughter. Each tweak or prod of his ribs had him spasming, his layers doing little to protect him. The spot appeared to be unbearably ticklish, worse even than the cruel scribbling under his arms. Dorian was no stranger to his own sensitivity, a fact which had been brought to his attention in stark clarity when he was a child, but he hadn’t been tickled in many years and he was unprepared for just how intense it could be.

Finally, he managed to form enough coherency to spew a stream of giggly protests. “I-Ihihihihi dehehehehemand thahahahat—ehehehe, aha—thahahahat yohohou stahahahap ahahahahat ohohonce! Ihihihi wihihihill—ah! Heh, nahaha, nohoho! I wihihihill gehehehet m-my, mihihi—stahahap ihihihit, nahahahat thehehere!”

“You’re not making any sense, I’m afraid,” Henry informed him sympathetically. “Really, I have spoken with you about the benefits of proper articulation before, there’s no need to stammer so. Basil, can you understand a word of what he’s saying?”

“I can’t say I do,” Basil replied, and suddenly his own fingers had been added into the mix, scribbling over the edges of his armpits from where he held him tight. Dorian shrieked, unprepared for the double assault, and burst into a round of cursing as his laughter advanced to an even more frantic pitch. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep encouraging him until he remembers the proper form of speech.”

Red had begun to creep across Dorian’s features as well, a testament to the teasing that was slowly working to unravel with along with the tickling. With that, his stubbornness finally caved. “Ohohohokay, OHOHohohohokay, I-I’ll sihihihihit!”

Henry and Basil exchanged a pleased glance and collectively sat back, releasing Dorian to wrap his arms around himself in a giggly pile between them. After he had regained his breath somewhat, Dorian managed a half-hearted glare in Henry’s direction. “That was wholly uncalled for.”

“Are your spirits not cheered?” Henry pointed out. “You cannot convince me you weren’t enjoying yourself. You’ve never been one to give in so easily to something you weren’t willing to engage in.”

Dorian blushed, sitting up straight and adjusting his jacket with a cough. “That is ridiculous, Henry, utterly ridiculous. I did nothing of the sort. And to think I thought you were a man of intelligence.”

Henry raised a wry brow, shrugging his shoulders. “If that is what you must tell yourself, I will let you believe it for now. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I won’t discover the truth on a later occasion, however.”

Dorian’s stomach flipped not unpleasantly at the idea, but he merely scoffed, springing from the sofa and bounding over to the sitting chair. “Well, if I’m going to sit, I’m going to need a change of outfit at once. Look at me, I look positively tousled, like I’ve been out in a storm!”

Basil watched him as he continued to waltz about the room, making endless comments about dress and hair, but with a far more agreeable air than before. “Thank you,” he whispered gratefully to Lord Henry, who startled at the sound, tearing his gaze away from Dorian where it had previously been taken.

“Yes, of course old friend, always happy to help. Although you might be careful he doesn’t discover your weakness as well.”

He reached over and tweaked Basil’s side playfully. Basil yelped, having not expected the sudden attack, and batted away his hand quickly. He flushed, glaring at him. “Quiet down with that, will you? For your information, that is not information that will be getting out anytime soon.”

“Basil! I can hardly paint this portrait by myself now can I?”

Basil’s attention immediately snapped back to the other, and he rose to his feet, offering an obliging smile as he made his way over. “No, you cannot. You would make a miserable artist.”

The two continued to talk and bicker contentedly as Basil helped him fix his hair which had gotten tangled in the earlier tussle. Henry watched them with a knowing smile, certain they would figure themselves out. Perhaps not that day, but eventually. After all, they must do it in their own time.

Henry slipped out quietly while they talked, allowing them to have the day to themselves. 

Maybe one day, he thought with a gentle smile. 

[obeymeluv]

Quick! Kiss Me! [Part 2 - Lucifer]

So originally this was supposed to be multiple brothers per part but this got unexpectedly long and I only had the energy to get through Lucifer. I’ll definitely get to the other brothers. This project may take priority over the others until I get them all out. I know what I’ll be doing for Mammon’s, sort of for Levi’s, definitely for Satan’s, definitely for Beel’s, and I’m not quite 100% on Belphie’s or Asmo’s. Honestly, they’re not all supposed to get this long, but this one had some lead up + Lucifer. The other ones will probably be a couple of paragraph’s, maybe a page at most.

Note: The Thrall/The Call is something that came up in a Diavolo piece forever ago. Can’t even remember which one because I had to go back and find it myself. It’s basically one of their tell-tale signs they’re trying to seduce someone or flirt with someone.

