#they put jimmy in this shirt of all people

[hotasfahrenheit]

Me less than an hour ago: wow wardrobe for Last Twilight is doing such a good job, attention to details 👏👏👏👏

Last Twilight wardrobe: you bet we are

[kyleoreillylover]

𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 🖤

Dominik Mysterio x Fem!Bloodline!Reader

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” + “Take out your anger on me. I can handle it."

Summary: Your family is pissing you off, and Dominik is more than happy to let you take your anger out on him.

A/N: Dominik brain rot is real and this is the result of it (this took so long 😭) and was inspired by the gif below. This is my first smut and probably my last, so please be nice! Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,016

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing, family drama.

You sighed as you rubbed your temples, closing your eyes for a moment and feeling the incoming headache about to come as the room got louder and louder with anger. You opened your eyes to see Roman and Jimmy still arguing, yelling and getting closer and closer to each other. Jey was sitting in the corner, jaw clenched as he let them get into it. Solo was standing next to you, keeping a watchful eye on them in case things got out of hand. Your eyes met, and you can tell by the look in his eye he was done with all this shit too.

Why couldn't they talk this out like men instead of acting like children? You thought, rolling your eyes. You snapped out of your thoughts when Jimmy pushed Roman into the corner, all of you quickly getting up to separate them.

"You guys need to stop this!" You shouted angrily as you and Jey held Jimmy back, Solo trying to calm Roman down but to no avail.

"No, he needs to stop being a manipulative asshole! Apologize for losing? Acting like you wouldn't have lost without our help. My help. I ain't apologizing for shit, ‘Tribal Chief'!"

"Jimmy, chill out!" Jey tried, but Roman's laugh echoed throughout the room, and Jimmy tried to get out of our grips.

"Nah, let him run his mouth. You don't see your brothers acting like this, huh? Or your sister? You know why they aren't acting like this? Because they know that I am right, they know that you disgraced everybody. You disgraced this family, your ancestors, your legacy, and me, your Tribal Chief. You need to apologize for them, but most importantly, you will apologize to me."

"I ain't apologizing for anything! You wouldn't have even been Tribal Chief if it weren't for us, uce! You were a disgrace until we helped you get to the top! So if I am gonna apologize to anyone, I'ma apologize to myself for helping you get there in the first place!" Jimmy spat out, nostrils flaring as he clenched his fists, continuing to try and break out of our grip. You felt all the patience slip out of you in that very moment and you snapped, grabbing Jimmy’s shirt and pushing against the wall.

"You all need to shut the fuck up!" You screamed, Jimmy becoming lax in your grip with a look of shock on his face, the others quiet in shock as well. Finally, they shut up.

“You need to put your ego’s in check and start acting like men instead of acting like children!” You yelled furiously, scowling at them.

"He needs to-" Jimmy began, but you gave him a glare that could kill and he shut his mouth.

"You both need to stop trying to be right and start talking to each other like grown ass people. You need to stop holding grudges and let shit go. " You hissed, letting him go and turning towards Roman.

"And you need to keep your 'Tribal Chief' ego in check and stop crapping on people just because things don't go to plan." You snapped at him.

"Uce, calm down." Jey made his way towards you, trying to quell your anger before you said something Roman would make you regret, but you gave him a look and he backed away. You couldn't care less about Roman right now, he needed to hear the truth.

"Calm down? Are you kidding me?" You scoffed in disbelief.

"Don't you see what's happening? You're giving everybody what they want. They want to see us crumble, want to see our dominance fall so they could rise and take our top spot here."

You looked at Jimmy, seeing his face turn from anger to a mixture of embarrasment and relization."You're feeding into Sami and Kevin, letting them get in your heads. Why do you think they keep digging and digging? Because they want to keep those titles, and your basically ensuring they win by engaging with their stupid bullshit!"

You turned to Roman, who was stunned silent for the first time in a while. He had rarely seen you angry, even when you were kids. You were always the moral compass for the group, keeping their moral up with your caring energy. But you thought that now they needed the hard truth instead of caring words.

"And you need to stop letting your ego cloud your morals. Just because we're family doesn't mean you get a pass to be an asshole." Roman met your challenged gaze, still silent but didn't look as angry as before. Solo stood next to him, a stunned look on his usually stone-cold face as he watched you rip everybody to shreds with a tone you usually reserved for your rivals.

"You all are out of your mind if you think I'm letting everything I worked hard for go to waste because you don't want to get along. Get it together the next time I see you, I'm getting some air." You casted everyone a look before grabbing your jacket, slipping it on and leaving the room.

You franticly sped out of the arena, needing to just breathe and feel the cool night air on your skin. The fans were long gone by this time, so you didn't need to worry about being spotted. You sat on a bench, putting your head in your hands and trying to breathe through the haze of anger you felt suffocating you and coursing through your veins.

"Trouble in paradise?" You snapped out of your daze, already knowing who it was and not bothering to pick your head back up.

"Shut up, Dominik. I'm not in the mood." You mumbled loudly enough for him to hear. You heard him laugh, not taking you seriously. "Ooh, the full name this time. What happened to Dom? Am I in trouble?"

You picked your head up, glaring at him. "I said I'm not in the mood. Leave me alone and find someone else to bother."

He stopped laughing, realizing you weren't joking. "What happened?"

"None of your concern. Are you deaf? Leave. me. alone." You made a move to stand up, but he pushed you back down gently, sitting down next to you.

"Can you not be annoying for once and actually listen to me?" You spat at him, trying to stand up again but he grabbed your waist, restraining you.

"What happened?" He repeated, seeing your eyes glazed with anger. He had never seen you this mad outside of the ring before, and it made him unnerved for it to be directed at him. You were usually playful with him, sometimes having mean banter with your character work but you both didn't mean any of it. But you were never like this.

"Family business." You finally answered him, short and clipped. You tried looking away from him but he gently grabbed your cheek.

"Look at me, mi corazon." You tried to ignore the way the pet name made your stomach tighten with butterflies and listened to him, looking deep into his eyes, distracting yourself with his brown orbs that almost made you forget about your anger. Almost.

"What did your family do?" You felt the anger rush back and you mockingly chuckled. “Jimmy and Roman keep starting arguments on literally anything instead of focusing on winning. Now everybody thinks were weak and vulnerable, even though I've done nothing but pull my weight!" You huffed out, breaking out of his grip and standing up, clenching your fists. You muttered to yourself angrily, wanting to scream, hit something, do anything to let out the frustration gnawing at you.

But Dominik stood up with you, grabbing your wrists, and yanking you back into his arms. You scowled at him, trying to pull away from him. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you breathe, mi vida.” He held your wrists in one hand and grabbed your face with the other, softly caressing your face, his heartbeat and husky smell of his cologne invading your scenes.

“Look at me, mi amor.” Dominik instructed, his brown eyes gazing into yours as you ignored the way your stomach churned everytime he spoke Spanish to you and kept trying to pull your wrists away from him. But he opted for letting go of your face, bringing your head into his chest, and you felt his hot breath near your ear as he nuzzled his head into your neck. "Cálmate, carino."

Screw him and his stupidly hot Spanish. You felt yourself melt into him, some calmness washing over you the longer you were in his arms. He let go of your wrists, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, shivering when he laid feather-light kisses onto your neck.

Dominik continued kissing your neck, loving the feeling of you in his arms and shivering under his touch. He waited for your breathing to slow down to let you go, but he wrapped an arm around your waist, not wanting you out of arms reach.

"You better now, sweetheart?" You nodded, you still felt that haze of anger but it wasn't at strong as before. "I need words, baby.”

"I'm better now, Dom." You grabbed his free hand and held it, relishing in the smile he gave you.

"I can tell now that you called me Dom." You rolled your eyes playfully at his smirk and grabbed the hand that was around your shoulder and held it, relishing in the smile he gave you.

“Do you have a ride back? Dominik asked, to which you shook your head. “I was too mad at the boys to drive with them, so I’ma just get an uber-”

“You’re riding with me.” You gave him an amused smile at his demanding tone, it was usually the other way around.

“You sure you don't need mami's permission for that?" You giggled when he yanked you closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, his forhead leaning against yours and his lips so, so close to yours.

"You know more than anyone I don't need her permission." Dom pushed his lips onto yours, kissing away your smirk and losing himself in the taste of you. God, you were addicting.

You kissed him slowly at first-as if you wanted to torture him-and he hated and loved you for it. He groaned into your mouth when you snuck a hand up to his hair, pulling it just the way you knew he liked it and kissing him even harder, your tongue slipping into his mouth. His fingers dug into your waist almost painfully as you clung to him, his touch burning your skin in the best way and you pulled his hair harder in response.

You pulled away first, the both of you panting and out of breath. You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling brightly at him when he leaned into your touch. You felt the heat creep back up looking at him, his hair slightly touseled and his muscles showing through his dark black tee. You felt the urge to kiss him again, so you did. He laughed into your lips, letting you steal another kiss before pulling away. “I meant what I said before. I'm not letting you go into a random car by yourself in the middle of the night just because you're mad at your idiot brothers."

"They are not idiots."

"They are if they decided to make you angry." You laughed, playfully nudging him, and he grinned before brushing your hair out of your face. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him gaze at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart." You bit your lip, struggling to choose between your stubbornness or giving in to what you want. As if sensing your internal conflict, Dominik caressed your face, running his thumb over your lips, making you break out of your stupor. He smirked when you instinctively parted your lips, it’d been too long yet your bodies still remembered each other.

"Please?" You couldn't refuse him, not when he was looking at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to think of.

"Fine, but I get to have the aux." Music was the last thing on your mind, but he didn't need to know that. At least not right now.

"Deal, but only cause you have great taste."

"You're right. I do have great taste." You eyed him up and down, winking at him and giving him a smirk that made him utterly weak for you. "Lead the way. You're driving."

The drive was quiet, music playing softly in the background as you put a hand on Dom's thigh, inching higher and higher the closer you got to the hotel. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he tried to get himself under control. You grinned seeing him like this, letting you be in charge. You needed to release your anger and have a stress reliever, and he was more than willing to let you use him as one. It wouldn't be the first time.

Before you knew it, you were at the hotel. You kept your hands to yourself until you went into the elevator, and as soon as its doors closed, you were all over Dominik, gripping his shirt and pushing him against the wall, giving him a searing kiss.

He welcomed it, kissing you back just as hard, moaning into your mouth when you bit his lip. He grabbed your legs and hoisted you onto his waist as if you weighed nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself get dizzy in his arms, letting out a whine when he slid his tongue against your lip to draw it between his teeth. Your mind switched off, and all you could do was feel feel feel. Feel his bruising grip on your legs, his lips nibbling and biting any part of your mouth he can find, the heat growing in between your legs, his muscles flexing underneath your arms as you both turned each other into a writhing mess.

Your back hit something cold, and you pushed Dom away instinctively and opened your eyes, realizing you were in front of the hotel room. He whined at the loss of contact, his mouth moving to your neck, and you groaned and arched into him when he sucked a sensitive spot behind your ear.

"Fuck, do that again." You demanded, trying to keep your voice steady as you leaned your head on the wall, giving him more access to your neck. Dom let out an airy chuckle. You were hot when you got bossy. "Whatever you want, Mamacita." He murmured into your skin, obeying and kissing that same spot, trying to distract himself from the way your whines and whimpers were going straight to his dick long enough to get his keycard and open the room.

He brought you both into the room, setting you on the bed, hovering over you, and capturing your lips with his. Any coherent thoughts he had melted away as you deepened the kiss, distracting him with your tongue hot and probing in his mouth.

You took this opportunity to roll the both of you over and switch your positions, not breaking the kiss. You laid on top of him, gripping his shoulders for balance, and grinded your hips against his, internally smirking when Dominik threw his head back, hissing. You did that again, and again and again until he gripped your hips to stop you.

“Too much?” You asked, leaning down to kiss his neck, enjoying him writhing against you. He shook his head, but he could still see the hesitation in your eyes as you stopped kissing his neck. He snuck his hands underneath your jacket and shirt, rubbing circles onto your soft skin, feeling you relax into him.

"Don't be afraid to take your anger out on me. I can handle it." You picked your head up at those words, moving off from him and giving him a questioning look, wanting to be sure he wasn't uncomfortable. He gave you a sexy smirk that had you internally melting in response, shrugging off his shirt. You took off your own, muscled chest heaving as he eyed your bloodline jacket you threw across the room.

"You'd look better in my jacket." You rose a challenging brow, taking off your bra, smirking when Dom's head snapped down to your chest. You leaned down to his ear, sneaking your hand down to his jeans. Your boobs were pressed against his chest and hot breath against his skin making him shiver. You knew just how to drive him crazy.

"Treat me right tonight and maybe I will wear it." You nipped his skin harshly and palmed his dick at the same time. A moan ripped out of him as he arched into your hand, the last strand of composure he had slipping away from him as you continued to palm him.

"Ahh, please, please...don't stop." He pleaded, the rough material of his jeans rubbing into him deliciously and your hands already felt so good. You were making him feel like he was in heaven and you'd barely even begun.

He whined when you moved your hand away, trying to buck his hips up but you pushed his hips down, giving him a glare. "Did I tell you to move?"

"I'm sorry, mi amor-" Dom tried to mutter out as an apology, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

"I'll let it slide this time, but don't do it again. Did you forget that I'm in charge tonight, mi cielo?" He shook his head, his skin heating up and dick getting harder at your words. If speaking Spanish drove you absolutely crazy, imagine how it made him feel.

"Good. Now take off your pants." He obeyed, and you moved off him so he could sit up and pull them off. Once they were off, you moved on top of him, sitting on his chest. He gave you a pleading look, hands itching to touch you. You nodded, and his lips went to suck one of your boobs, his hands massaging your other one.

"Ahh...fuck Dom." You moaned out, the heat between your thighs only intensifying at the feeling of his warm mouth and soft lips sucking on your nipple. You tangled your fingers through his soft hair, biting your lip to contain your moans so the entirety of the hotel filled with wrestlers and your friends didn't hear you. He licked and nibbled at it making you arch your back and stifle your moans. He smirked into your skin, flicked your other nipple until it hardened, before biting and sucking his way down your chest and belly, your skin on fire from his touch.

Before his hands could travel lower, you pressed your hand against his chest. He quickly pulled away once he felt you pushing him, concerned eyes scanning your body for any injury or discomfort.

"Are you okay, Hermosa? Did I hurt you?" He asked, giving you another once over before you cupped his face to stop making him worriedly look into your eyes.

“No baby, you’d never hurt me.” You gave him a comforting look, reassuring him. He looked into your eyes for anything that said otherwise, and once he found none he let out an internal sigh of relief, letting himself lean into your touch. As much of an asshole he made himself to be on TV, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable.

You smiled when he leaned into your touch, stroking his cheek. You loved seeing this side of him he only reserved for you.

“I just thought you’d like it better like this.” You pushed him until his back hit the bed, straddling him. He groaned when you hovered over his face, his lips inches away from tasting your glistening wet pussy.

“Fuck, are you trying to kill me, mami?” Dom whined out, his voice husky with need as he gripped your thighs, trying to pull you down. You held onto the headboard before he could, stopping his attempts. “Please, let me taste you, mami.” He pleaded, giving you puppy dog eyes that you would fall for in any other circumstance. But you'll give him what he wants soon enough.

“Listen to me and I will.” You smirked at how quickly he quieted down at that, nodding at you. “This night is about me. I'm in control. Don't forget that, and maybe, I'll give you a reward. You understand, baby?”

"I understand, mi amor," Dom answered, his voice almost turning into a whine as he tried to control himself from yanking you and tasting you, he didn't want to risk a punishment from you.

"Good boy.” You cooed, the nickname and your sickly sweet tone making his cock harden even more. But he didn't have time to think about it because you were lowering yourself down, sitting on his face.

Your knees buckled and you immediately let out a moan as Dom sucked your clit harshly, hungrily eating you out and groaning into your pussy, making you moan even more.

It was like an out of body experience; you didn't register the moans coming out of you as he licked and toyed with your clit, egged on by the pretty sounds coming out of you. You grinded your face against him when he licked up and down your cunt, his tongue lapping at your folds. He gripped your thighs even tighter, and let you grip his hair and use him as you pleased.

Your moans got more high pitched and shakier as he used his mouth and strong jaw to work every inch of you, holding you tighter as you squirmed against him. He could tell you were getting closer to he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again, causing you to moan loudly and thread your fingers into the sheets. "F- fuck, oh my god, don't stop, Dom." You cried out.

"I don't plan on it, baby. " He mumbled, his words muffled under your pussy. You moaned at the vibrations of his voice that felt so good against your pussy and sent shivers straight up your spine, threatening to send you over the edge. He noticed your reaction and continued to mumble incoherently as his tongue played with your clit, making you get closer and closer to your high.

You shut your eyes when the pleasure became too much, clenching the sheets even tighter as you came with loud moans that sounded like music to Dom's ears. He helped you ride out your orgasm, licking and slurping your juices up until you were gripping his hair gently and trying to push him away.

Dominik tasted your pussy one last time before coming up to kiss you, smiling against your lips. He looked so pretty, hair matted and messy, his face red and lips soaked with your cum that you could taste as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

"Do I get my reward baby?" He asked, pulling away from the heated kiss, pupils blown out with lust. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his skin breaking out in goosebumps as your lips kissed his sensitive skin, meeting his lips again.

"Of course sweetie, as long as you promise to fuck me so hard I forget everything but you."

He gave you a devilish smile that made your lower body heat up again, and in one swift move scooped you up effortlessly and turned your positions around, smirking down at your naked form.

"I promise. And you know I don't break my promises, mi corazon." His voice dropped into a low sexy whisper, eyes never leaving you like he couldn't wait- needed- to have you right then and there. He gave you one last smirk before lowering down and kissing you with intensity, with passion, like he was trying to tell you all the ways you made him high on you, how you were like a drug that he couldn't let go even if he wanted to.

And as his hands lowered down again, and found that one spot that made your eyes roll back and his cock ache when your body arched into him as if you couldn't get enough of his fingers, he knew he definitely did not want to let you go.

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

You stirred awake gently, shifting under the sheets and feeling warmth surrounding you. Your tired limbs ached as you groggily turned, snuggling and trying to get closer to the heat, feeling a cool breath over your skin. It wasn't until you felt a soft, familiar breath against your neck that your eyes fluttered open, seeing Dominik 's face leaned in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

You smiled at his sleeping form that was cutely attached to you like a koala bear, like he couldn't get enough of you even while he was sleeping. You managed to move away from him just enough to get your phone from the nightstand, laughing quietly when Dom quickly pulled you back into his arms.

You snuggled back into his arms, turning on your phone and seeing the multiple missed calls and new messages you had come through from the twins, Paul and Solo, and surprisingly Rhea while your phone was silent while you and Dom were definitely the opposite. You didn't even bother opening Paul, Jimmy or Romans messages, you didn't have the energy for it.

You opened Rhea’s message first, the two of you were close but she only texted you for emergencies, so you were a bit worried.

DOM’S DOM So, did you and Dom Dom have fun last night?

You weren’t surprised. It was like she had a sixth sense for when you and Dom hooked up.

Yes, we did. I’m not even gonna ask how you know. Mami always knows sweetheart. Bit disappointed you didn’t come to my room though. I haven’t seen you in forever! I can see you later if you let me use you as a cover.. please? Can't exactly tell my brothers about Dominik, can I? You know I can’t say no to you and I can't resist seeing your cute little ass. Catch you later, princess. 🖤 Thank you! See you later babe💗

JEY<3

Yo sis, I know you still mad but I ain't asking you to talk to them, but at least let me know if you're safe or not.