Some of these kiss scenarios will get a little NSFW because the bros get to kiss you, have a crush on you, and are excited dorks. Everything under the cut just to be safe.

Any bolded italics are your/MC’s thoughts since you can’t currently speak.

Quick! Kiss Me! [Part 2]

--

After a few awkward moments of the brothers standing around, their hearts squeezing in their chests as they tried to hold back their individual Thralls to make your choice more neutral, they realized their wouldn’t be a choice. There couldn’t be. The lip color was too scrambled to work in such a small space with that many people. You’d just barely blinked and the brothers skittered off at inhumane speeds that made your skin crawl; in your human brain it was very much those ‘distant echoes of horror movie noises one should never hear.’ Lucifer turned so abruptly his cape snapped; he melted seamlessly into the natural darkness hiding around the House of Lamentation.

That was the starting gun for the others to disperse.

Belphie exploded into black wispy shadows, sinking into the floor. Asmodeus stretched his wings again, flapping leisurely towards his room as he blew you a teasing kiss. Satan’s eyes, somehow greener and more bewitching than ever, hesitated to leave you as he retreated up the steps, made it about three before deciding to jog, and finally teleported towards the top and around the corner, hints of his horns and a brief whip of his tail following him. A skin-prickling rumble sounded soon after; the fourth-born had embarrassed himself.

Levi sought the privacy of his room, as to be expected. He would die if he kissed you ANYWAYS, but to kiss you in front of his brothers?! He’d rather have a conversation with a stranger! Gross! He was more than happy to get his red face out of view and mumble…whatever he was talking about…into his handheld console.

Only Beel and Mammon remained.

You looked at them curiously, brows raised. Beel gave you his casual smile, a little humming laugh at this situation, and promptly picked Mammon up by the collar of his jacket as they walked away from the foyer area. It was clear the second-born would lounge around and maybe try to sucker into kissing him first. You’d like to think Beel was forcing him to hide so the lip color could give you an accurate reading, but you’d always wondered if the kind, ever-hungry brother got jealous. If he did, he never showed it (and for a guy with six brothers, that was impressive).

Brain and body calmed by the emptiness, by the fact that they were somewhere in the house, you set off on your quest for a kiss. No one’s going to believe this, you rolled your eyes, starting towards the right wing when a gust of cold air overtook you. A chilly numbness set in, nipping at your fingertips and pulsing in your lips and face enough to give you a headache. Not that way, you turned away sharply, the cold receding as you moved in the other direction. Some people have really cute ‘how did you meet?’ stories and mine was getting tricked into magic demon makeup that my boyfriend had to free me from, as you found yourself in the middle of a random hallway an aggravating realization set in: the House of Lamentation was so ornate and old that all the hallways looked the same.

Same walls, same tone of polished furniture, same light fixtures, and the carpeting was a given.

Hadn’t you already been down this hall?! Why was it when you really needed to find one of SEVEN people, you couldn’t find any of them?! You felt like you’d walked the whole house! The House of Lamentation was far bigger than it looked on the outside (was that even possible?) and now you were beginning to think the brothers picked the very corners of the house! You were honestly surprised the brothers hadn’t come looking for you. Some small part of you was too amused and couldn’t help but smile at the fact that centuries-old demons were freaking out and pacing in their hiding spots like schoolboys fixing to go on an overnight trip with their crush.

You shuffled forward, wondering what a positive response felt like. Time alone to just think was really odd, especially with how chaotic the Devildom could be, but it led to some really interesting thoughts. No one would believe the ‘magic demon makeup’ part of your story but you could lie and say it was a really intense game of Hot and Cold. Any of them would make good boyfriends, you admitted to yourself, glad none of them were around to see the pink in your cheeks. If one of them popped up, you’d just lie and blame it on the warm tingle prickling at your lips.

A warm tingle?! That was a lot like what you felt when your lips were sealing shut! You spun in a startled circle, not sure when the feeling began, and desperately tried for a stronger reaction. A prickle became a tingly bubble, like a glass of champagne going to your head too fast, and soon your body felt like it was floating, rolling on waves upon waves of a butterflies-in-my-stomach that washed you up in front of a door.

Inside you found…

Lucifer sitting at his desk, half-heartedly pouring over paperwork. You pushed the heavy door open, feeling like you’d pulled the curtain back on a privacy charm, and wiggled past the old wood. The lazy tapping of whatever he was writing with stopped, the eldest perking up like someone had set him free of the eternal coil of paperwork. If you hadn’t been looking at him while trying to pull your other leg through, you would’ve missed the boyish glow of hope, the they picked me! It’s me!, that was promptly devoured by his blossoming pride.