You smiled at his concern, texting him back. He was one of the few in your family who didn't annoy you, aside from Solo.

Yeah, I'm good, just resting up. Just know I'm not mad at you though, just those two bozo heads. See you later <3

You then opened, and frowned, at Solo’s message.

Solo<3

So you with a guy?

There was no way he knew. You weren’t even at the same hotel?! Why and how the hell did he suspect it?

No, I was rooming with Rhea last night. Why are you asking? Just making sure you good. Roman’s kinda pissed at you. He wants to see you later. I’m good, and Roman can stay pissed for as long as he wants. I said nothing but the truth.

You shut your phone off, not wanting to think about your family acting like man children any longer.

You smiled and let out a sigh when you felt Dom trail kisses down on your neck, it was like he could read your mind. It was one the many things you loved about him; he knew what you needed before you yourself even knew. You leaned back, giving him more access to your neck, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. He continued kissing your skin for a few more moments before propping himself up and meeting your eyes, a soft smile on his face as he took you in.

“You sleep well, hermosa?” He asked with that husky morning voice you always wanted to wake up to as his eyes raked over your form, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin.

“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.” You admitted, giggling at the satisfied smirk that played on his lips.

"I'm glad I could tire you out." Dom teased you, smirk widening when you leaned closer to him to kiss him. Your fingers tracing a path down his chest as you slowly kissed him, savoring the taste of morning on his lips. His arms pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss as if trying to convey all the desire that had built up during the night.

Breaking the kiss, you traced your fingers lightly along the contours of his jawline, savoring the feel of his stubble beneath your touch. He relaxed into your touch, his hazel eyes gazing at you with a knowing look.

"Your idiot family still bothering you?" Dominik treaded lightly, not wanting to ruin the mood.

You rolled your eyes at the mention of them. "They aren't idiots." You gave him a pointed look when he lifted up a brow and he raised his hands up in defense. "But yes, Roman wanted to meet up with me."

"To apologize to you, right?" Dom moved away from you and sat up when he was met with silence and a guilty look. "Don't tell me your thinking of apologizing to him, mi corazon."

"I don't know, Dom," you sighed, also sitting up and running a hand across your face. "I know Jimmy will apologize to me, he loves me too much to stay mad at me. But Roman would rather drop dead than apologize. And it'll just cause tension if we act like we are in a cold war with each other."

Your heart hurt at the look Dominik was giving you, but you didn't know what else to do except reassure him. "Trust me, it's just easier this way."

"It would be easier if you just joined Judgment Day!"

You sighed and shook your head at Dominiks words. It wasn't the first time he brought it up, and it wouldn't be the last time you refused his offer either. After all those late nights hanging out after shows at Waffle House or other rendezvous activities you'd have, with the two of you cuddled up next to each other, away from the pressure of famous families and overzealous egos, when nothing else but the moon could shine a light on your innermost thoughts, was when he would gain the courage to ask you.

You always looked like you were close to considering it, but it would turn morning and all signs of even maybe accepting it would wash away and be replaced with fear and with you bringing up Roman. And he'd drop it, but he never understood why you did. He could protect you, give you the power you wanted with the Judgment Day! Why didn't you trust him? Why were you so scared of Roman?

"You know more than anyone I can't do that, Dom."

"But you can! You want to stay at the top, we can keep you there!" Dominik insisted, running a hand through his hair frustratingly. "The guys will like you, and Rhea already loves you! We won't treat you like Roman. He treats you like—"

"Like family." you finished his sentence, a hint of bitterness in your voice and a look Dominik couldn't place on your face. "And that's why I can't leave him. At least, not right now." 

Dominik perked up at your last sentence, his eyes searching yours for a hint of understanding. "Not right now?" he questioned, hope flickering in his gaze.

You gave him a small smile, the look in your eyes telling more than words could. "Not right now."

And that was all the confirmation he needed. He didn't need to know anything else- he knew you'd handle it and come to him when the time was right.

His smile mirrored yours as you moved closer to him, your tone shifted from serious to teasing, wanting to change the tense mood. "But until then, don't get in trouble with my family. Solo already suspects us, I don't need him trying to beat your ass."

Dominik laughed, wrapping an arm around you, the tension between you two dissipating as he responded, "Baby don't worry, you know I can take him."

You gave him an amused smile and leaned into him. "Oh, is that why you were hiding behind Rhea last night?"

Dominik chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I wasn't hiding behind her! I was just... checking out the best angle to hit him, y'know?"

"Mhm, whatever you say baby." You mocked him, giggling at the pout he gave you and deciding to kiss it off of him. Dominik couldn't help but smile against your lips as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving in sync with yours.

Breaking the kiss, you grinned up at him before looking up at the clock and seeing the time.

"Speaking of Rhea, I promise I would hang out with her later. So I better get out of bed before she beats me up." You barely made a move to get out of bed before Dominik whined and pulled you on top of him.

"Can't you stay here longer? She can wait." Dominik pleaded with puppy dog eyes, begging you to stay with him.

You couldn't help but smile at his puppy dog eyes and how he pulled you back onto the bed. "You're too cute, you know that?"

Dominik grinned, his arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled your neck. "So, does that mean you're staying?"

Your hands gently played with the ends of his hair, "How about this? We hop in the shower, make up for lost time, and once we're all clean and pretty, we can go grab some breakfast, and then I'll meet up with Rhea. Deal?"

Dominiks face lit up with a mischievous grin at the thought of you in the shower with him.

"Deal!" he replied enthusiastically, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. He then reluctantly let you go and climbed out of bed, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you out of bed and lead you to the bathroom. As soon as all of your clothes were shed and the water was on, Dominik picked you up and smashed his lips onto yours, lifting you and bringing the both of you in the shower.

"Dominik... Not now." You managed to protest between kisses as the warm water cascaded over both of you. He ignored your protests in favor of the moans sputtering out of you as he trailed his lips down your neck, sucking harshly into your supple skin.

"Hermosa, I want to taste my breakfast right now." He mumbled into your skin, addicted to the blissed out expression on your face as continued kissing you, lowering himself onto his knees. He was just enamored and completely addicted to you and the hold you had on him.

And you couldn't get enough of him either, just as addicted to him as he was to you. He was just purely addictive- his personality, his charm, his aura,  just him. And as you grabbed a fistful of his hair on the back of his head and guided him right where you wanted him, you knew two things.

Rhea would kill you both after this.

And 2, that you were officially a goner for Dominik. The man who many on the roster called a snake, a manipulative, a liar, a sell out. A man who burned everything he hurt to the ground.

But you wanna know what the scary part was? That you didn't even care.

Not one bit.

And if you got burned?

You would gladly get engulfed in flames if somewhere in that fire you'd get the warmth of his love.

[johns-prince]

if you don’t mind, what are some of your favorite soft mclennon moments?

JOHN: I used to try to get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, “Look, we don’t need these fuckin’ suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.” My little rebellion was to have my tie loose with the top button of my shirt undone. Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight. [x]

PAUL: There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.

The Times Profile of Paul McCartney - 1982 [x]

“And John and Paul thought back to the time they’d been in Paris before. Flat-broke, unable to afford a taxi, without funds for a decent meal. ‘Maybe we’ll buy the Eiffel Tower this time’, said John with a grin.”

“The Beatles in Paris.” Beatles Book Monthly Magazine No. 8 (March 1964). [x]

““Okay, okay,” I said, “don’t go on, John.” I felt a surge of embarrassment because my instrument was the cause of such hilarity. “Look guys, that’s enough. What have you two been doing while we’ve been struggling to get here? I hope you’ve done some practising and got the song list sorted out?” I was getting more and more annoyed as this episode was dragging on. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry Len. Paul and I have got it all sorted out. Haven’t we Paul? Paul! Paul! I said haven’t we Paul?” Paul McCartney looked up with a wry smile and paused. “Tonight will run just like clockwork. I am going to give the audience the best rendition of ‘Guitar Boogie’ they have ever heard this side of Garston.” “Hey, this is a new twist,” I said. “Paul just cracked a joke. He must have a sense of humour after all, John, shall we have him in the group?” John was enjoying the banter as ever. “Yeah, we’ll give him another try and if you don’t get it right this time, Jimmy,” Jimmy (James) was Paul’s first name, “then…” John waited to see the expression on Paul’s face. “Then we’ll,” again a pause, and by this time we were hanging on John’s next words, “then we’ll have to send him for some more guitar lessons!” Paul joined in the laughter and at that we were all back to normal.”

— Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]

“One of my great memories of John is from when we were having some argument. I was disagreeing and we were calling each other names. We let it settle for a second and then he lowered his glasses and he said: “It’s only me.” And then he put his glasses back on again. To me, that was John. Those were the moments when I actually saw him without the facade, the armour, which I loved as well, like anyone else. It was a beautiful suit of armour. But it was wonderful when he let the visor down and you’d just see the John Lennon that he was frightened to reveal to the world.” [x]

“Whatever bad things John said about me, he would also slip his glasses down to the end of his nose and say, ’I love you’. That’s really what I hold on to. That’s what I believe. The rest is showing off.” [x]

“I remember being shocked one day when John started worrying about how people would remember him when he was gone. It was an incredibly vulnerable thing for him to come out with. I said to him then, ‘They’ll remember you as a fucking genius, because that’s what you are. But, you won’t give a shit because you’ll be up there, flying across the universe.’” [x]

“If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him?”  “In bed.” — Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998. [x]

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

— September 26, 1997, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle” by Steve Richards [x]

“We were recording the other night, and I just wasn’t there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other alot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other.”

— John Lennon, The Beatles by Hunter Davies [x]

Q: “What musician and composer do you respect most?” Paul: “No, I don’t know, really... John Lennon!” John: *mock-shy* “...Paul McCartney.” [x]

conversations with mccartney, paul du noyer [x]

“It was 8:30. I could hear people talking about the likelihood of a storm later on that evening. I can remember hoping that it would clear up before my cycle ride back to Wavertree. Up to now it had been an eventful day but very tiring and as a group, although committed to playing, we all wished that we could pack up and go home. All of us apart from John Lennon. I think that meeting Paul had whetted his appetite and by the time we went on stage for our session at 8:45 he looked refreshed and seemed to have a new sparkle, as though he had had an injection of renewed optimism and enthusiasm as he played and sang through our usual repertoire that evening. […] I went outside for some air and a smoke; John and Pete decided to come with me. We stood outside pulling on our cigarettes, enjoying the breeze that had risen with the oncoming storm. “Do you know, John,” remarked Pete as we stood outside, “I’ve never heard you sound as good as you did just then. I know you’re going to say that I’m not very musical but I could hear the difference. I can see that something’s happened to you. Even the skiffle numbers which I know you’re not that keen on sounded good. You seem to have put more effort into them.” “Pete’s right, John. I couldn’t help noticing it as well,” I said. John was silent for a few minutes, just enjoying his smoke. “I guess someone took the trouble to share what he knew with me and it’s just given me a little encouragement for the future, that’s all.” “Oh I see, you’re getting a little sentimental in your old age, aren’t you,” joked Pete, who had never seen his life-long friend in that light before. “Don’t be thick, Pete,” replied John, who seemed almost back to his normal abrupt self. “Come on, I need a drink.”” — Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]

[x]

Paul's persistence and endless patience for John while he was dealing with the death of his mother Julia:

But Paul seemed to have limitless patience for John, sneaking away from his classes to drink coffee at the Jacaranda coffeehouse, or else spend the afternoon nursing pints and punching rock ‘n’ roll songs on the jukebox at Ye Cracke pub. Certainly, Paul preferred hanging out with his friend to grinding through lectures and assignments at his schoolboy’s desk at the Liverpool Institute. But the hours they spent together held an emotional significance, too. For even if they rarely spoke about the pain of losing their mothers, the mutual feelings of loss—and the rawness of John’s wound—gave them a connection that was as vital as it was unspoken. It was, Paul said later, a “special bond for us, something of ours, a special thing.” … “We could look at each other,” Paul said, “and know.”” 

…

John, however, had other things on his mind. Though the fall of 1958 and well into 1959, John was far too busy engaging in art-school life—if not exactly his studies—to think much about playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band. He had started dating another student, a quiet blonde from the relatively posh Hoylake district on the Wirral, named Cynthia Powell. She proved a warm, stabilizing influence, which helped mitigate John’s ongoing grief and rage.

He had also grown particularly close to one of the school’s most promising students, a blazingly talented painter named Stuart Sutcliffe, whose emotional portraits and densely wrought abstracts had already caught the eye of the university’s instructors, along with the gallery owners, artists and critics who orbited the bohemian section that bordered the campus. John had been drawn to Stu’s talent, too, and when his classmate invited John to move into his large, if downtrodden, flat around the corner from the college in a row of once-elegant homes on Gambier Terrace, the two art students became even closer. The flat became a hub for their college friends, a reliable address for drinking bouts and all-night parties.

 Nevertheless, Paul made certain not to be a stranger. He was a regular around Gambier Terrace, often toting his guitar to spur a little playing and singing, and if circumstance permitted, a bit of songwriting. John remained an eager music fan, and generally enthusiastic partner for playing and singing. But his disinterest in the band, prompted at least in part by his deepening friendship with Stu, frustrated Paul. 

…

John was moving on, and not in a promising direction. George, for his part, had grown sick of waiting and joined the jazz-and-skiffle centered Les Stewart Quartet, though he made it clear to Paul he’d be back with the Quarrymen whenever they resumed playing. Paul, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in playing with anyone else. For whatever combination of emotional or visceral reasons, he couldn’t seem to imagine a musical life that didn’t include John Lennon as his primary partner.

So he persisted, dragging his guitar to Gambier Terrace, making himself a fixture amid the empty beer bottles, overflowing ashtrays, shattered Vicks inhalers, and paint-splattered clothes.

If John didn’t evince any interest in being in a band, Paul would simply wait, guitar at the ready, until he did.

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life [x]

[dmwrites]

The site of Jimmy’s grave was a bit more damaged then it had been before. There were craters all over the land from the wither- a damn wither, really Grian and Etho?

Cleo opened the chest that had been Jimmy’s makeshift coffin, pulled out the bit of rotten flesh she’d put in to represent him. She brushed the squishy lump off and lifted her shirt slightly, slapping the flesh back onto her torso. It was a wet sound, and she was kind of disappointed that no one else was around to be disgusted by that.

Cleo wondered how long after Jimmy’s death could she start calling herself a psychic for having him attend his own funeral on the same day that he did, in fact, die. She put a hand on the gravestone she’d made- poor bastard, she thought to herself.

There were footsteps behind her, and she turned to see Joel approaching her.

“Hello, Cleo.”

“Hi Joel.”

“What are you doing?”

“I was just cleaning up from the funeral.”

A silence fell between them. Cleo shot a look at Joel. He held his bow loosely in his grip, staring at the gravestone. Cleo did some quick mental math. Of everyone on the server, it really must have been Joel that had lost the most. His wife. His ally. Whatever odd homoerotic thing Jimmy and Joel had going on all the time. She had heard his screams of Jimmy and Mumbo’s names as they’d perished- they’d both died right in front of everyone. Anguished cries that no one even had the time to acknowledge in the chaos.

Cleo wanted to walk away. She really did- hell, she and Joel were on opposite sides of the spectrum at this point- he’d lost so many, and Cleo had her two idiot allies back at home, green and happy and alive. Why on earth would she possibly care about anyone other than her own allies?

She sighed. She didn’t walk away.

“I’m sorry, Joel, for your losses today.”

“Doesn’t matter- was bound to happen anyway.” Joel spoke in a deeply bitter tone, like he was trying and failing to spit acid.

“Alright, play the emotionally unavailable guy, see if I care.” Cleo did make to move away, but Joel spoke again, softer now.

“Why did they have to die, Cleo?”

“We all will, probably sooner rather than later, Joel.”

“But why them? Mumbo and Jimmy and… Lizzie.” Joel’s name caught on the word Lizzie, and his face crumbled. Cleo watched him as he stepped forward, putting a hand on the gravestone. “Could you leave this up, Cleo? It would be nice for… some people on the server to be able to visit every once in a while.”

Cleo decided not to tell Joel that she’d planned on leaving the gravestone up so she could gloat about guessing that Jimmy would die.

“Sure, Joel.” Cleo said, and her heart felt like it was twisting horribly as she watched Joel sag against the cold stone, hand pressed to the sign with Jimmy’s name. She walked forward, softly, and etched Lizzie and Mumbo’s names into the wooden sign.

“You… take all the time you need. Or anyone else who needs to… mourn.”

She took a few steps away, then stopped and turned around again. Joel was tracing the letters of Lizzie’s name now, over and over again. Cleo lowered her gaze and continued walking away- it felt indecent to watch.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Get It On*

————————————————————————-

summary: after a road game win in San Francisco, you know Joe’s gonna be in a certain mood when he gets home. you had stayed in Cincinnati with your twin boys and Joe couldn't wait to celebrate the win with you. Being able to predict that, you decide to play a little prank on Joe.

warnings: talks of and illusions to smut, mostly fluff, funny/unserious

pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

imagine universe: into the mystic

————————————————————————-

Bye week - October 18th (with flashbacks from October 15th & 12th)

(y/n’s pov)

The bye week was something I had been looking forward to since week one.

With the calf strain before the season even started it had been a little harder for Joe to get into the groove. He’s been more down on himself than normal and it was clear to me that he needed rest which is exactly what a week off would give him.

When Joe was home with me and the twins he wasn't Joe Burrow the quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, he was simply “Dada” to his boys and “Joey” to me.

He loved it, being away from the bustle of the NFL and being with his little family.

After a morning of sleeping in and cuddling, Joe cooked breakfast while I watched the twins, who were playing on the floor with their toys while sitting on their playmat.

They had just said their first words within a week of each other, both saying “Dada”. I thought I would've been jealous if my boys said Daddy, Dad, or Dada first but the situations in which they said it were so sweet that I couldn't have been upset.

The boy’s first game was at home against the Seahawks a few days ago. I sat up in the box with Robin & Jimmy plus my boys.

Tyson was sitting on Robin’s lap while I had Miles on mine. Joe ran out and Robin bounced Tyson on her lap saying “Look there's Dada!!” to which Tyson loudly squealed and cooed his first word in response to his grandma.

“Da-da!”

I hurt my neck with how fast it snapped in his direction from pure shock.

Miles said it just a few days before after Joe came home from practice.

Joe walked through the door and immediately found me in the kitchen feeding the boys. He walked over and kissed my cheek before turning his direction to his boys. Miles was reaching out to his dad and Joe immediately picked him up.

“Did you miss daddy?” - you smiled

“Da.. Da!” - Miles

Watching Joe’s eyes widen before he tossed Miles in the air was the sweetest sight.

“Thats my boy!!” - Joe yelled

Now back to the present day, Joe was in the floor with the twins passing around this tiny foam football. “Teach ‘em early” Joe would say.

I sat scrolling through Tiktok when a funny video came up on my fyp of this wife pranking her husband by lighting a candle that smelled like farts and putting it in their bedroom, after seeing the husband's reaction I immediately ordered the candle in hopes to do the same prank on Joe.

I had to laugh as I glanced over my phone at the unsuspecting victim. This was going to be hilarious.