Face propped up on a gloved wrist, now lounging confidently back against his chair as his other wrist dangled off the arm, Lucifer invited you in with a sly smile and a beckoning roll of his fingers. You rolled your eyes. We both saw your heart stop. You don’t need this ‘tall, dark, and dom’ fake allure, you waved your hands about to emphasize the ‘allure’ as you flashed him a well-meaning smile. You felt pretty confident knowing you could fluster the first born, the one with the sin of pride.

It was actually really heart-warming to know he was so eager to be yours.

“This is no act, I assure you.” Lucifer abandoned his cloak on the back of the chair, undoing it with one hand as he rose to meet you. His wings unfurled slowly and softly, ever majestic, and feathered out to their full length. They shuddered and fluttered, blowing a gentle air about the room. His eyes, normally a gradient of red and black, looked completely red. Lucifer’s pupils had taken on some slit-like appearance that had flecks of black rimming the sides.

A purr rolled in his chest, something quiet but confident, enticing, as he waited for your hand. You found yourself hypnotized by his eyes—maybe for real?—dropping your hand delicately into his. The leather folded around your skin and you couldn’t look away, even as he brought it close to his chest and then higher still, like he’d put it on his shoulder. To pull you into a kiss as dramatic as this—in the quiet only surrounded by the sound of his wings and a purr and the fire crackling in the back of the room—was very Lucifer.

You stood on tiptoe, looking up at him expectantly. Hell, you even batted your eyelashes to really get at him.

WHAT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Lucifer’s lips brushed your knuckles again in a stuttering kiss. He placed a few more open-mouthed kissed up your finger before the laughter took over him again. He knew exactly what he was doing, just like he knew what he was doing when he smoothed his hair back away from his face. “Have I left you speechless, my dear?” he’d started to stand to his full height, shit-eating smirk on his lips. His voice was wrapped in a sultry purr that was undoubtedly the first sin mankind ever heard.

That cool façade was strangled in the grip you had on his folded collar, bringing the first-born nose-to-nose with you. Lucifer was hardly intimidated by your glare but oh you were very darling.

BECAUSE YOU CAN’T AIM! Your nostrils flared as you pouted a bit. You’re supposed to kiss me HERE! You pointed to your lips.

“I can’t aim?” Lucifer’s wings twitched, probably in indignation. Were you implying he couldn’t do something? His lips twisted upwards in a little huff, the beginnings of a sneer even. All of that melted away when that large hand cupped the back of your head, fingers twining in your hair. You’d just registered the sensation when he brought your lips to his, head tilted and savoring the kiss.

It was a long with a slight suckle, the eldest truly indulging in this minuet of a moment compared to the usual chaos of his daily existence. He felt you sag against him, hooking his other arm around your waist to stumble towards his desk. You were an awkward clatter of bones against him, chest-to-chest, and one leg falling out of the chair, but you managed.

“This was how it was supposed to be,” Lucifer confessed softly, sitting you in the space he’d cleared for you. Literally. You just now realized the scant space on his desk was big enough for you to sit. He dragged the chair forward, your legs naturally coming to rest against the padded backing on either side of his waist. Lucifer tucked some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek. “I wanted to kiss you this way,” but my pride got the best of me, he didn’t dare finish saying it, but he thought it.

You felt your lips open, swollen and beautifully tender. To breathe through them felt weird. They still tingled with the after-effect of the enchantment. Lucifer watched you lick your lips experimentally, draw in a breath, and allowed himself to be drawn in, too. You shared a few more languid kisses before his D.D.D started to go off.

You saw Mammon’s icon pop up, then Asmo’s. The brothers were looking for you. “That reminds me,” Lucifer patted your thigh before pushing himself away. He stole another kiss before rounding the corner of his desk. He opened the door just slightly, stepped out of the room, and bellowed something in demon tongue that had a clear message of finality ringing in the house. Whatever he’d said made him lock the door to his study with a quickness, a crimson spell burning into the wood.

Looking very much like a smug older brother, Lucifer dropped himself elegantly back in his chair. One hand situated your legs just as they had been, the other one pulling you close for good measure. He coaxed you into a few kittenish kisses, flinching against your lips when the banging started. You could hear Mammon complaining outside the door. A spell fizzled against the door; seems like Belphegor or Satan had fired one off. Content and exhausted, he found purchase in the curve of your neck, enjoying the silence and your scent.

“We’ll get through this.” You combed your fingers through his hair. You’d have to face the brothers eventually.

“I look forward to it.” Lucifer kissed your shoulder.