October 29th - After 49ers game

Everyone seemed on cloud nine after the win over the Niners. I stayed back in Cincinnati with the twins while Joe was in San Fran. My parents ended up coming over to watch the game and overall it was a good day.

It wasn't long after the boys went back to the locker room that I received a text from Joe.

Hey mama.

To other people, it might seem like an innocent text, but to me, after all these years with Joe, I knew where this was headed.

Hey, champ!

A couple of seconds later when Joe replied back, I couldn't help but bust out laughing.

Whatcha wearing rn? 😏

I looked down at my current fit and thought about whether I should tell the truth or lie to please him.

Nothing special. Just a pair of your sweatpants and one of your Bengals shirts.

I got worried when he didn't message back for a minute or so, worried that I had disappointed him.

Sounds sexy.

Boy. 💀

Listen, I'm feeling really good right now. I gotta go shower but I'll text you when we're on the bus to the airport.

Talk to ya later then! Enjoy your shower, baby.

Ttyl, love you. ❤️

Love you too!

After I hit send, I put my phone down for a bit and ushered my parents out of the house. I’d hopefully get a shower, get the boys to sleep, and clean the house up a bit before Joe got home.

He'd definitely be getting home late but after big road game wins that would end in a long night for the both of us.

This also meant that tonight would be the perfect night to use something that I ordered back during the bye.

What was that you may ask?

A candle that smells like farts.

Now I’m not a big prankster but I will never pass up an opportunity to mess with Joe, it's been like that since we started dating in high school.

45 minutes later I had gotten most of the dishes washed in the sink, along with putting the clean dishes from the dishwasher up, and moved on to folding and putting away laundry.

It was always fun putting Joe’s clothes back up in our walk-in closet due to how diverse and unique each article was.

I saw the different suits and past game-day fits as a reminder of all of the ups and downs Joe and I have been through together.

Moving over to hang up his favorite grey jeans, in the corner of my eye I caught a view of the jacket Joe wore the day of the AFC Championship back in 2022. That was the same night Joe proposed to me and the thought made me smile. When the memory of what had happened later that night popped into my mind my once-innocent smile turned into more of a smirk. That was one goooood night.

My thoughts ended up interrupted when my phone dinged but seeing Joe’s name being the source of the tone made my smile reappear.

How’s my wife and my boys doing?

One of Joe’s biggest worries, since we found out I was pregnant, was him not being around enough for his kids to have a good relationship with their father. Every away game Joe seemed to check up on his little family every chance he got and though it was incredibly sweet, I worried about how he thought about himself parent-wise. He was an amazing dad, the boys loved him so much

We're doing great, baby. Your boys are already asleep and your wife is just cleaning around the house right now.

We should be home in a few hours but don't feel like you have to wait up for me, it'll be late.

I'm def waiting for him, I thought to myself with a laugh.

Okay! Are the guys all feeling good after the win?

Oh yeah, everyone is hyped right now. They're blaring music and have asked the bus driver to take a detour to the nearest club twice. LOL

You guys should go! Y’all need to celebrate.

It took a few minutes for Joe to respond but when he did, his message warmed my heart.

No thanks. That would just take time away from getting home to you guys. I miss you and the boys so much.

We miss you too. Especially the boys, who kept yelling “Daddy!” every time you were on the TV.

When I read Joe’s reply it was a complete mood shift, but I can't say I wasn't expecting it.

Did you also yell Daddy when I was on the TV?

Omg, Joe!

You'll be saying that again later, baby. 😉

Big wins always put Joe in this mindset but I couldn't help but giggle at his forward texts.

I was brainstorming what to say next when I remembered a little photoshoot I did the other day when Joe was away at practice. These pics would get him worked up for sure.

The pictures were of me fresh out of the shower in the mirror with nothing but his jersey and a tiger-striped thong on. The jersey was hiked up on my hip to where the panties were visible but my phone covered my face, the star of the show was the huge “9” on my front.

*Attachmentt 3 images*

When a few minutes had passed by and Joe hadn’t said anything back I started to get worried. He's on the bus right now... what if someone else saw the pics? Oh no.

If someone else saw those Joe’d be pissed. Oh no.

Holy shit, mama. You look fucking gorgeous.

Oh thank God, I thought.

You like what you see?

Screw like, I damn love it. Those pics are just for me, right?

Your eyes only, J. ❤️

I had no idea what was going on with Joe other than his texts, so I was completely oblivious to him struggling to contain himself in front of the guys.

You don't understand how much I'm struggling right now.

Struggling how Joey?

I knew exactly how he was struggling but I wanted him to come out and say it.

I'm getting so fucking hard. The last thing I need is the guys seeing a tent in my damn sweats.

Just a couple pics got you worked up?

y/n, baby how do you still not understand how much you turn me on after all this time?

Idk, Joe.

Plus baby it's not just the pics you sent me, it's also thinking about what's bound to happen when I get home.

What's that?

I'm gonna get you naked and show you exactly why you wear number nine. Sound good?

Can't wait.

We're boarding the plane, I'll see you later my love.

See you later, Joey.

*time skip*

It was almost two in the morning and there was still no sign of Joe. I was starting to get tired and was genuinely considering just going to bed.

Rolling over onto my side to get comfortable, I had just closed my eyes when I heard the garage door opening. Meaning Joe was home.

I removed the covers from my body and slipped out of bed, running my hands over the front of my satin nightgown to flatten it out before going downstairs.

By the time I made it into the mudroom, where the door that connects the garage to the house is, Joe was already there taking his shoes off.

“Hey baby.” - you smiled

Joe flinched before he found my eyes, his gaze softening as he did so.

“Shit babe, you scared me.” - Joe laughed

“Sorry, how was the plane ride?” - you

“It was fine, everyone was pretty much asleep so I just sat there on my phone… thinking about you.” - Joe

“Is that so?” - you giggled

“Yes ma'am. I missed you like hell.” - Joe

I opened my arms for him and he immediately walked over into my embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist as my hands ran up and down his muscular back.

Joe leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips before letting his hands drop from my lower back down to my butt.

“The boys still asleep?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

“Just us then, wanna go upstairs?” - Joe

“Before we do that… when was the last time you ate?” - you

“I ate this morning and had some snacks on the plane. I'm low-key starving but I made a promise to you about what was happening when I got home.” - Joe

Pulling away from his arms, I pecked his lips before patting his stomach.

“Let's get some food in you, then you can fulfill your promise.” - you winked at him

Joe grinned as he followed me into the kitchen, he sat on one of the barstools as I looked in the fridge.

“What do you want?” - you

“You.” - Joe mumbled

“What was that?” - you turned to face him

Joe smirked at me before dropping his head with a laugh.

“Nothin. Uh, whatcha got?” - Joe

“I've got leftover chicken and noodles, sandwich stuff, bacon for a BLT…” - you

“Chicken and noodles are fine.” - Joe

“Okay, I'll heat that for ya.” - you

I popped the container into the microwave and made my way over to Joe, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Sorry if I'm kinda clingy, I just missed you.” - you

“Don't ever apologize for wanting to be close to me, baby.” - Joe’s hand moved to cradle your head

Just a few seconds before the timer went off, I stopped is as to not wake up the twins with the loud ding.

After handing Joe his food with a kiss on the cheek, I walked upstairs.

I told Joe that I went up there to finish cleaning up but in reality, I was lighting the candle. The directions said that it would smell like vanilla for the first 30 minutes, then it would gradually start to smell bad.

Once it was in a sufficient spot I made my way back downstairs. Joe was in the same spot he was when I left but now he was just in his grey sweatpants as he ate and scrolled on his phone.

The floorboards creaked before I was completely in the kitchen and Joe looked behind him to make sure it was just me.

“You look incredibly beautiful in that nightgown by the way.” - Joe

“Well thank you, a special someone bought it for me.” - you

“A special someone?” - Joe gave you a confused/agitated look

“You bought it for me you goof.” - you laugh

“Oh!” - Joe laughed

We shared small talk as he finished eating. Talking about dinner for the rest of the week, the grocery list, just little things.

Joe abruptly stood up and walked over to the sink to wash the Tupperware his chicken and noodles were in. My eyes couldn't seem to peak away from his body, his back muscles flexed with every scrub he made making me feel hot all over.

He grabbed a towel and was now facing me as he dried the dish, my eyes still drawn to the veins protruding from his hands and arms.

After it was dry to his liking he put it up and the cabinet and sat back down on the stool next to me.

With a longing glance at each other, Joe swiftly grabbed my waist and pulled me off my stool and onto his lap. My hands landed on his chest as his mouth was immediately on mine.

Joe’s hands gripped my hips and slowly slid down to my thighs.

“You still got that tiger-striped thong on?” - Joe

He was grinning up at me as his hands slowly slid under my nightgown. His eyes turned dark when his fingertips reached my hips and he hadn't felt a band.

“No panties?” - Joe’s voice dropped an octave

“No, sir.” - you

“Fuck, y/n…” - Joe groaned

I felt Joe’s hand start moving down toward my inner thigh and I had to stop him. The confused look on his face made me giggle.

“Can we do it more… vanilla tonight?” - you

“Oh yeah, that's okay with me. Whatever you want baby, I'll give you.” - Joe

“Okay… now where were we?” - you

Joe moved his hands back to my waist and stood up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

He started up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he continued kissing me.

Joe’s pace changed as we passed by the twin’s room to make sure the sound of us rushing to the bedroom wouldn't wake them up.

Once in the bedroom, Joe shut the door and moved to lay me down on the bed.

“Did you light a candle for mood lighting?” - Joe grinned

“Guilty.” - you laughed

Joe laughed along with me as he climbed on top of me. The candlelight accentuated the soft features of his face and enhanced them, he looked even more ridiculously beautiful than he already was.

The faint smile on his face melted my heart as he admired me.

“Gosh… I love you so much y/n.” - Joe

I reached up and combed his curls back with my hand before slowly moving my hand lower to stroke his cheek.

“I love you too, Joe. So so much.” - you

Joe gently pressed our lips together. We engaged in a thorough, slow-burn kiss, that had my toes curling in my fluffy socks.

Very slowly, Joe’s hands moved from my sides and back up my nightgown. He started gently inching it up my body as his lips never left mine.

Once it was completely off my body, Joe disengaged his lips from mine to pull it over my head. The only thing I was left in was my bra.

“You are so… beautiful. Unbelievably beautiful. You're just… breathtaking y/n.” - Joe

His eyes scanned over my body with so much love behind them. I wanted nothing more than to lean over and blow the candle out, knowing It was going to ruin this intimate moment but it was too late.

Joe’s once content face was scrunched up in disgust as he abruptly rolled off of me.

“What the fuck is that?” - Joe

“What do you mean? Did I do something?” - you

“I don't think so… unless. Babe, did you fart? If you did…. goddamn!” - Joe

“Joseph Lee! I did not let one rip while we were trying to get it on!” - you

Joe tried so hard not to cackle but ultimately failed, his nose re-scrunching when he took a big inhale.

“What the actual hell is that putrid smell then, I know for sure it wasn't me! That smells so bad that if it was me I'd be in the bathroom right now.” - Joe

I giggled to myself as Joe hopped off the bed and started smelling around the room.

“Joe baby, you look like a damn bloodhound smelling around like that.” - you hollered laughing

“Well, I'm trying to find whatever the fuck that is so I can get rid of it! I'm not going to bed until I get some sugar.” - Joe

My laughing only got louder as Joe dropped to his knees and started looking under the bed for the source of the stink.

“Maybe there's a dirty pull-up under here…” - Joe grumbled

I rolled off the bed and grabbed a pair of Joe’s boxers that were clean and in his pile of laundry before slipping them on and walking over to his nightstand.

“Baby get off the floor.” - you

“Hold on! I think I'm getting close!” - Joe

“Joe! Get up! It's the candle!” - you laughed

Joe suddenly stood up and looked at me with a confused look on his face.

“How is it the candle? It says vanilla?” - Joe

He walked over to me and I plugged my nose before blowing it out and moving it toward his nose.

Joe looked at me hesitantly before leaning down and smelling the freshly melted wax. He immediately jumped back and gagged at the terrible stench as I seemed t never stop laughing.

“God bless!” - Joe

“I pranked you pretty good huh babe?” - you

“That was not funny at all, and now our room smells terrible. Looks like there's no sex on the menu tonight.” - Joe pouted

The way he exaggeratedly pushed his bottom lip out in a frown had me grinning. I got on my tiptoes and repeatedly pecked his lips till his pout turned into a small smile.

“We can sleep on the couch and watch movies tonight.” - you smiled

I watched Joe’s smile fall back into a pout as he pressed his hips against my thigh, reminding me of his dilemma.

The unamused look on my face only made him more whiney as multiple “please y/n” fell from his lips.

“Here, how about we get in the shower and I suck you off at the end. Would that make you happy?” - you sighed

“No. I don't want pity head.” - Joe grumbled

“Boy please you know pity head doesn't exist in this relationship.” - you smirked

Joe’s frown once again turned into a smile as he took my hand and led us into the bathroom.

Once both of us stripped naked and got in the shower, Joe got his head before he pressed me against the shower and finally got what he'd been craving since the game ended.

After we cleaned each other off and hopped out of the shower, our bedroom had finally gone back to smelling like it normally does.

When Joe flopped on the bed he almost immediately knocked out.

“Tired?” - you kissed his forehead

Joe nodded and I kissed him one last time before cuddling up to him and falling asleep.

One thing you can take from our relationship is no matter what, get you a man that'll still rock your word less than 10 minutes after he thought you let out the worst-smelling fart known to man.

———————————————————————

Authors note: a random daydream turned into one of my fav fics ever. 💀

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️

[linmmelonz]

Guess The build Quotes #1

“In order to make Scar everybody knows you start with some booty shorts” Gem

“I’m not obsessed…I just looked at my phone background and [built] Etho!” Joel

“So Joel this is what Jimmy thinks of your viewership. That they are walking thumbs.” Grian

“Those are all unlikely scenarios that turned into likely scenarios. Apart from Jimmy winning the Life Series.” Grian

“Put some pants on that man my gosh!” Joel

“Really really annoying people. Just happens to have a red shirt on.” Gem

“Grr that really waxes my back” Grian

“I’m second guessing all my guesses when I’m behind Skizz” Joel

“The pressure here isn’t necessarily to build that, the pressure here is to identify my best friend. So, it’s gonna be Jim.” Grian

“I don’t know if this is a personal attack towards Jimmy but we’ll see.” Joel

“I think there’s been a few personal attacks” Gem

“It’s gone quite personal I feel” Grian

“He’s got a power pose” Grian

“When my bar of soap starts leaking water it is really annoying” Grian

“All I’m asking is that you give me arms!!” Jimmy

“You know what really dries my eyeballs?” Grian

“The uno reverse card has hit so hard here” Jimmy

“JOEL CAN’T READ! JOEL CAN’T READ!!” Gem

“Learn how to read Joel” Gem

“Shut up Gem! Learn how to spell SOAP” Joel

“‘I’m Gem and I love Gardens’ that’s what I heard” Jimmy

“Why don’t you shove your… HELLO! Let’s get started!” Joel

“[Joel] I don’t know what that means but ok…” Impulse

“I know what’s going on, I’m not happy about it though.” Gem

“D-Do flowers have elbows? In magic?” Gem

“Is this good or does it suck? Don’t answer that!!” Skizz

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me 🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, i think thats all

all of the songs and celebrities mentioned in here are from the time periods this was written if you are confused🩷

Chapter 1

It was 1956. I was living with my family at the Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas, where my father, then Captain, Joseph Paul y/ln, a career officer, was stationed. He came home late for dinner one evening and handed me a record album.

“I don’t know what this Matt guy is all about,” he said, “but he must be something special. I stood in line with half the Air Force at the PX to get this for you; everybody wants it.”

I put the record on the hi-fi and heard the rocking music of “Blue Suede Shoes.” The album was titled Matt Sturniolo. It was his first.

Like almost every other kid in America, I liked Matt but not as fanatically as many of my girl friends at Del Valley Junior High. They all had Matt T-shirts and Matt hats and Matt socks and even lipstick in colors with names like Hound Dog Orange and Heartbreak Pink referencing names of his songs. Matt was everywhere, on bubblegum cards and Bermuda shorts, on diaries and wallets and pictures that glowed in the dark. The boys at school began trying to look like him, with their fluffy hair and turned up collars.

One girl was so crazy about him that she was running his local fan club. She said I could join for twenty-five cents, the price of a book she’d ordered for me by mail. When I received it, I was shocked to see a picture of Matt signing the bare chests of a couple of girls, at that time an unheard-of act.

Then I saw him on television on Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey’s Stage Show. He was sexy and handsome, with his deep brooding eyes, pouty lips, and crooked smile. He strutted out to the microphone, spread his legs, leaned back, and strummed his guitar. Then he began singing with such confidence, moving his body with unbridled sexuality. Despite myself, I was attracted.

Some members of his adult audience were less enthusiastic. Soon his performances were labeled obscene. My mother stated emphatically that he was “a bad influence for teenage girls. He arouses things in them that shouldn’t be aroused. If there’s ever a mothers’ march against Matt Sturniolo, I’ll be the first in line.”

But I’d heard that despite all of his stage antics and lustful, tough-guy looks, Matt came from a strict Southern Christian background. He was a country boy who didn’t smoke or drink, who loved and honored his parents, and who addressed all adults as “sir” or “ma’am.”

I was an Air Force child, a shy, pretty little girl, unhappily accustomed to moving from base to base every two or three years. By the time I was eleven, I had lived in six different cities and, fearful of not being accepted, I either kept to myself or waited for someone to befriend me. I found it especially difficult entering a new school in the middle of the year, when cliques had already been established and newcomers were considered outsiders.

Small and petite, with long y/hc hair, y/ec eyes, and an upturned nose, I was always stared at by the other students. At first girls would see me as a rival, afraid I’d take their boyfriends away. I seemed to feel more comfortable with boys—and they were usually friendlier.

People always said I was the prettiest girl in school, but I never felt that way. I was skinny, practically scrawny, and even if I was as cute, as people said, I wanted to have more than just good looks. Only with my family did I really feel totally protected and loved. Close and supportive, they provided my stability.

A photographer’s model before her marriage, my mother was totally devoted to her family. As the oldest, it was my responsibility to help her with the kids. After me, there were Don, four years younger, and Michelle, my only sister, who was five years younger than Don. Jeff and the twins, Tim and Tom, hadn’t yet been born.

My mother was too shy to talk about the facts of life, so my sex education came in school, when I was in the sixth grade. Some kids were passing around a book that looked like the Bible from the outside, but when you opened it, there were pictures of men making love to women, and women making love to each other.

My body was changing and stirring with new feelings. I’d gotten looks from boys at school, and once a picture of me in a tight turtleneck sweater was stolen from the school bulletin board. Yet I was still a child, embarrassed about my own sexuality. I fantasized endlessly about French-kissing, but when my friends who hung around our house played spin the bottle, it would take me half an hour to let a boy kiss my pursed lips.

My strong, handsome father was the center of our world. He was a hard worker who had earned his degree in Business Administration at University of Texas. At home he ran a tight ship. He was a firm believer in discipline and responsibility, and he and I frequently knocked heads. When I became a cheerleader at thirteen, it was all I could do to convince him to let me go to out-of-town games. Other times no amount of crying, pleading, or appealing to my mother would change his mind. When he laid down the law, that was that.

I managed to get around him occasionally. When he refused to let me wear a tight skirt, I joined the Girl Scouts specifically so I could wear their tight uniform.

My parents were survivors. Although they often had to struggle financially, we children were the last to feel it. When I was a little girl my mother sewed pretty tablecloths to cover the orange crates that we used as end tables. Rather than do without, we made the best of what we had.

Dinner was strictly group participation: Mother cooked, one of us set the table, and the rest cleaned up. Nobody got away with anything, but we were very supportive of one another. I felt fortunate to have a close-knit family.

Going through old albums of family photographs showing my parents when they were young fascinated me. I was curious about the past. World War II intrigued me, especially since my father had fought with the Marines on Okinawa. He looked handsome in his uniform—you could tell he was posing for my mother—but somehow his smile looked out of place, especially when you realized where he was. When I read the note on the back of the picture about how much he missed my mother, my eyes filled with tears.

While rummaging through the family keepsakes I came upon a small wooden box. Inside was a carefully folded American flag, the kind that I knew was given to servicemen’s widows. Also inside the box was a picture of my mother with her arm around a strange man and, sitting on her lap, an infant. On the back of the photo was inscribed “Mommy, Daddy, y/n.” I had discovered a family secret.

Feeling betrayed, I ran to phone my mother, who was at a party nearby. Within minutes I was in her arms, crying as she calmed me and explained that when I was six months old, my real father, Lieutenant James Wagner, a handsome Navy pilot, had been killed in a plane crash while returning home on leave. Two and a half years later, she married Paul y/ln, who adopted me and had always loved me as his own.

Mother suggested I keep my discovery from the other children. She felt it would endanger our family closeness, though when it did become known, it had no effect on our feelings for one another. She gave me a gold locket that my father had given her. I cherished that locket and wore it for years and fantasized that my father died a great hero. In times of emotional pain and loneliness he would become my guardian angel.

By the end of the year, I’d been nominated to run for Queen of Del Valley Junior High. This was my first taste of politics and competition and it was especially trying because I was running against Millie Collins, my best friend.

We each had a campaign manager introducing us as we went from house to house knocking on doors. My manager tried to talk each person into voting for me and donating a penny or more per vote to a school fund. The nominee who collected the most money won. I was sure that this competition would jeopardize my friendship with Millie, which was more important to me than winning. I considered quitting but felt I couldn’t let my parents or my supporters down. While my mother was out looking for a dress for me to wear to the coronation, my dad kept reminding me to memorize an acceptance speech. I kept putting it off, certain I was going to lose.

It was the last day of the campaign, and a rumor began circulating that Millie’s grandparents had put in a hundred-dollar bill for their vote. My parents were disappointed; there was no way that they could afford to match that much money and even if they could, they objected on principle.

The night they announced the winner, I was all dressed up in a new turquoise blue, strapless tulle net formal that itched so badly I couldn’t wait to take it off. I sat beside Millie on the dais in the large school auditorium. I could see my parents with happy, confident looks on their faces though I was sure they were going to be disheartened. Then the principal walked up to the podium.

“And now,” she said, hesitating to heighten the suspense, “is the moment you’ve all been waiting for  . . . the culmination of a month of campaigning by our two lovely contestants: y/n y/ln  . . .” All eyes turned toward me. I blushed and glanced at Millie. “ . . . and Millie Collins.” Our eyes locked for a brief, tense moment.

“The new Queen of Del Valley Junior High is  . . .” A drum roll sounded. “ . . . y/n y/ln.”

The audience applauded wildly. I was in shock. Called up to the stage to give my speech, I had none. Sure that I was going to lose, I’d never even bothered to write one. I walked, trembling, to the podium, then looked out at the crowded auditorium. All I could see was my father’s face, growing more disappointed as he realized I had nothing to say. When I finally spoke, it was to apologize.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m not prepared to give a speech, as I did not expect to win. But thank you very much for voting for me. I’ll do my very best.” And then, looking at my father, I added, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

I was surprised as the audience graciously applauded, but I still had to face my father and hear him say, “I told you so.”

Being elected Queen was a bittersweet victory, because the closeness that Millie and I once shared was restrained. Still, to me that crown symbolized a wonderful, unfamiliar feeling: acceptance.

My newfound tranquility ended abruptly when my father announced that he was being transferred to Wiesbaden, West Germany.

I was crushed. Germany was the other side of the world. All my fears returned. My first thought was, What am I going to do about my friends? I turned to my mother, who was sympathetic and reminded me that we were in the Air Force and moving was an unavoidable part of our lives.

I finished junior high school, my mother gave birth to baby Jeff, and we said our goodbyes to neighbors and good friends. Everyone promised to write or call, but remembering past promises I knew better. My friend Stephanie jokingly told me that Matt Sturniolo was stationed in Bad Neuheim, West Germany. “Do you believe it? You’re going to be in the same country as Matt Sturniolo,” she said. We looked at a map and found that Bad Neuheim was close to Wiesbaden. I said back, “I’m going over there to meet Matt.” We both laughed, hugged each other, and said goodbye.

West Germany

The fifteen-hour flight to West Germany seemed interminable, but finally we arrived in the beautiful old city of Wiesbaden, headquarters of the U.S. Air Force in Europe. There we checked into the Helene Hotel, a massive and venerable building on the main thoroughfare. After three months, hotel living became too expensive and we began looking for a place to rent.

We felt lucky to find a large apartment in a vintage building constructed long before World War I. Soon after we moved in, we noticed that all the other apartments were rented to single girls. These Fräuleins walked around all day long in robes and negligees, and at night they were dressed to kill. Once we learned a little German, we realized that, although the pension was very discreet, we were living in a brothel.

Moving was out of the question—housing was too scarce—but the location did little to help me to adjust. Not only was I isolated from other American families, but there was the language barrier. I was accustomed to changing schools frequently, but a foreign country posed altogether new problems, principally that I couldn’t share my thoughts. I began to feel that my life had stopped dead in its tracks.

September came and with it, school. Once again I was the new girl. I was no longer popular and secure as I’d been at Del.

There was a place called the Eagles Club, where American service families went for dinner and entertainment. It was within walking distance of the pension and soon proved an important discovery for me. Every day after school, I’d go to the snack bar there and listen to the jukebox and write letters to my friends back home in Austin, telling them how much I missed them. Drowning in tears, I’d spend my weekly allowance playing the songs that were very popular back in the States—Frankie Avalon’s “Venus” and the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do Is Dream.”

One warm summer afternoon, I was sitting with my brother Don when I noticed a handsome man in his twenties staring at me. I’d seen him watching me before, but I’d never paid any attention to him. This time, he stood up and walked toward me. He introduced himself as Steven Wright and asked my name.

“y/n y/ln,” I said, immediately suspicious; he was much older than me.

He asked where in the States I came from, how I liked Germany, and if I liked Matt Sturniolo.

“Of course,” I said, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’m a good friend of his. My wife and I go to his house quite often. How would you like to join us one evening?”

Unprepared for such an extraordinary invitation, I grew even more skeptical and guarded. I told him I’d have to ask my parents. Over the course of the next two weeks, Steven met my parents and my father checked out his credentials. Steven was also in the Air Force and it turned out that my father knew his commanding officer. That seemed to break the ice between them. Steven assured Dad that I’d be well chaperoned when we visited Matt, who lived off base in a house in Bad Nauheim.

On the appointed night I tore through my closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit. Nothing seemed dressy enough for meeting Matt Sturniolo. I settled on a navy and white sailor dress and white socks and shoes. Surveying myself in the mirror, I thought I looked cute, but being only fourteen, I didn’t think I’d make any kind of impression on Matt.

Eight o’clock finally arrived, and so did Steven Wright and his attractive wife, Carole. Anxious, I hardly spoke to either of them during the forty-five-minute drive. We entered the small town of Bad Nauheim, with its narrow cobblestone streets and plain, old-fashioned houses, and I kept looking around for what I assumed would be Matt’s huge mansion. Instead Steven pulled up to an ordinary-looking three-story house surrounded by a white picket fence.

There was a sign on the gate in German, which translated as: autographs between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. only. Even though it was after eight o’clock, a large group of friendly German girls waited around expectantly. When I asked Steven about them, he explained that there were always large groups of fans outside the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt.

I followed Steven through the gate and up the short pathway to the door. We were welcomed by James Sturniolo, Matt’s father, a tall, gray-haired, attractive man, who led us down a long hallway to the living room, from which I could hear Brenda Lee on the record player, singing “Sweet Nothin’s.”

The plain, almost drab living room was filled with people, but I spotted Matt immediately. He was handsomer than he appeared in films, younger and more vulnerable-looking with his haircut. He was in civilian clothes, a bright red sweater and tan slacks, and he was sitting with one leg swung over the arm of a large overstuffed chair, with a cigar dangling from his lips.

As Steven led me over to him, Matt stood up and smiled. “Well,” he said. “What have we here?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just kept staring at him.

“Matt,” Steven said, “this is y/n y/ln. The girl I told you about.”

We shook hands and he said, “Hi, I’m Matt Sturniolo,” but then there was a silence between us until Matt asked me to sit down beside him, and Steven drifted off.

“So,” Matt said. “Do you go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, about a junior or senior in high school?”

I blushed and said nothing, not willing to reveal that I was only in the ninth grade.

“Well,” he persisted.

“Ninth.”

Matt looked confused. “Ninth what?”

“Grade,” I whispered.

“Ninth grade,” he said and started laughing. “Why, you’re just a baby.”

“Thanks,” I said curtly. Not even Matt Sturniolo had the right to say that to me.

“Well. Seems the little girl has spunk,” he said, laughing again, amused by my response. He gave me that charming smile of his, and all my resentment just melted away.

We made small talk for a while longer. Then Matt got up and walked over to the piano and sat down. The room suddenly grew silent. Everyone’s eyes were focused on him as he began to entertain us.

He sang “Rags to Riches” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and then with his friends singing harmony, “End of the Rainbow.” He also did a Jerry Lee Lewis impersonation, pounding the keys so hard that a glass of water he’d set on the piano began sliding off. When Matt caught it without missing a beat of the song, everyone laughed and applauded except me. I was nervous. I glanced around the room and saw an intimidating life-size poster of a half-nude model on the wall. She was the last person I wanted to see, with her fulsome body, pouting lips, and wild mane of tousled hair. Imagining Matt’s taste in women, I felt very young and out of place.

I glanced up and saw Matt trying to get my attention. I noticed that the less response I showed, the more he began singing just for me. I couldn’t believe that Matt Sturniolo was trying to impress me.

Later, he asked me to come into the kitchen, where he introduced me to his grandmother, Minnie Mae Sturniolo, who stood by the stove, frying a huge pan of bacon. As we sat down at the table, I told Matt I wasn’t hungry. Actually I was too nervous to eat.

“You’re the first girl I’ve met from the States in a long time,” Matt said, as he began devouring the first of five gigantic bacon sandwiches, each one smothered with mustard. “Who are the kids listening to?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding?” I said. “Everyone listens to you.”

Matt seemed unconvinced. He asked me a lot of questions about Fabian and Ricky Nelson. He told me he was worried about how his fans would accept him when he returned to the States. Since he’d been away, he hadn’t made any public appearances or movies, although he’d had five hit singles, all recorded before he’d left.

It felt like we’d just begun talking when Steven came in and pointed to his watch. I had dreaded that moment; the evening had gone so fast. It seemed I had just arrived and now I was being hurried away. Matt and I had just started to get to know each other. I felt like Cinderella, knowing that when my curfew came, all this magic would end. I was surprised when Matt asked Steven if I could possibly stay longer. When Steven explained the agreement with my father, Matt casually suggested that maybe I could come by again. Though I wanted to more than anything in the world, I didn’t really believe it would happen.

a/n - thoughts on this story so far? all the fashion and technology and things is still based in the time period its set in but i promise it gets better as the story goes on! i know the age gap is crazy but back in the day it was normal and its the age gap in Priscilla’s book so i just stuck with it. I in no way support this at all🎀

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

[cheyj05]

Okay, the people who are saying The Bad Boys are a disaster waiting to happen... are correct but not for the reason they’re saying!

 They are not going to betray each other! They are one of the least likely to betray each other! 

 First of all, Joel is NOT a lone wolf, the exact opposite in fact! He was only alone in 3rd life. In Last Life he was planning to team up with Scar but he ended up going red life first so he COULDN’T be teamed with anyone. Even then he killed Grian specifically so he could have a friend! He was in the middle of the red life packs in Last Life and Double Life! In Double Life he literally wore a shirt with Etho’s face on it! In the most recent session he protected Grian faithfully! He’s really loyal, he’s just feral about it. Least likely out of The Bad Boys to betray.

   The only time Jimmy betrayed anybody was The Southlands but there were a lot of extenuating circumstances. He wasn’t really close to anybody in that group other than Grian and Martyn but Grian hung out with Mumbo most of the time and Martyn had promised to betray the group with him. When he stole the life he thought Martyn would leave with him! Maybe help him escape! He didn’t expect Martyn to betray him! He only betrayed The Southland b/e he though the odds were on his side. Also the larger the group the easier it is to not feel guilty betraying them, it’s less personal. The Bad Boys are a group but not a big one, and I would definitely say he’s close to Joel and Grian. Also The Bad Boys have more of a group identity than The Southlands. B/e they’re The Bad Boys and The Southlands was more of a loose collection of people who all knew they were going to betray each other eventually.

  Grian is probably the most likely to betray the others but still unlikely. He has a tendency to be loyal to one person specifically regardless of anybody else he teams up with that season. With 3rd Life, it was Scar, Last Life Mumbo, and Double Life BigB. Those are also the ones he ends up killing. He doesn’t really follow this pattern in Limited Life since I can’t say he’s closer to one Bad Boy over the other (Though maybe Joel?) But honestly he makes it pretty clear in his own POV when he’s planning to betray his group and he hasn’t shown any signs of it yet.

The groups most likely to betray each other are as follows(ranked most to least likely)

  1. T.I.E.S

  2. The Clockers

  3. Bad Boys

  4.  Mean Gills

  5. Nosy Neighbors

   I put T.I.E.S above The Clockers b/e I feel like anybody in TIES could betray each other (like Etho, Tango, or Impulse and Skizz) at any time, Bdubs is the only one I think would betray the Clockers right now. Cleo has A Thing about betraying your day 1 ally and while Scar WOULD betray his group, he doesn’t like being alone and would only do it if he knew he wouldn’t be.

    Despite everything I typed here, The Bad Boys are still themselves and are unpredictable.

   Honestly the Mean Gills and the Nosy Neighbors are both pretty much tied b/e Scott and Martyn are both too pragmatic and BigB and Pearl are both too one unit. I put Mean Gills as 4th b/e we all know Martyn only joined Scott b/e Ren wasn’t there and the other groups had already established themselves. He’s also honestly the most lone wolf out of everybody in the server.

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - More Than I Do Now

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2k

Warning(s): none!

Bold and Italic is song lyrics

Just italic is like.. flashbacks of sorts?

—————————————

Shoulda known what I was getting in

Fallin' for a boy from Michigan

You love your mom like every Midwest kid

You like driving to Texas

You put up with all my exes

To deserve you, don't know what the hell I did

“Just put that down at the end of the table, honey.” I lowered the glass of wine from my lips, watching Jack help his mother set the large wooden table outside. Jim was on the back deck grilling burgers, kept company by Trevor. Quinn and Luke were playing croquet with Cole.

It was a beautiful summer day. Jack and I had spent most of it tanning in the front yard. Despite his energetic tendencies, he did enjoy laying with me in the sun. Anything to aid his appearance. Vain, but perhaps not in a bad way. Jack valued his looks.. there was nothing wrong with that.

When Ellen and Jimmy showed up, the whole lot of us spent hours in the living room catching up. Ellen and Jim only had three kids, but one would be none the wiser with the way they talk to their boys’ friends. They were parents to anybody and everybody their kids liked. I found it to be the same with myself.

Jack set down a bowl full of fruit, peeking up from where he stood to look at me. He still didn’t have a shirt on. The boys usually ate without much clothing at all at the lake house. I wondered if Ellen would get on them for that today.

I watched Jack look toward his mother, saying something I couldn’t hear from where I sat, in my boyfriend’s wooden lounge chair. Ellen nodded, they crossed paths and stopped only momentarily so the woman could kiss her son’s cheek. Then Jack grabbed a piece of fruit and waltzed his way over, a dorky smile on his face.

“Watermelon?” He offered, and I leaned forward as he lowered the sweet snack to my lips. I took a bite out of the chunk of fruit, and Jack popped the rest into his mouth.

I can't love you anymore

I can't love you anymore

I can't love you any more than I do now

You can try to talk me down

But I can say without a doubt

I can't love you any more than I do now

Jack was a Diamond in the rough. Especially when it came to Jersey.

The first time we met, he had been all over me in a bar. I let it slide because he was cute. Perhaps I let too much slide when he took me back to his place. But there, I met his brother, and if not for Luke asking me to stay when the morning came around, Jack and I never would have been together. I had the youngest Hughes to thank for our relationship.

Jack sat in the grass next to me, and I moved my arm from the armrest of the chair, resting my hand on the back of his sunburnt neck. I placed my glass of wine down on the opposite arm rest.

“Dinner almost ready?” I asked, watching his head turn to look up at me. Through those dark lashes. With those big blue eyes. The same ones I admired endlessly.

I fell in love with him even more every day. Since day one.

Bring me coffee every morning

People said there’d be a honeymoon phase. That it would end. That we’d go through hardship. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, per superstition, but I knocked on wood any time I thought, ‘that never happened.’ Sure, Jack and I weren’t perfect, but we never gave up on each other. We never chose something over the other. Jack was my rock, and I was his.

The first morning we spent together showed me the type of commitment he had, that I never would have seen in him from a one night stand.

“Hey, Lu.” Jack and his wild hair had passed by me completely in the kitchen. Luke mumbled a, ‘hi,’ before retreating back into his own room with a bowl of cereal. When Jack turned to look toward the door, only then had he noticed me.

“Hey.” A surprised look faded into a delighted smile. I smiled back.

“Hey.” I spoke in a sing-song tone.

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Coffee?”

We spent that morning leaning into one another seated at the island, sipping on our customized mugs full of caffeine.

We spent the next two weeks going on dates before we finally made it official.

You're fun even when you're boring

“Can we do something?” I muttered as Jack threw his weight against my side, leaning into me like a cat seeking attention.

“No.” His big old smile never ceased to make my heart flutter. His mischievous eyes watched me as he slowly leaned further, until he was laying across my lap. I broke into a fit of quiet laughter, resting my hands atop his stomach.

“Jack.” I complained, inching one of my hands beneath his shirt, only for him to jump at the cold feeling.

“Quit!”

We didn’t have to do much to be satisfied with one another.

And you like me even when I've been a bitch

Like said before. We weren’t always perfect. Sometimes Jack got on my nerves, and sometimes I got on his. Especially during my period. It’s no excuse to be mean, but when one has a bad day, they’re prone to be irritable.

“Jack! Just fuck off!” He’d been trying his hardest to help from the moment the sun rose. He was doting and caring, but admittedly overbearing. I didn’t have the heart to tell him until I couldn’t handle him, until I simply couldn’t do it any more. He looked hurt, confused, lost, but Jack simply stopped talking and laid down next to me in bed. Cuddling was the one thing I’d actually wanted that day, but Jack had been in and out so much trying to find a fix, that I felt I hadn’t been able to ask for it. He turned onto his side and pulled me back into his chest. He grabbed the heating pack from the bed and rested that over my stomach as well.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered.

“S’okay.” Jack kissed my shoulder.

Always so understanding.

You watch me while I'm gettin' ready

You lighten up my heavy

You're so good lookin' it kinda makes me sick

“How does this look?” I turned to Jack, wearing the fifth outfit of the night. Correction, the fifth one I had tried on. Jack sat on the bed, his phone face down in his lap, eyes raking me over for the thousandth time.

“Good.”

“Jack,” I whined his name, my head falling into my hands. “I can’t go- I just won’t go.”

“Hey, hey. Woah.” I lifted my head when I heard Jack stand, his hands finding my hips immediately. “Baby, you look beautiful in this. And you looked beautiful in the last four outfits too.” Jack reached for my hands, squeezing them and pressing them to his chest. “You’ll be the prettiest woman in the room.”

“Are you sure?” I sighed, still uncertain. Jack was always there to reinforce my foundation when it cracked.

“I know. For a fact.” He leaned in to kiss my forehead, and it caused me to smile. “What about me?” He asked with a playful grin.

“You look pretty good too.” I removed one of my hands from his own to smack his ass.

Jack’s innocent laugh that followed was one I’d never forget.

I can't love you anymore

I can't love you anymore

I can't love you any more than I do now

You can try to talk me down

But I can say without a doubt

I can't love you any more than I do now, aye, aye

“How’s that ring feel?” Jack asked, pulling me from my trance. I looked back down at him and smiled.

“Feels perfect.”

“You like it.. yeah?” He’d only asked that question a million times since the night he proposed days ago.

“I love it, Jack. You picked a perfect ring.”

“Mom helped.” I moved my hand from the back of his neck to run through his hair.

“Why don’t you sit here so I can see you better?” I asked, gesturing toward the arm of the chair. I didn’t really care about seeing him, it was more so about kissing him. Jack slowly stood up and parked himself on the arm of the chair, looking down at me.

“Better?” He asked. I reached upwards and rested my hand beneath his jaw, guiding his lips to my own.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

You're the angel to my devil

We broke apart when I felt something fall into my lap. One of those heavy croquet balls. I glared at Luke.

“Fuck off, blondie.”

“Woah- babe!” Jack’s shocked tone amused me.

The pot to my kettle

“You wanna go?” Luke teased.

Jack and I both looked at him immediately.

“Let’s get him.” Jack spoke, practically reading my mind. Luke’s eyes went wide.

“Good idea, Jack-O.” I agreed.

“Never mind- forget I said anything.” Luke held his hands up in surrender. He’d fight his brother any day, but he knew better than to fight Jack when Jack was fighting in the name of my honor.

To some I might be an acquired taste

Jack started to get up.

“Wait hold on-“ I grabbed Jack’s arm. He looked down at me in confusion. “Let him think you’re still mad. Psychological torture will harm him more than a few bruises.” The brunette looked down at me with concern and adoration in his eyes.

You tell me I'm your favorite person

Hey, what we've got is working

And the years have only made it more that way

“You’re so amazing.” Jack spoke in a playful yet dreamy tone, leaning in once again to kiss me. I pulled away after a moment, smiling up at him.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you too.”

I can't love you anymore

I can't love you anymore

I can't love you any more than I do now

You can try to talk me down

But I can say without a doubt

I can't love you any more than I do now

“Alright, kids!” Jim finally called hauling a plate full of burgers off the deck and down toward the large picnic table. The boys all seemed to drop what they were doing to find their places at the table. Jack stood up, and our hands met almost instinctively. I brushed my thumb across the back of his hand as we found our way toward the table. I couldn’t see myself spending my summer any other way.

“Alright. Everybody get situated.” Ellen put her finishing touches on the table before she and Jim took seats at the head of the table in fold-out lawn chairs. Jack and I sat across from one another, closest to Ellen. Then the food started getting passed around. Jack and I quickly got swept up in the surrounding conversations, eating and enjoying the company of those we valued most.

Heaven knows that I've attempted

“Alright, who wants dessert?” The sun had begun to set, and the once depleted energy immediately spiked at the mention of sweets. Ellen stood up as the boys all chimed in with various versions of, ‘yes.’ Like dogs, they all watched Ellen disappear inside. Jack was the first to turn back.

Couldn't even put a dent in

There were those blue eyes.

He flashed me a smile.

I blew him a kiss.

I can't love you any more than I do now

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[slamminslamminmcgill]

can i request nsfw saul goodman x gender neutral reader? I’m thinking the reader is his assistant or something like that. It can be a story or headcanons it’s up to you. Thanks! ❤️

gonna do hcs bc i wanted to make sure to get this done for u 😘

you could have the most impeccable resume in the world or you could have "pwease hire me 🥺" scribbled in crayon on a mcdonald's napkin. if saul thinks you're hot, you're hired.

yes, he's going to try to make moves. yes, they're going to be cringe.

in true slippin' jimmy fashion i see him having a lot of "accidents" on the job to try to get what he wants

"oh noooo im so sorry i spilled coffee all over your brand new shirt! clumsy me :(" *ogles your chest all day*

*bumps into you while he's carrying a comically large stack of papers* "aw man! help me pick these up, will ya? gotta make sure we get these in order." *"accidentally" brushes your ass while reaching behind you*

call him a pervert/dirty old man after he tries something. he's into it.

i can see this becoming a fun dynamic where you'd tease back >:3c wearing VERY risqué outfits to work and always making sure to have one extra button undone, swaying your hips a little extra as you walk. "oopsie i dropped my pen! lemme just stick my entire ass in your face bend over and pick it up 😏"

one day you come in wearing a particularly slutty outfit and sit on his desk to discuss a case. he'd be staring up at your exposed skin for long enough that eventually he'd get fed up with the formalities and shoot you straight.

"look, kid, let's cut the bullshit. are we doing this or not?"

"doing what, mr. goodman? i have nooo idea what you're talking about."

"come on, yes you do," he'd stand up from his desk and put his hands on your hips, "walking in here dressed like that, climbing on my desk and practically giving me a lap dance? that's what we call 'leading the witness', sweetheart."

and then y'all would fuck nasty in his office during breaks 😌

he loves doing it on/at his desk. his absolute favorite is when you're bent over the top of it and he's taking you from behind.

definitely an exhibitionist. his office is soundproof but i bet he'd love to flirt with the idea of getting caught. ESPECIALLY if you're being a brat.

"oh, you wanna act up right now? maybe i should just turn on the intercom and let the good people of albuquerque hear what a whore you really are."

he will ABSOLUTELY tease you under the desk in front of clients because he likes seeing you squirm.

he's either really lovey dovey with aftercare (cuddling, smooching your face, petting your hair, telling you how good you were) or he's immediately back in business mode.

you'd be slumped over drooling on his desk with his cum leaking out of you and he just taps you on the shoulder. "hey, space cadet, when you get back down from orbit, you think you can put your pants back on? we got a line of people waiting outside."

[avalil18]

(Series)Meeting The Parents

Summary:you met joes parents for the first time and they absolutely adore you

———————————

Y/n pov

It’s game day here at OSU and I’m so excited! Joe is finally playing! I also get to meet Robin and Jimmy, joes parents. I’m honestly quite nervous but I know they are loving people and amazing parents!

I’m wearing black jean shorts that aren’t to short and an OSU cropped long sleeve shirt with converse. My hair is down and curled at the ends and I put the front pieces up into clips. As I was walking into the stadium I see Robin and Jimmy. They quickly noticed me and walked over with some cousins and joes brothers.

“Y/n! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”-Robin says as she is hugging you

“Hi! I’m so excited to finally meet you too!”-you say hugging back

I moved away from Robin to give jimmy a quick hug

“Hi y/n! I’m Jimmy and it’s great to finally meet you!”-jimmy

“Aww! Thank you! Ive heard so many great things about you guys! Joe always talks so highly about you guys!”-you say pulling out of the hug

“Aww that’s so sweet! Joe always talks about you! I’ve never seen him so happy! Thank you for taking care of him!”-Robin

“Of course!”-you

I smiled and hugged the rest of the family and made small talk until Robin came up to me as we walked to our seats.

“So,where are you from y/n?”-robin

“Im from Northgate,Ohio! Just out of Cincinnati!”-you

“Omg! Such a cute town!”-robin

“Yeah! It’s great!”-you

“And how’s your family? Any siblings?”-robin

“They are good! I’m very close with my family! I have a twin brother and an older sister.I’m very close with them!”-you

“Awww! That must be so nice! As you know Joe has older brothers so he was really the only child in the house growing up!”-robin

“Yeah! He told me that they graduated high school when he was born!”-you

“Yep! But he is still very close with his brothers which I love!”-robin

“That’s so sweet!”-you

Robin and I talked for a bit more and we kept laughing as she told me stories about Joe when he was a kid.

“So y/n, do you work?”-daniel (joes brother)

“I do! I work in marketing for a company called Kroger!”-you

“Oh wow! Thats amazing!”-daniel

“Thank you! It’s a lot of fun!”-you

After talking with joes brothers for a bit the game finally started. All of us were cheering and stressing. As fourth quarter hit and the clock was 0:20 we knew we were going to win, and we did! I was so proud of Joe!

After the game ended we all walked down into the family area where the families wait for the players to come out. After a couple minute wait Joe finally came out. I let joes family greet him and congratulate him before I ran up to hug him.

“Hey there winner!”-you

“Hi babe!”-joe said hugging me

“I am so proud of you! You did amazing out there Joey!”-you

“Thanks! And thank you for coming out to support and meet the fam! I hope they weren’t a lot.”-joe

“Of course! And are you kidding? They are amazing and I love your family!”-you

“Haha,good!”-joe

Robin came up to us and said

“She’s a keeper Joey!”-Robin

Then Jimmy and everyone else joined in

“Yeah! She’s amazing!”-everyone

I gave a big smile! I am so happy they love me!

“Oh trust me, I know!”-joe

I gave Joe a big smile and kissed him on the cheek before giving him a hug.

“I got to go because my friend is taking me back, but it was so lovely meeting all of you!”-you say hugging everyone

“Awww y/n! I was so lovely meeting you and I hope to see you soon!”-robin

I hugged her and gave Joe one last hug and kiss then took off.

————————-

Joes pov (after the game)

“Omg Joey I love her!”-robin

“Same!”- Daniel and Jimmy

“Good, because she’s the one.”-joe

Robin looked up at him

“Really! Omg Joe! Do you love her?”-robin

“Haha,yeah! I really do love her, mom! She helped me get rid of all my anxiety during the game. She said something to me this morning when I was getting nervous and I kept repeating in my head what she said during the game and it helped me so much. She makes me happy, like really happy! She just gets me and understands me.”-joe

“Awww! I’m so happy for you! I can see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her! That’s true love,Joey!”-robin

—————

Authors note: um hello aren’t they the cutest couple ever!!! Anyway hoped you enjoyed!🫶

[onboardsorasora]

For de aged Daniel, max has a stream with red line that he can’t get out of so he sets Daniel up with a coloring station and Daniel draws the two of them racing or on the podium. So obvs he has to show max and he does so during the stream which is how the Max Verstappen secret kid rumors start

And since the kid is wearing so much Ferrari people assume that it’s a secret Lestappen baby which max hates because he loves Daniel and Charles is just laughing at all of the tweets/chaotically liking them to add to the rumors

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | De- Aged Daniel Pt 5 | De-Aged Daniel Part 6 | De-Aged Daniel Part 7 | De-Aged Daniel Part 8 | De-Aged Daniel Part 9

“Mate, when are you gonna be able to get here?” Max asked over the phone, keeping an eye at the coffee table where Little Daniel was colouring with his tongue sticking out adorably while he concentrated.

“Mate, I told you I'm gonna be late. I am helping maman with something, then I will be there.” Charles' voice was distant on the phone and Max sighed explosively.

“Ok, the door code is the same. I have to jump on.”

“It will be fine, Max.” Charles tried to soothe before they hung up. Max looked towards Little Daniel. “Daniel, Charles will be here soon. Are you ok out here while I go into a meeting?”

“Shaarrllll.” Little Daniel drawled, not looking up from choosing his next colour.

“Daniel? Did you hear me?” Max asked again softly.

“Yeah Maxy. I'll shtay here.” Little Daniel nodded up at Max, brown eyes bright.

“Pinky promise?” Max asked sticking out his finger.

Little Daniel looked at him consideringly before hooking his pinky with a grin. “I'm gonna draw you a picture Maxy!” He declared.

“I'd love one thank you, Daniel.” 

Max went into his sim room after taking a long look at Little Daniel who took a new sheet of paper and started colouring again. He settled himself in his rig and joined the stream, apologizing for being late.

“Everything ok, Mate?” Crane asked. Max glanced up at the camera and waved before straightening his shirt across his chest while he watched them play a round.

“Yeah, I just had to deal with something. Of course, I would never miss staring into your eyes Crane.” Max laughed when his friends snorted.

They set up for iRacing, Max letting the chatter wash over him while he slowly tried to relax and stop listening out for Little Daniel in the other room. Little Daniel had snacks, he had his crayons, paper and a colouring book. The TV was also on, playing another race, and Jimmy and Sassy were around to distract him. He only needed to last at most a half an hour before Charles came.

After the first race– that Max won, he begged off a minute and turned off his camera. He got up and peaked out of the room to see Little Daniel where he left him, looking up at the TV attentively and nibbling his finger.

Max sighed and relaxed further before climbing back in the rig. He came back to chaos as Bennett and Gianni were arguing about whether iguanas truly fell asleep if it got too cold. Max joined in, stating a few animal facts he learned while looking up information for Little Daniel.

They're going through qualifying again when the door to the sim room busts open. It wasn't fully closed in the first place so Little Daniel met little resistance when he barrelled in like the koolaid man.

“Maxy! I finished it!” He's waving his drawing around like a flag. Max's eyes widen and he lunged for his camera, fumbling to turn it off. 

“Fu–sorry mate! He's really fast.” Charles charged in and scooped up Little Daniel in his arms. Max yanked off his headphones and turned to look at Little Daniel who is smiling broadly at him before frowning at Charles. 

“Shaarrllll I wanna show Maxy!” Little Daniel whined, his body going toddler tantrum tense.

“How about we make him another one then put it on the fridge so he'll see it as soon as he's finished his meeting?” Charles tried to bargain, walking out of the room. Max heard the first sounds of Daniel's unhappy cries and followed them out of the room.

Little Daniel looked up at Max with wide, wet, unhappy eyes and Max reached for him. He pressed his face in Max's neck unhappily and Max rubbed his little back, underneath his red Ferrari shirt.

Max took the crumpled picture that Little Daniel still clutched and looked at it while small hands squeezed around his neck. It was a picture of Max and Little Daniel in their race suits in front of a race car. 

“Thank you for the drawing Daniel. It is lovely.” Max said softly, soothingly. Little Daniel sniffed loudly and scrubbed at his eyes 

“You like it?” He sniffled.

“I do! Can you and Charles make me another one?”

Little Daniel nodded against Max's neck and Max thought he must have been very upset to forgo his usual “Sharl” vocal stim.

Max looked over to see Charles watching him with an unreadable expression. Max ignored him and put Little Daniel safely in his arms.

“I'm going to beg off the rest of the stream. I'll be back in five I think.”

“Of course. Sorry.” Charles looked contrite but Max waved it off. 

He got back in his rig and put on his headphones, listening in as the guys gained control over the stream again after his very abrupt departure. The chat was going wild based on what Max could see. He turned on his camera and Crane visibly relaxed.

“Everything ok over there Maxy Max?”

“Yeah mate. But I've got to go, something's come up.”

“Would that something happen to be toddler shaped?” Gianni asked

“Was that Charles??” Bennett jumped in.

“I'll talk to you guys later. Bye!” Max turned off his camera and mic quickly, before shutting everything down and quitting the room. He found Charles and Little Daniel exactly where he left them and Little Daniel raised his hands immediately when he saw Max, wanting to be lifted. Max obliged without hesitation. 

Both Max and Charles’ phone went off at the same time– denoting a group chat message. Max watched curiously as Charles' eyes widened.

“Oh no.” 

“What's happened?”

“Apparently we have a love child.” Charles raised his phone to show the looping gif of Little Daniel running up to Max and Charles coming to scoop him up before Max turns off his camera.

“Well, crap.” Max muttered.

“Shaarrllll….crap.” Little Daniel mumbled tiredly against Max's skin.

“No, Daniel we don’t need to repeat that.” Max mumbled, narrowing his eyes at Charles who was giggling at his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Mate, the internet works so fast, theres already theories about which one of us got pregnant.” Charles snickered into his palm and Max rolled his eyes, knowing he was on twitter liking tweets. Well there went his hope that this would blow over quickly.

“Why would I even want to have a baby with you?” Max groused, not wanting Daniel to be seen as he and Charles’ anything. 

“I would be a good mommy, no?” Charles rubbed his belly before giggling again. “I am going to call Lando to sort this all out.”

“You do that, Daniel and I are going to order pizza.” He rolled his eye before looking down at Little Daniel who seemed to perk up a little. “Would you like to choose the pizza?” 

Little Daniel nodded against his chest before covering his face. Max frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m schowy.” He mumbled while biting his palm.

“What for?”

“I-” Little Daniel frowned and looked at the floor sadly.

“Daniel?”

“I broke the pinky pwomise.” He whispered morosely. “‘Shell says it's bad. I didn’t mean to Maxy.”

Max felt that cuteness aggression that he’d become very accustomed to feeling. He stopped himself from squeezing Daniel’s little body to his chest and stroked his hair instead.

“It's ok bud, you didn’t mean to. You were just excited.”

“I won’t do it again. Pwomise!” Little Daniel vowed.

“I believe you, let's get some juice. Do you want juice?” Little Daniel nodded and Max walked them into the kitchen, ignoring Charles’ heart eyes and the phone trained in their direction.

[pacthesis]

our vietnamese tea ceremony

some may or may not know i just got engaged to a weird guy i met in college that (to put it lightly) i wasn’t too fond of but after like 2 years of snubbing him he somehow won my heart i guess

i scribbled a comic about it cause whenever people ask how i met him they sometimes get invested haha

some people also may have seen him on america’s got talent or cbs news or jimmy fallon or on tiktok doing his pizza man shenanigans lol

people often ask if he pulled me with his dough skills and i have to clarify i didn’t even know about the dough spinning hobby until after we started dating and he didn’t do the tv/media appearances until like 6 years into our relationship 🤣

my parents were both boat refugees from vietnam (they fled during the war when they were teenagers and met as adults) and i’m american- but we’re not really that “traditional” i guess

i think many viet people don’t get married or commit without having a tea ceremony haha

a hetero buddy asked who were my bridesmaids and when i told him i don’t have any he asked why and i just said “i like my friends” 🤣 (my childhood friends were there as guests though!)

i also didn’t want/ask pizza man’s family to bring the customary gifts cause i didn’t wanna cramp my style

basically the purpose of this event was for people to witness us getting engaged and be an opportunity for our families to meet one another!

5/23/2015 is when we started dating

for our first anniversary i got our initials and anniversary date stamped onto a penny and pizza man still carries it around 🥺

so 8 years later we got engaged on 8/5/2023

8 for august (8 years later)

5th of august (5 for the month we began dating)

year of 2023 (23 for the day we began dating)

i think people often go to a fortune teller or someone who knows what they’re doing to schedule important dates using the stars and other factors but my grandpa doesn’t believe in that and the rest of us aren’t really superstitious

we wore áo dài- it’s a vietnamese ensemble consisting of a tunic with a long front and back panel that is worn over pants

áo means “shirt/clothes” and dài means "long"

a lot of the time the bride wears red and the groom wears blue i guess but i wanted my outfit to look bridal when i imagine an american bride or a vietnamese bride!

i also wanted to wear a gold khăn đóng headpiece and to incorporate pearls to resemble what my mom wore when she got engaged to my dad

sunflowers are also my fav

(after we started dating i thought pizza man was tall and sunny like a sunflower haha 😭)

my makeshift shoebox altar- or as i like to call it: my “spirit pager” 😤

the double happiness symbol is two copies of the chinese character 喜 (xǐ) which means joy/happiness and red symbolizes luck for the couple

my mom asked if we should put up pictures of our deceased and i was like i don’t wanna make pizza man’s parents go out of their way to bring photos 😭

i think we were supposed to ask our ancestors for permission to get engaged or married or whatever but since my mom raised me to believe my life is mine to live i just announced it to em

as far as i know it’s not really a buddhist thing- ancestor worship is more of a vietnamese thing apparently

my mom said vietnam is a country with a lot of war and death in its history- so imo it makes sense how they incorporate the dead into their culture and traditions

after introducing each of our family members and friends- we lit a couple of incense to (casually) announce the news to our deceased grandparents and relatives

apparently burning incense is an invitation to ancestral spirits and to deliver wishes to predecessors

smoke from the burning incense guides people to safety or safe passing when they die- it also guides em back home on days like these

the spirit(s) depart when all of the incense has burned

next month is my grandma’s "deathiversary” (giỗ) so we’ll be paging her again soon

we used a tea set that was used to celebrate my 1st birthday to pour and serve (my pick) of vanilla caramel black tea to my grandpa and our parents

pizza man’s mom doesn’t like tea so i was happy i picked something she did enjoy!

but when my mom brought her family to america from vietnam- she asked them if they could bring a tea set specifically for me

my mom said it’s meant to be used to celebrate any of my special occasions

then me and pizza man said some nice words to each other and exchanged rings

my ring was pizza man’s grandma’s- his grandpa initially proposed with a smaller diamond but after he saved up enough he got her this bigger one

i don’t listen to any comments that suggest or imply this carbon rock is not humongous 🤣

pizza man paid to get it resized and to repair its prongs (it was well worn by grandma mercedes 🥺)

also found out my ring size is 3.25 (US) haha 😭

he also decided to get his grandpa’s ring resized and to wear it too!

my mom put this necklace on me- she says it reads “happiness” (i can’t confirm lol) but she received it from her mother-in-law when she got engaged to my dad

my mom was too scared to wear it after their tea ceremony cause it’s 24 karat gold and she didn't wanna wreck it

she said 24 karat gold hasn't been combined with other metals so it’s soft

i guess couples at viet tea ceremonies often get 24 karat jewelry- the idea is they can quickly sell it/melt it down for hard times

my mom also passed down her favorite jade bracelet and my grandma’s favorite diamond earrings to me 🥺

and on my 1st birthday my mom got a special ring made to celebrate my birth- she put it on a chain so the person i marry can wear it close to their heart

my mom also got a special ring necklace made to celebrate my sibling’s birth and gave it to their fiancée during their tea ceremony

it’s just the two of us so no more shiny token trophies up for grabs! 😤

i laughed when pizza man had to squat down so low so my mom could put the necklace on him 

after the ceremony i asked him if he wanted me to help him take it off (my sibling's fiancée keeps theirs in a safe cause she’s too scared to wear it daily) but pizza man was like "no i like it 😄" and wore it to sleep and showered with it and hasn’t taken it off since 😭🤣

at the end of the ceremony we lit the candles on the altar to represent the union of our families!

then we ate lots of food haha

my parents both cooked! egg rolls, fried rice, lo mein, bột chiên (fried taro rice cake)

my mom was excited because she knew many of our guests weren’t very familiar with vietnamese food and wanted to share that with them 🥺

and my dad was just so excited for me and pizza man and had so much fun getting the supplies and decorations 😭

my aunt and uncle and sister-in-law brought vịt quay (peking duck), heo quay (roast pork), gỏi tôm (shrimp salad), bánh hỏi (rice vermicelli), xôi gấc (sweet red sticky rice topped with coconut, peanuts and salt)

and pizza man’s mom and family brought lots of desserts

we have always been so amazed with how good their sweets taste and look! 🥺

we also got an ice cream cake

i wasn’t thinking and asked em to write “nicholas and amy lễ đính hôn” and they called me and were like wtf is this and i was like oh no it’s ok haha don’t worry about it! 😭🤣

we had some photos displayed but my sibling took lots of nice pictures of the whole thing!

i was happy i actually got the chance to spend time with and talk to everyone who came!

it went so well and we had so much fun that we’re thinking of doing something similar for our wedding- probably a backyard wedding haha

i was telling pizza man apparently some tea ceremonies have the first half take place at the bride’s home and then the later half is at the groom’s home 🤔

anyway reminder that leftover egg rolls can be reheated in the toaster

[animealways]

Surprise, i'm married bitch!

Natasha x fem!stark!reader/ contains making out, semi-public sex, strap on, marking, spanking, daddy kink, paparazzi (you set the internet on blaze by not only revealing you're married but to none other then black widow herself.)

Y/n stark potential suitor

A new stark family member?

Shadowcap is real?

All titles of gossip blogs articles about your love life. You couldn't help but chuckle at the last one. Its your and steve superhero ship name.

Captain america + iron shadow

"Oh this is some top noch comedy" you said to yourself. "What is 'top noch comedy'?" You lifted your phone showing the shadowcap article to nat and how it mentioned all the times you went shopping with steve to find the perfect decorations for the wedding and more. She shook her head at the article with a amused smile. "What people won't do just for some clicks. What are you doing?"

She raised a eyebrow at your smile. Natasha has learned thanks to you there are more then one way to smile and that includes mischievous smile. One you're wearing right now. "Ohhh nothing just giving them some light criticism."

Ohh sooooo~ close 🙃

You got the wrong avenger tho-

you commented and nat rolled her eyes at you. You always loved messing with the media. They always were a pain in the ass for as long as you can remember. Not surprising since your father is tony stark after all. He is often in the news either because of drama he causes or because of a new invention and that was BEFORE he became iron man. Oh yeah your step-mom is pepper the fucking co-ceo of the biggest company on earth that you run together. Literally anything happens that even semi involves your family aaaaand your face ends up on the fucking news.

The sec you post the comment you see fans going 'omg what!!!????' 'Nooooo my ship😭' 'dcvsxvjgxvbcf7gkg' 'wowowowow WHAT WHO IS IT THEN?!?!"

You laughed at the way your fans freaked out. "You know you should probably let everyone know were a thing." You looked up at your wife having your head against her thigh.

"Anything particulaire in mind?" "No you're better at that sort of thing, remember your last interview?"

You chuckled remembering jimmy fallon face when you told him about a particulier snowboarding vacation with your dad. When neither you or your dad realise the hill you were on was actually the end of a small cliff causing both of you to fall into a thick layer of snow. The only reason you didn't tell this to pepper was because your dad bought you a massive chocolate cake to shut you up. Oh man was she angryyyyy when she found out.

"I will never forget that scolding." You laughed while natasha shook her head but didn't bother hiding her smile. That damn near divine smile.

"Btw there is this gala i got invited to." You mentioned randomly remembering.

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

You put the finale touch to your eyelashes and felt ready to go. You wore a velvet red button up collar shirt with 3 upper buttons lose to show off your chest with the nanotech container on it. The rest of your suit was black and nothing of it really stood out exactly what you wanted.

It would bring more attention not only to the nanotech container on your chest but also your jewelry. Specificly the necklace with your wedding ring around it. For the longest time you and natasha would hide your relationship but now that you're married her both of you wanted let the world know who the 2 of you belonged to.

You put the edith sunglasses on before looking to your left admiring natasha beauty. You recognised the dress she wore, the same one she wore as 'natalie rushman'.

You walked behind her, hugging her from behind and putting your chin on her shoulder.

"Well if this doesn't remind you of something?" Natasha smirked remembers the first time she met you. "Yeah, i remember how you couldn't take your eyes off of me." She teased, you merrily shrugged. "What can i say? I have good taste. Common, lets go." She took her you hand once done with make-up.

You drove to the gala with happy in a another car behind you for safety measures. It didn't matter both of you we're avengers. You knew better then go to such a big event without any back up. Too many goddamn memories of parties going wrong.

As you arrived to the event. You ran around the car opening the door and unbuckled the seat belt for natasha. She took your arm and walked out together with your bodyguards right behind the 2 of you.

Paparazzi were, well they were annoying as always. They're shouting for you to either turn their way or about your life. You swear on your mother's grave the paparazzi brought a bonus level of anger out of you. Maybe its the belief your mother taught you that respect should be earn, not given. Maybe its that you had to deal with them your entire life or maybe its because they're basicly paid stalkers that made your blood boil either way to you a street fighter deseveres more respect then the paparazzi, atleast that took more then just being a invasive asshole to do it right.

But atleast you had natasha to keep you company. ''You know...'' you turned your attention to the red head trying you best to hear her over all the shouting. ''I have seen childeren that are quieter then them.'' you chuckled at the commentary.

''You think this is bad? You should be glad you didn't have to deal with them in the early 2000's they were 500 times worse.''

''You can't be serious.''

''I am. 1 of them actually got so close to me they pushed me and caused me to fall face first into the pavement.''

''Really, wow i can't imagine tony reaction.''

You smiled remembering how happy carried you to the car while your dad cussed everyone out. ''Ahhh yeah, good memories. I remember my dad calling them 'motherfucking disrespectful uncultered dipshits'.'' natasha laughed at the mental image.

''Hey, atleast he taught me how to protect the important things in life. Isn't that right misses stark?'' You looked lovingly at your wife.

Your wife

Misses stark

Man, you can't get enough off of those words. Natasha didn't say anything but the look she gave you said more then enough. Its funny really, this is the same woman that use to have a probleem with you hugging her once a day but now she had her last name changed for you. You took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

right under the wedding ring

As soon as you realised what you just did you immediately covered your wifes ears. Good thing too cause less then a second later you physically cringed at the shouting from the crowd.

how long have you been married!?

did you take each others last name?!

stark/black widow are offically off the marked!?

That last one caused both you and tash to glare at the crowd. Sure your relationship was a massive secret for the longest time but who would want to inmagine their partner getting flirted with?

''Lets go inside before we getting hearing damage or start a fight.''

''You took the words right out of my mouth.''

You followed natasha as the noise died down. Luckily for the both of you the night went fairly well. You went around and introduce natasha as your wife. People we're naturally curious about your relationship how long you have been together, who asked who, who proposed normale things you gladly answer. Then were the questions that would make your eyes tired from barrel rolling so much.

''So who is the man in the relationship?''

''Dude, thats like asking wich chop stick is the fork.''

Natasha giggled at the surprisingly accurate comparison. The other people at the table also had a good chuckled out of it. ''Ahh, s-sorry didn't mean to come over insensitive. I just don't know alot about these things.''

''Its fine but call me or my wife a dyke and i will start a fight.'' you joked causing the man to let out a nervous chuckle knowing you're capable of it and would gladly do it. After all its not every day you meet a woman that kicked a grown ass man at 18 years old but you did after the pap tried to take a pic under your skirt. You swear that the news didn't let go of it for a month long.

while natasha drank her vodka you stood right behind her pressing your crotch. She pressed back feeling the bulge in your pants while smirking.

''ты хочешь трахаться в ванной, детка?''

''you want to fuck in the bathroom baby?''

You whisperd softly in her ear while having tight grip on her hips. You had learned russian in the periode where the avengers broke.

Fuck are you happy she's back in your arms

''let me enjoy my drink first''

You smirked at her responds. You knew the alcohol would make her a shameless, horny mess. You didn't miss the way people looked at your wife though. You couldn't blame them natasha beauty was something to die for but there was no way you were walking out of this place without making clear who belonged to who. She continued to have more drinks as you whispered nothing but sweet compliments and in return she kissed you teasing about the people who must be watching the 2 of you being in love.

''good, the more people watch faster the news travels.''

Tash turned around wrapping her arms around your neck and kissed you. You hummed being able to taste all the different drinks she had from vodka to tequila. You pulled away and dragged her to the nearest bathroom. The second the door was closed she practically pounced you. Your hands immediately went to her ass giving it a tight squeeze. Her legs wrapped around you hips and started to grind against the bulge. You put her on the sink and pushed her dress up revealing the black lingerie with a wet spot in the middle.

You rubbed her tight, not quite touching her where she needs it.

''y/n i ne-''

You cut her by slapping her pussy making her jump and grabbed her by the throat. ''whats my name?'' You growled into ear. She pushed her breast forward close enough for them you the feel them against your own.

''i'm sorry daddy''

''better, now show me how much of a slut you are''

You put the palm of your hand against her pussy and she immediately started to grind against it. Your free hand went to her cheek forcing her to look into your eyes.

fuck those gorgeous green eyes

You kissed her softly, something natasha always loved is how gentle your touch was her even in moments like these she could feel the love behind the action. She whined against your lips making you smirk. 'awww baby do you need something?' You put you thumb against her lips . 'daddy please fuck me~' She whined her hands going under you shirt looking for skin to skin to contact. 'you want my cock, baby? you want daddy cock inside of you?' You used your index finger to pull on the thin fabric then let it go making it snap against her.

''hmm, please daddy claim me. i want you to mark me.''

''then get on your knees.''

She did as you demanded getting and loosened the belt pulling your pants down revealing the red strap. Natasha wasn't full on drunk, was she getting there? Oh for sure but not to the point she couldn't notice it was the strapon wanda magicly enhanced so you could feel everything like it was a real cock. She started to kiss the tip while holding eye contact with you.

this woman is gonna be the death of you and you couldn't care less

You sighed out of relieve at the feeling. As she slowly took the fake cock into her mouth you gentle went with your hands thru her hair the smile on your face never leaving love the sight and feeling knowing. ''who is daddy good little slu- ahhh you are baby FUCK!''

You used one hand to hold the sink while the other was still natasha soft red hair. You could feel her take the entire length, humming to please you as much as possible and her tongue moving around. You let this happen for abit enjoying how skillfull you wife mouth is before pulling her of. You panted while looking her messy face lipstick ruined by all the drool. You pulled her her up to and kissed her quick but passionate kiss.

''bend over for me and beg maybe then i let you cum over my cock''

She did as you said making sure her ass was on full display for you and wiggled it abit. You pulled the lingerie off of her and put them in you pocket. ''don't hold back on the noises. i want everyone near us to hear how much of a whore you are, understood?'' ''yes daddy''

You hummed before the upper half of you body was covered in nanotech and you didn't miss the way natasha started to move her ass more when she saw it reflected back in the mirror. 'keep looking in the mirror i want you to see everything' As soon the words left you mouth you started to spank her with the back of your hand now covered in metal hand. She yelped with every hit and you didn't stop until her ass was bright red. You didn't bother with giving her a warning just slamming your cock into her since she was dripping so much. Natasha screamed and you penetrated her at a animalistic pace. You threw you head back at the warm tight feeling of pussy and her moans sound divine. If she let you, you would do this for the entire night.

You grabbed her by the throat pulling her close enough for you to mark her entire back of her neck with hickey. Out of no where you stop your movement making natasha whine for more. You groaned feeling her squeez around.

''please daddy i need you! i'm a good girl please just let me cum over your perfect cock!'' She kept begging while you looked at her like she was a piece of meat for you to devour. You eventually flipped her over and started all over again. You made sure to cover her neck and breast with hickey while she clung on you. 'ahh daddy you're making me cum' she shouted and you were sure anyone in the same hall as the bathroom could hear her. You pulled her closer so your foreheads were touching each other while you used your right hand to keep her close you left hand went to her clit. Your left hand turned into a clit sucking vibrator sending natasha over the egde. You made sure to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible.

As soon as your left hand was off of her she grabbed it and sucked it. The pretty sight made you groan and natasha smirked. She let go of you hand with a pop sound while you gentle pulled out her of making her moan and leaving her pussy cleching around nothing. You pulled your pants back up covering the fake cock before natasha grabbed it.

''you haven't cummed yet'' A devilish smile made its way onto your face. ''oh im not done with you yet baby'' Natasha bite her bottoms lips in anticipation. Then the door opened , you first instinct is to cover up tash with your body as somone ran past straight to the toilet.

''i'm sorry i couldn't hold it. i swear i didn't see anything!''

You rolled your eyes as nat hide her blushing face in you neck. You made sure to clean her up fast and the nanotech went back into the container. She however didn't move from the sink. 'i-i cant walk...' You laughed at how shy she sounded in return she glared and pouted at you. 'don't laugh at me'

''sorry sorry babe you just look so cute'' You giggled before carring bride style. You walked out and people were staring at you and tash after all none of them ever seen black widow this... soft. As soon as happy saw it he rolled his eyes and told the other bodyguards they could take the rest of the night off knowing you murder them if they ever interrupted your kinky time with nat. ''please just make sure your naked ass doesn't end up on the news like your dad did.'' Happy said and you laughed at how your dad ended up drunk butt naked on the roof top after a wild party.

''don't worry about it i wouldn't let a media shit head near my wife''

You walked out to your car as people were shouting for your attention. Natasha had her head nuzzled into your neck making you smile. You gentle put her in the passenger seat and you drove off to a calm and quite place in the woods.

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maybe i will write a part 2?

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Safest with You (Ch. 12 - The Workout)

7.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din “work out” at Mando’s gym and you end up getting sick.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), reader ogles Din like a piece🥩, smut, unprotected PiV sex, semi-public sex (car), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk, light degradation, light daddy kink, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, bunny, etc.), description of flu symptoms (it's gross y'all), reader is described as shorter than Din and he strokes her hair while she's sick.

A/N: Oo! This is a long one; it's just because The Workout and The Cold used to be two chapters and I ended up shmushing them together. There was an ask about Din taking care of reader while she's vulnerable; I hope this chapter fulfills that ask! 🥰 Thank you as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

“You know, you can come work out at Mando’s, if you want.”

“Really?  That won’t be weird?  Like, I’m moving in on your space?”

“I like you in my space.”

Din says it like a simple statement of fact, not even looking up from the cutting board where he’s slicing the steak he grilled for dinner.  You’re not big on working out, but once in a while you just like to go for a run or a row and zone out to some TV; it’s not a regular thing so you don’t have a membership anywhere, and your building has a gym on the third floor that you can use whenever the urge strikes you (not often).  But this morning when you went downstairs, ready to put in the hour you needed to catch-up on your favourite trashy reality show, you had found a temporary closure notice on the gym entrance.

It's not a bad idea.  The weather is getting a bit chillier so your walks with Al haven’t been as long as both of you would like; it might be nice to have another option to get a little bit of exercise, “It’s okay if I just use the cardio machines?  I won’t use any of the weight lifting equipment or anything.”

“You can use whatever you like.  I’ll even have Jimmy fetch you water and towels.”

“Noooooo,” you make a face and shake your head.

“Yessssss,” he mimics you, “You’re the boss’ girl, you should be treated special.”

“You treat me special enough, for you and Jimmy both, thanks,” you say, still scrunching up your nose, but you tell Din you’ll take him up on his kind offer.

---

The next weekend, you leave Al snoozing on the Din’s bed and head down to the gym with the intention of saying hi to Din while he works, but also to run off some of the stress from the work week.  Like the gym in your building, there are enough empty machines so you have your pick, but unlike your gym, the patrons all seem to know one another and are treating their workouts like a social event.  Din’s helping out with the training today; you give him a little wave when you walk by the ring so not to distract him, and pick a treadmill off to the side so you can still see him and also simultaneously do some innocent people watching while you run.  Headphones on, your phone jacked in to the console so you can stream your show, you pick the program you want the machine to run and start your work out.

Your plan is almost immediately derailed.  As the familiar title sequence of your show starts to play, your eyes drift up past the screen and lock onto Din’s figure in the ring.  He’s sparring with Chris today; having already gone a few rounds while you were upstairs, both men are sweaty and breathing heavily, chests and shoulders heaving as they circle each other.  Din has sweated through his t-shirt so that it’s now sticking against his body, making him look even more immense than usual, and you openly gawk at the strong lines of his back and arms visible through the darkened fabric.  As if he’s somehow reading your mind, Din puts a pause on the bout in order to remove his wet shirt; it’s not an easy task given his gloves, but he manages it with some grace and the use of his teeth to pull and hold the collar.  When he finally whips the shirt over his damp curls, you’re treated to the sight of his thick, hard chest, glistening and flexing as he stretches out his arms; you feel a heat pooling below your abdomen and a flush spread across your chest that has nothing to do with your lackluster exercise efforts.

Far from doing any people watching like you had planned, you’re now struggling to make sure that you yourself don’t become a spectacle by openly drooling while you watch a shirtless Din fight in the ring.  Every one of his punches is quick and agile, arms extending perfectly to show off his control and precision; his muscles prominent and flexed, the veins on his forearms protruding as his gloved fists clench, ready for impact.  He’s a mammoth force, a powerhouse, somehow both immovable and unstoppable, and he looks good enough to eat.

You haven’t watched single a minute of your show and it’s actually getting to the point where the voices coming through your headphones are an unwelcomed distraction from the actual show you’re engrossed in, so you take off your headphones and place them next to your water bottle.  Big mistake.  Now, you can very clearly hear Din’s groans and pants as he ducks and punches.  It’s like the thirst trap video you’ve been watching all of a sudden turned up its pornographic soundtrack.  Din’s low, throaty grunts as he exerts himself, coupled with the words of praise you hear him shout out in his deep, encouraging baritone, have your mind running wild.

When Chris lands a hard punch to Din’s shoulder and you hear him grunt out, “Fuck!”, you nearly trip over your own feet. 

You’re pounding back your water, throat parched and sweating profusely, and you’re barely 20 minutes into the preselected program; you’re not even going to lie to yourself, the flush of your skin and your shortness of breath have absolutely nothing to do with this treadmill.  You’re about to admit defeat and cut the run short, thinking you could definitely benefit from a cold shower, when you see Chris and Din touch gloves, seemingly done training for the moment.  Din ducks under the ropes and starts taking off his gloves; as he walks past you, he throws a towel around his neck and you a quick wink.  Where is he going? You watch as he heads to the front of the gym, disappearing around the partition wall that rests between the front door and the main gym.

Without even thinking, you stop your machine, grab your things, and try to quickly and discretely follow.  You find Din outside, having put on a dry shirt, standing behind his truck with the trunk door opened above him as he rifles through the box full of equipment he keeps in the trunk.  Wordlessly, you put your things down on the trunk bed next to the box, surprising Din at your sudden appearance, “Hey pretty bird, what are you doing here?  It’s cold, you sh-“.  Taking his hand, you lead him to step back before pressing the auto-close button on the trunk door; as it folds down; you open the door to the back seat of the truck, and gently push Din to get in, with you following directly. 

Din chuckles as you situate yourself on his lap, straddling his thighs, looking at him with a hunger in your eyes, “Baby, what’s all th-?”.  He’s cut short when you silence him by throwing your arms around his neck and attach your lips to his, hard and hurried.  You’re embarrassingly pent up from the last 20 minutes of watching the hottest man you’ve ever known show off his power and skill on what was basically a stage you had a front row seat to, and now you need to feel the strength of those muscles on you, under you, fucking up into you.

“Want you,” you mumble against his lips, “…so turned on. Watching you.”  You’re barely able to string together your thoughts, you’re so consumed with exploring the cavern of Din’s mouth with your tongue, but Din gets the idea.  Feeling incredibly needy, you start lightly grinding down on Din’s lap, and he encourages you by placing his hands on your waist and helping guide your movements; even this light friction feels overwhelmingly good against your aching clit, and you throw you head back and cry out, unabashed and loud enough for anyone walking by Din’s car to hear. 

“Fuck, daddy, need you.  Please, please…” your mouth back to messy kissing Din’s as your hands thread through his damp hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck and earning you a deep growl from the back of his throat.

“Look at my desperate, pretty girl,” groans Din, eyes greedy as you take off your t-shirt, then your sports bra, letting your tits bounce in his face, “…can’t even go a whole work out without riding her daddy’s dick.”

Unable to wait another minute, you peel your wet shorts and panties off in one go, now completely naked, sweaty and panting on top of a still fully clothed Din. “Not my fault, daddy,” you pout as you press yourself down on Din’s clothed cock, making a wet mess of his gym shorts.  “You looked so fucking good in that ring, then you were making all those grunting noises. Couldn’t think of anything else but you filling me with your cock.  Ahh-,“ you gasp out loud as Din takes one of your nipples in his mouth, nibbling and rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth before sucking down and flicking it with his tongue.  You whine and increase the intensity and tempo of your movements while he moves to do the same to your other nipple, hand palming and tweaking the now abandoned breast.  Din’s free hand snakes its way down to your core only to find you slick with want, a sticky mess already coating your inner thighs and soaking through his shorts, “Messy, messy slut.  You get this wet just from watching me spar?  Good thing you followed me out here, can’t have you leaking all over the gym floor like this.”  He brings up his fingers so you can both see how your wetness coats his fingers, even though he has yet to insert them into you.  When he pulls them apart, you watch the fluid web that connects his fingers stretch, proof that your pussy is positively leaking; you whimper at the filthy sight and bring Din’s hand to your mouth, popping his fingers into your mouth so you can suck off your own arousal.  Moaning at the taste of your own indecency, you grind down hard against Din’s groin, his hard-on straining painfully against his shorts. 

“Fuck me,” you mumble, Din’s fingers still in your mouth.

“Let me make you come first, pretty bird,” Din pleads, always putting your pleasure first and wanting to lesson the sting of the first stretch of his cock within your tight walls.

“Can’t wait, daddy… please, I can take it, please.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” grits Din, as he pushes his shorts and boxers down; his leaking cock springing out and slapping against your stomach, coarse hair at the base tickling your clit and making you gasp in pleasure, “YES!  Please, daddy, need to bounce for you.”

You’ve never taken him without having come first, and if you weren’t so far gone, answering only to your lust, you would probably be worried; but as you line yourself up with Din, the shudder you get just from swiping his swollen head through you folds and tapping it on your clit makes it impossible to care about anything other than having him inside you right now.

Slowly, slowly you sink down on Din’s length, taking him a little at a time.  Din grips your waist tightly, eyes closed, forcing himself to breathe; you’re so incredibly tight this, warm cunt practically strangling him, he fights the urge to move and bury himself in you fully.  The stretch of Din’s fat cock is almost too much, your soft walls molding so tightly to him you can feel every ridge and vein as you slowly spear yourself downwards.  The pain doesn’t register so much as the overwhelming feeling of fullness, your body needing more time and space to accommodate Din’s thickness.  When he finally bottoms out, you just sit and sigh, sated from just warming his throbbing cock in your tight heat. 

Your lust driven frenzy quelled, you now rest serene in Din’s arms, drinking in his gentle kisses, soothing touches, and words of praise of how good you’re doing for him; Din worshipping you as you take his cock so perfectly, and you getting used to his size and relearning how to breathe.  Finally, finally, you look up at Din’s face to see his eyes filled with adoration, and your breathing evens, allowing you to kiss him with renewed passion.  Grinning against your lips, Din murmurs, “Thought you wanted to bounce, bunny?”

Pulling away slightly and grinning back, you nod and lift yourself up a little, then slowly push yourself down back down fully onto Din’s length again, eliciting a heady groan from you both.  You repeat the action, again and again, each time increasing the amount of Din’s length you work in and out of your pussy, until you’re panting and bouncing up and down on the full length of Din’s dick, “Feel so good, daddy.  So full.”

“So fucking pretty, bouncing on me like a whore, bunny,” groans Din, as he mouths at your tits.  You love his new pet name for you, the endearment spurring you to bounce harder and chase the high that’s been building since you saw him land a thundering cross punch to Chris’ jaw in the ring. 

“Love being your slutty bunny, daddy,” you cry, head thrown back in ecstasy, “wanna ride this cock until it’s all creamy.  Until it fills me up, ngh..ahhh-“

Din thinks he’s going to explode from your filthy words, then he knows he’s going to explode when he looks down at where the two of you are connected and sees a ring of white around the base of his cock, “Holy shit, baby.  Look at you already creaming around me.  My perfect bunny.  Doing so good riding this dick, taking me so well.  So fucking perfect.”

He presses one of his hands against your stomach, balls tightening when he swears he can feel some movement against his palm from the inside, and uses his thumb to draw his name on your swollen clit. 

It’s too much, too much.  The stretch and burning sting of having taken Din’s cock without much prep, his filthy words of praise, the lewdness of fucking in his car in broad daylight parked out in the open in front of his place of business, the tenderness of your new pet name, the delicious pressure on your clit – you come.  You come with a soundless scream, the stuttering of Din’s name punctuated by sharp gasps of air, you body shudders and shivers as you clench down hard on Din’s cock.  Hand threading, then fisting the hair at the base of your neck, Din fucks up into you as he praises you through your high.

“So fucking gorgeous when you come for me, pretty bird.”

“My little bunny did such a good job on daddy’s dick.”

“You feel so good, baby.  Made for me.”

You’re still so full, but now also so pliant and eager to please; with what remaining energy you have, you bounce down hard, meeting every one of Din’s upward thrusts so he bottoms out in you each time, the force of each drive has your ass jiggling as it slaps down on his thighs.  Din grunts and pants as he chases his own finish; you hug yourself around his neck, and babble, “Thank you for making your bunny come, daddy.  Felt so good to gush all over your dick.  Want to do the same for you, Din.  Please, please, fill me up.  Need your cum, please.”  Never one to deny you anything, Din comes with a roar, filling your pussy with rope after rope of his milky cum so you grow even fuller and continue to hum, “Thank you, thank you, daddy.”

Your post “workout” cooldown comprises of gentle strokes to the back, soft cradling of heads, and quiet words of devotion; tired and satisfied in Din’s embrace, you start to shiver, and this time not from pleasure.  Coming out into the cold air while sweating from a run, then getting naked in a colder car was probably not the smartest idea, but you hadn’t been really thinking about the well-being of your health at the time.  Din rubs his big hands over your arms to warm you up, “Pretty bird, let’s get you dressed.”  You find your gym clothes but the idea of putting on damp clothes is wholly unappealing, so Din reaches his long arms into the trunk and roots around for some spare clothes.  Stepping out of the truck in an oversized yellow Lakers t-shirt and Din’s sweatpants that you’ve rolled up multiple times, you realize it couldn’t be any more obvious what the two of you have been up to.

Getting your things from the trunk, you decide to go through the side entrance straight up to Din’s apartment to avoid any walk of shame embarrassment in the gym.  Giving him a parting kiss at the front door, you whisper, “Hope it’s okay we did that, Din.  Don’t want anyone to file a complaint against Mando’s.”  You look so cute, worried about the reputation of his business, Din can’t help but yank you against him via the waistband of his pants and give you a deep reassuring kiss, “Perk of being a Mando, pretty bird – no one can say shit to you,” before sending you upstairs with a spank.

---

You start to feel a tickle in your throat when you go to sleep on Sunday, and by the time you wake up for work on Monday, it’s a full-blown sore throat.  You trudge through a morning of meetings, trying to avoid the pounding of your head and attempt to soothe your throat with lozenges when your team gathers at the door to your office and point a makeshift cross made out of pens and rubber bands at you, telling you to go home.

You gather your computer and some files and tell them you’ll work from home until you’re better, but they insist you rest; you compromise and say you’ll be available by email before heading home.

Din is doing double duty again his week; although you haven’t voiced your concerns, you've noticed that Din’s been a little restless as of late, him and Paz meeting more frequently over an increasing number of border skirmishes and disputes that need to be handled.  You’re not sure if it’s anything serious, but you do know that the need to step up security has been weighing on Din – he himself stepping in and putting in more face time than he has since his retirement.  You call Din to let him know that you seem to have caught a cold, and you think it’s better if he doesn’t come over, in case he catches it too.  With him working long hours, you don’t want anything to risk him getting even less rest than he already is.  As expected, he protests, but you insist even though you will miss him.

The next morning you wake up feeling like hot garbage.  You slog through about two hours of work before making the executive decision to put your out-of-office on and reschedule you remaining meetings.  Your team tells you they don’t want to hear from you until next week but know you’re likely too stubborn to agree to that.  You take a bunch of drugs and wonder how you got sick.  You’re usually pretty healthy and while the weather is getting chillier, you’re not out much without being bundled up? 

Oh. 

Your drowsy brain flashes a vignette of sweaty bodies in the backseat of a car, windows fogging as the heat from illicit activities condense against windows cooled by the lower outside temperatures.   Of Din’s face buried into your neck, holding you close as you both calm down, your naked body cooling and shivering after your explosive highs.  So, this man really will be the death of me, you think, as you pass out.

You wake up groggy and with your throat on fire later in the afternoon.  Popping some more drugs, you reply to some work emails and the messages from your friends and Din checking in.  You know he’s doing another late night with the Mandos, so you downplay your symptoms a bit so he will acquiesce to your suggestion that he go straight home to rest again.  It’s easier to do over text; a phone call would have given away your loss of voice and sent him racing over.  With your friends, you can be more candid, I’m dying you tell them – they all immediately volunteer to come over but you tell them to stay away for their own sakes.  Going to bed early after taking Al out, you debate dinner but ultimately go without because you can’t handle swallowing any food.

Wednesday is… a blur.  You don’t even turn on your computer today or look at your phone.  You drag yourself out of bed, take Al out, feed Al, then curl up on the couch shivering.  Shit.  This is the flu.  Your muscles ache, your head is splitting open, and you can add a stuffed-up nose to your growing list of symptoms.  Using the energy you have left to grab more blankets, take some drugs and pull down the blinds, you’re guessing the fever is next. That or death.

It's dark when you finally wake up to your phone buzzing on the coffee table; you groggily look at the time, shoot, it’s 7 pm already? You don’t feel well rested at all.  You need to take Al out.  Ignoring the call and what you think are a bunch of missed notifications on your phone, you thrown on a jacket over your sweats and apologize profusely to Al while waiting for the elevator.  Once outside, you have to admit that the crisp cool air feels amazing against your hot skin, and you’re debating if you should risk taking Al for a short walk when your phone rings again.  You pick up when you see it’s Din, “Hubo?” you croak out, barely audible.

“Pretty bird… you sound terrible,” Din’s been worried about you all day.  He hasn’t liked the idea of you being alone and sick, but you were pretty insistent that it wasn’t anything to worry about while encouraging him to stay at his place.  He’s been feeling a bit off kilter being apart from you; even though he’s exhausted from pulling double duty with the Mandos, he misses at least seeing you and Al for your nightly walk.  Now he’s even more thrown when he realizes you’ve been downplaying the severity of your illness for whatever reason.

“Thanks,” you joke, but it doesn’t come out sounding jovial; in fact, it’s barely the sound of a scratch.

“Baby, I’m going to come over and-” Din starts to say when you interrupt, “No, no, you’ll get s-” before you’re stopped mid-sentence by a coughing fit.

Din’s already gathered his things and is getting in his truck by the time you’ve finished coughing, “I’m fin-” you’re saying when you’re cut out by the sound of a siren going by.

Din says your name.  He hardly ever says your name; it’s always pretty bird, or baby, or sweetheart, or some other endearment.  And he never says it in this low, warning tone, like he’s afraid of what he might say if he doesn’t say your name instead.  He repeats it, then, “Who is walking Al while you’re sick?”

Why do you feel like you’re in trouble whether you answer or not?  Your body clearly doesn’t want to get in trouble either because it figures the best thing to do is launch another coughing fit.

Din softens a little, “Pretty bird, get inside and get in bed, I’ll be over soon,” and he hangs up before you can attempt to argue.

When you and Al come in a few minutes later, you feed him and give him some fresh water, all while giving him as many fussings as you can muster as a continued apology for having ignored him all day.  You trudge over to the kitchen thinking you should eat something, clearly the lack of food has not been aiding your recovery, but as you peer in your fridge, the idea of having to prepare anything overwhelms you.  You pour yourself some orange juice and use it to wash down some more flu medication and then look through you phone at the messages you’ve missed while sleeping.  You’re mid-scroll when there’s a knock on your door; after opening the door, you quickly step back to let Din in and cover your mouth with your hand so you don’t breathe your germs all over him.

“None of that now, pretty bird,” Din says firmly, reaching for you and pulling you in close with one arm before planting a kiss on the top of your hot head. 

“You’ll get sick,” you murmur into his chest. 

“Then I’ll get sick,” he puts the bags he brought on the foyer table before gently shuffling you towards your bedroom.

When he sees that your made bed (when did you do that!?) does not look slept in, he tsks, “They say that doctors make the worst patients,” he lays you down after pulling the covers back, tucking you in after, “but I think it’s actually stubborn little girls that work in finance.”

His words are lighthearted but you know he’s worried about you, so you play along and whisper as loud as your painful throat will let you, “Sorry, daddy.”

Din kisses you on your forehead, “You’re burning up.  I wish you had let me come over sooner, baby.  Take care of you and Al.”

“Didn’t want to bother you, Din,” you murmur, snuggling down into your bed; just being in his very presence has relaxed you. That and the drugs kicking in, has you feeling pliant and snoozy.

“You never bother me, sweetheart.  Except maybe when you don’t tell me how sick you really are and you go out in the cold while you have a fever,” he says pointedly. 

You yawn and close your eyes, confessing, “You seem so stressed out with all the stuff that’s going on with the Mandos lately, Din.  Didn’t want to add to your load, make you feel like you have to come and see me and Al when you’ve already had a difficult day.”

“You ever think that maybe seeing you and Al is exactly what I need after a long hard day of seeing some bad shit go down?” says Din, quietly.

Your eyes open wide; you can’t believe you haven’t thought of it like that.  You know that anytime you’re having a bad day, it’s been made better the instant you see Din’s face, and even while you’ve been sick this week, you’ve longed for his soothing embrace.  Why didn’t you think it would be the same for him?  You sit up so fast you get dizzy, but throw your arms around Din’s shoulders and bury your face in his neck, “Oh baby, I’m so sorry.  You’re right, I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

“It’s okay, pretty bird.  You were just trying to take care of me.  You need to let me take of you too, okay?  I like taking care of you.”

You nod into him and let Din gently lay you down again.  As you snuggle back into your covers, you pat the other side of the bed, “Come and sit with me and tell me about your day and all the shit that’s been going on until I fall asleep.”

Din climbs onto the bed and starts to pet your hair, “Sounds good.  But whenever you wake up next, I’m going to feed you some soup, okay?”  You nod, and feel the bed jostle some more as Al hops up on the bed to join in on the family time.  He lays down between you and Din, resting his head on Din’s lap so Din can pat his head as well.

When you’re all settled in, Din looking like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, starts to share.  First you learn some background: in addition to the Fett family, there other powerful syndicates in play - The Pykes, the Hutts, the Guavians, to name a few.  You make a face when you remember Gorga Hutt and his slimey cronies from Jimmy’s fight night and Din chuckles as if reading your mind.  Apparently, years ago, before Boba rose to power, the rival gangs ran unchecked, and violence in the streets was a common occurrence.  Gangs constantly fighting for territory or profits made for a lot of instability and it was an unsafe time for Din’s neighbourhood as well as many others in the city.  Once Boba had built up sufficient territory and muscle to be taken seriously, he had called the families together and brokered a peace treaty; physical borders and commercial limits were drawn that minimized conflict and overlap of business interests, ensuring prosperity and minimizing bloodshed for all.  Din recalls for you how many of his earlier years as Boba’s enforcer were spent strengthening and defending these borders and boundaries.  Happily, for the most part things have been stable for many years; nothing is ever truly peaceful but everyone has been co-existing without issue. 

However, in the past month or so, something had shifted; little problems and violations have been occurring with increasing frequency. 

“What kind of problems?” you ask, you’re fighting sleep to make sure you don’t miss any of what Din is telling you.  Din sighs, “Things that if they were to happen as a one-off, wouldn’t necessarily be concerning. Like vandalism of a business under one family’s protection, or minor altercations among lower ranking members from rival families in public places, or even the theft of known family members’ property.”  Din rubs his face in frustration. There’s nothing to prove it but Din doesn’t feel that these incidents are isolated; there must be something bigger at play.  For now, the Mandos are being dispatched to put out these figurative (and in one case, literal) fires, and to beef up security where future infractions are likely to take place, but Din thinks they need to investigate these events as a whole to see if there is something more sinister behind it all.  It’s really been stressing him out.

Holding Din’s hand and stroking it so that you’re the one now comforting him, “I think you should trust your experience with this type of unrest. Plus, you don’t have any reason not to listen to your gut.  What does Paz think?”

“He agrees with me, but he’s the leader now and his orders are to quell and prevent further disturbances.  Any investigation has got to be secondary.”

“I see.  What do you think is going on?” you nuzzle Din’s hand with your cheek, letting him know he can think out loud with you.

Din rubs his chin, “I don’t think it’s a new player, they seem almost too careful.  None of the incidents ever hit any big enough targets or players that would lead to full scale retaliation.  So it has to be an existing family in order to be in the know.  The problem is, I can’t see any of the families risking all out war… for what?  A couple of corners?  The cost of a few repairs?”

Your analytical brain is turning, “Are the other families run like the Fetts?  I mean, when you say it can’t be one of the families, what you really mean is you don’t think it’s a family sanctioned plan or attack, like it isn’t approved by leadership? But, are any of the families big enough or loosely run enough that people could go rogue?  Or get away with stuff without their leaders knowing?”

“Hmmmmm… good point, pretty bird.  None of the other families are like the Fetts, actually.  Boba’s power never came from numbers, but from solidarity… stronger together, is the family motto.  Everyone knows what everyone is doing and we stick together, no secrets.  As I understand it, that’s not how the other families are run – they’re bigger for one thing.  And there’s a lot of segregation so no one knows everything. Everything is need to know and people sort of stick to their own lanes – it’s so no one amasses enough power within the organization to overthrow anyone.”  Din shrugs, “I mean, seems like a weird way to run things to me. What you're suggesting would still be risky, and I don’t know why someone would take that risk, but it's definitely possible we should be looking for people who are doing things without proper family sanction.”  Din grins down at you, “Smart girl.”

You smile back, “Really?”

“Really.  I can think of a few people I want to look into right off the bat.  You’ve given me lots to think about, pretty bird.  Now go to sleep.”

Yawning a big yawn, you close your eyes and smile, murmuring, “I helped.”

---

When you wake up, it’s nearly midnight; you’re groggy and still feverish, but your stomach is growling and there’s a delicious smell coming in from the kitchen.

You pad out to living room to find Din working on his laptop, a pair of reading glasses perched on his adorable nose.  When he sees you, he sets everything down on the coffee table, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Having decided that honesty is the best policy, you croak out, throat still scratchy, “Hungry.”

“Good!” Din guides you to the kitchen and gently helps you up onto a high top at the kitchen island. 

As Din takes out a bowl, you ask, “What’s that?”  Curious about the pot that’s simmering on the stove; you think it’s the source of the delicious aroma you woke to earlier. 

“Peli’s famous chicken noodle soup,” Din ladles some into a bowl. 

“You made this?”

“Yeah right.  No, Peli won’t share the recipe.  Says if we’re lucky she’ll will it to one of us when she dies.  Nah, she made this batch for you when she found out you were sick.”

“That’s so nice.  She didn’t need to do that.  I’ll have to bake her some cookies to thank her when I’m better.”

“She’ll like that, but she wanted to.  Pretty girl, don’t you get it?  You’re one of us now and we take care of each other.  You have more people than you know that have your back.”  He puts the steaming bowl of soup in front of you and tells you to wait.  Grabbing a blanket from the couch, he wraps it around you, tucking in your arms.  You manage a small laugh, “How am I supposed to eat my soup?”

“I’ll feed you,” he holds a hand up when he sees your expression, “you said you’d let me take care of you.”

You nod. It’s not in your nature to let people wait on you hand and foot, but you still feel bad for not telling Din how sick you were earlier so, you sit, bundled up on your chair, and let Din spoon the soup that he blows on to cool into you waiting mouth.  It’s incredible.  Even your stuffed up head can taste the explosion of flavours, the ginger clearing up your sinuses a bit, and the carrots, chicken and noodles all tender enough to be swallowed painlessly.  Din patiently feeds you the entire bowl, and you patiently let him; the look of relief and devotion that Din is giving you is enough to make you glad that you let him.  After you’ve brushed your teeth, Din sends you straight to bed, hardly needing any convincing to stay with you until you fall asleep.

The next day, Din calls out from work, both jobs.  He knows if he goes in, he’ll just be distracted by how you’re doing – plus, he’s making some headway in the investigative notes that he's making for Paz. He does all the walks with Al, and feeds you more soup.  He runs you a hot bath filled with eucalyptus bath salts and stays with you while you soak your achy muscles.  When he dries you, you try to give him a seductive look, but end up doubling over coughing and he tells you that while he still finds you very sexy even sick (Is that sarcasm?), you need to conserve your energy.  You make a face at him when he tucks you into bed.  You sleep.  By the late afternoon, you feel like you can sustain consciousness for more than an hour and you opt to lay on the couch and hangout with Din.  He puts on the comfort movie of your choice and massages your feet while you eat a yogurt.  You fall back asleep before the end of the movie, barely registering when Din turns it off and takes you back to bed.

It's past midnight when you wake up again and the first irrational thing you think is that you’ve somehow gone back in time and gotten sick again, but this time worse.  You feel disgusting.  Your nose is no longer stuffy, but that’s because the snot is now just free flowing out of your face.  You’re so snotty, in no time at all you’re surrounded by a ring of used tissues from having to blow your nose so much, and there’s no end in sight.  Your sore throat and dry cough, which had been clearing up, have been replaced with rattling phlegm which you can’t seem to clear no matter how hard you hack, but you try until your eyes water.  Ewwwwwwwwwwww. 

Din, appears in your doorway when he hears you, “Baby, you okay?”

You look up at him, squinting through your tears at his sleep tousled hair and the wrinkles on the pajamas he must have changed into.  You woke him.  And this is the thing that just breaks you and you start to cry for real.  He rushes over, scared, “Pretty bird, does something hurt?  Let me make it better.”  His obvious concern and caring tone of voice just make you cry harder, and now you’re snotting even more.  Great.  You hate that he’s seeing you like this.  You’re not the smart, pretty, funny girl he dates, you’re this weak thing, sick and tired and gross.  Totally unsexy.  Completely unhelpful.  Needy.  Putting so much on him.  He can’t even get a decent night’s sleep around you. 

You don’t realize you’ve said this all out loud until Din tuffs out a little laugh.  He climbs onto the bed and sits right across from you taking your hands in his, kissing them. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay.  I’m here.”

“No, it’s not,” you choke out between sobs, “You shouldn’t have to be here.”

Din sighs, but it’s not a sigh of exasperation, but of understanding; he tips your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m not here because I have to be, I’m here because I want to be.”

“Why?  I’m so gross.”

Smiling, Din patiently explains, “Why?  Because I love you, pretty bird, that’s why.”

Your eyes widen; your drowsy brain isn’t sure you heard him right, “You love me?”

He nods at you kindly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  But to you, in your current state, you can’t comprehend it, “Like this?”

Din lets out a deep laugh, one that fills the room, and he strokes your hair and looks lovingly at you, “Yes.  I love you like this.  Like the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, one who never ceases to think of the welfare and comfort of others even when she’s in an obvious state of discomfort herself.  Like someone I truly love taking care of because it’s such an honour to take care of her.  She’s strong and capable, and she doesn’t really need me and never asks anything of me, but trusts me enough to let me be around her when she’s not feeling strong and capable even though she is definitely still all those things.  It’s an honour to be good enough to take care of you, pretty bird, because the only person that can do the job properly is you, and it’s an honour to come second to you for anything.”

“Yes, I love you like this.  And I love you when you’re playing with Al, when you’re sneaking the treats you bake to Jimmy when you think Greef isn’t looking, and when you’re happy just to keep me company while I work.  I love you when just the sight of you brings a peace into my life that I didn’t know was possible, and when you laugh, or call me ‘old man’ or when you listen to me talk about the Mandos and never judge.  I love you when I see your name pop up on my phone and when you hold my hand when we walk Al together.”

“I love you all the time, pretty bird.”

Now you’re crying for a different reason, though no longer hysterical; just silent tears running down your face as you come to the obvious but inescapable conclusion about your connection to this magnificent force of a man in front of you, “I love you, too, Din.”

And you do.  You do love him.  You love all that he is, all that he’s capable of, and all of who he chooses to be on a daily basis.  You love his kindness, his protectiveness, his compassion, his gentleness.  You love that he lives by a code that values loyalty, respectfulness, and helping others, and he practices this creed in every little thing he does.  You love his playfulness, and his sharp wit, and how being able to make him laugh feels like an incredible accomplishment and when you do it, you just immediately want to do it over and over again.  You love that he always makes you feel wanted and cherished, but never treats you like you’re breakable.  You love how he’s constantly pushing up his reading glasses, and thinks they make him look old but will blush when you tell him how attractive you find them.  You love him when he’s bringing you and your work team dinner and remembers that someone’s gluten free.  You love him when he places his hand on your thigh when he’s driving, and you love him when he pushes up your sleeves when they start to slip when you’re washing dishes even without you asking him to.  Yes, you love him all the time too.

You can’t tell him all that right now, though; you’re too sick and sleepy, but you think you’ll be able to tell tomorrow.  And the day after.  And the day after that.  For now, you love him by letting him love you, snot and all.  Clearing away all the tissues on your bed, you lay back down and scoot backwards towards of the middle of the bed, making a space for Din and hold your arms out, I need you.  Din’s smile spreads wide across his face, relieved and content, he climbs in and wraps you up in his arms.  Stroking your hair, your back, as your breathing evens.

Drifting off, you roll over so your back is pressed to Din’s chest, taking comfort in feeling him there, a physical and proverbial wall for you to lean on, “Good night, Din.  I love you.”

“I love you more, pretty bird.  Good night.”

[pony4eva]

PRP: Alright, how'd you guys get together?

Little Jimmy Urine: I was sellin Pokemon on da Home Shoppin Network...Steve, Vanessa, & Kitty all called to buy Charmander at the same time & I had just sold the last one...so we decided to come together under one flag & start a dental referl service...the bands jus a hobby.

PRP: Just what is an "Uppity Cracker"?

Little Jimmy Urine: Some dumb honkey who don't know when to keep his fuckin mouth shut.

PRP: Is Little Jimmy's Jimmy really little?

Little Jimmy Urine: It's 7-8 in. hard but not thick. It's bascially a quill. You can sign da Decleration of Indapenpants with it. Talk to Steve. He's my pee pee agent.

PRP: How did you get the nickname "Little Jimmy Urine"?

Little Jimmy Urine: It was the one stupid thing no one ever called me before.

PRP: Rumor has it you lit your penis on fire on stage once, how was that?

Little Jimmy Urine: Warm.

PRP: Whose Idea was it to make "Backmask" have subliminal messages?

Little Jimmy Urine: My mom's.

PRP: Ever afraid that Led Zepplin fans will kick your ass after hearing "I Hate Jimmy Page"?

Little Jimmy Urine: 1st - Any one could kick my ass. 2nd - If some 45 year old hippie wants my ass, more power to him. 3rd - If you're 17 & in great shape & you like Led Zepplin enuff to hurt me, you gotta stop hangin out with your old man & stop lettin your mom dress you in Pink Floyd shirts.

PRP: Does Steve really play a 4 string guitar?

Little Jimmy Urine: Unless he breaks a string. Then he plays a 3 string.

PRP: Is pubic hair trimming a necessity?

Little Jimmy Urine: No, it's a pleasure. It's ass hair that's the necessity.

PRP: Just which of your friends are dicks for?

Little Jimmy Urine: The ones who let me watch them pee in their pants.

PRP: If you had to pick one kung fu styling to be what would it be?

Little Jimmy Urine: Kitty - Wingchung Vanessa - Guns Guns Guns Steve - Ball Smell Urine - Pay Atenchung Tome

PRP: Is it hard to transfer all the programming to the live show or do you leave some out when on stage?

Little Jimmy Urine: Fuck it. Punk rock. Press play, smash it up.

PRP: Are the Insane Clown Posse as hard as they act?

Little Jimmy Urine: Maybee it was our purrrfume...and I don't wanna get no one in trouble but...dey were sweet as hell to us.

PRP: You guys covered Method Man's "Bring The Pain", do you got heavy hip hop roots or do you just think you can really bring the pain?

Little Jimmy Urine: A good song is a good song, no matter if it's Rap, Cuntree, Opera, purrty, hard, stupid, serious, or cheesy. I hate everything and love lil bits of everything. Wow. A serious answer. Shit. Now I'm gonna have to tell you all about chinchillas to make up for not being an ass. At the age of 8 months chinchillas are put into "families". One male has four females which are placed separately and the male can visit them through a special "male corridor". The mother animals wear a "collar" around their neck wich does not allow them to fit in the male corridor. This is the poligam way keeping chinchillas. Pregnancy lasts for 111 days and mother whelp their 1-4 offsprings without any help. The animals are born with their eyes open and their few days age start to eat spagettios.

PRP: Has Meth ever heard the cover or commented on it to you guys?

Little Jimmy Urine: He had to hear it to aprove it & he had to at least be able to stang it to let me put it out.

PRP: Are Kitty and Vanessa the toughest in the band?

Little Jimmy Urine: Dat was a no brainer.

PRP: Just what do you think Clarissa isn't smart enough to explain?

Little Jimmy Urine: Why her snaggle teeth turn me on.

PRP: You say nigga alot, do you realize that you're white?

Little Jimmy Urine: I'm acutally a Spic/Kraut, but for all extenssive purpose's, I'm white cuz I like Spaghettio's with franks.

PRP: Do you ever fear black people kicking your ass?

Little Jimmy Urine: No, I fear white people, cuz they is scary as shit.

PRP: How is the lawsuit going with the people that ran www.mindlessselfindulgence.net?

Little Jimmy Urine: Makin me poor & stupid.

PRP: Did you ever wear your clothes backwards back when Kriss Kross was popular?

Little Jimmy Urine: Who didn't?

PRP: Why will "Frankenstein Girls Seem Strangely Sexy"?

Little Jimmy Urine: Cuz it sounds cool. If I ever answer a question with "I had an intense dream...," you have the right to slap me & start again.

PRP: On your promo tape for "Bitches" you're pushing away the old ladies who want autographs, why are you doing this, do you not respect the elderly?

Little Jimmy Urine: Are you kiddin? When we finished the shoot, I hit dat shit.

PRP: Why do you have to rock the booty before you rock the body?

Little Jimmy Urine: Cuz da crunch always gives you away.

PRP: What's your favorite movie?

Little Jimmy Urine: Lawerence of Arabia, Ladies & Gentelmen the Fabulos Stains, & any thing else beginin wit da letter L.

PRP: If you could be any gang from the movie "The Warriors" which would it be?

Little Jimmy Urine: Shit, bitch...the orphans, cuz then youu get to fuck muh sister.

PRP: Big Bird Vs. the Teletubbies in a no holds barred street fight, who would win?

Little Jimmy Urine: Who cares? Seseme Street is all about Rosita da underground muppet. She ain't no sell out, she's punk rock. She ain't on no lunch box & she's bi-lingual.

PRP: What's the worst album you have?

Little Jimmy Urine: Where do i start? Well, besides mine, the worst I own is probably INXS - Kick. The worst I actually still listen to & like is Nu Shooze - I Can't Wait 12 in. & Noel - Silent Morning.

PRP: Who would you love to collaborate with?

Little Jimmy Urine: I never heard it called dat before.

PRP: How many pink suits do you own?

Little Jimmy Urine: One & I never washed it all summer...on two tours...& I spit up on it, pissed on it, lit it on fire, bled all over it, ripped it to bits, & gave it away at the Orgy show.

PRP: Many people are dying to know, do you do crack on a regular basis?

Little Jimmy Urine: No, I eat 4 Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, shake up a bottle of Cherry Coke & down it in one shot. It gets the same effect.

PRP: What are you guys trying to achieve with your new album?

Little Jimmy Urine: Piss people off, get paid for pissing people off...people now more pissed off & we have their money.

PRP: Is it hard to get on a national tour with such an eclectic sound?

Little Jimmy Urine: I'm here talking to you instead of gettin muh ass beat, righ?

PRP: Ever had sex with a teddy bear?

Little Jimmy Urine: No, but I used to be able to suck muh own dick.

PRP: Are you really this insane or is it an act?

Little Jimmy Urine: Maybee I'm act & your insane. Huh? Did you ever think of dat smart guy? Huh? Maybee I'm act & you're all insane.

PRP: You seem to cut your knees up alot, why is that?

Little Jimmy Urine: Cuz I land on them when I jump.

PRP: Is there any explanation to why your last album "Tight" is being discontinued?

Little Jimmy Urine: It's funny.

PRP: Do you honestly feel your music is best described as "Industrial Jungle Pussy Punk"?

Little Jimmy Urine: Just da pussy part.

PRP: Did you get beat up alot as a kid?

Little Jimmy Urine: No, I got ignored alot.

PRP: Any plans to tour in support of the album?

Little Jimmy Urine: Hell fuck yes.

PRP: I have run out of questions, are you glad the interviews over? 

Little Jimmy Urine: It's over?

PRP: I lied, any shoutouts or shameless self promotion you want to spit out?

Little Jimmy Urine: I'm down to muh last can of soup. Go buy my record & I promise not to make another one.