#Five More Minutes

[icallhimjoey]

this might be too close to your most recent but possible ficspiration? I'm stressed and run down and I think you are too, and I woke up today just wanting a lazy lie-in morning with our soft boyfriend to make the real world go away. bonus points for a lil soft smut.

everyone deserves a soft lil joey who just wants a lazy little lie in with us so here you go - enjoy! (tw: lil teeny tiny bit of smut) Wordcount: 2.5K

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Five More Minutes

"Mhmm... five more minutes." You tucked duvet where there wasn't any yet and curled up tight, ducking into your shoulders, ready to ignore real world chaos for at least a little while longer.

Five more minutes longer.

You weren’t sure when the words slipped into your bloodstream and became part of you. If they were already there before Joe, or if it had born into life just from being with him. 

Of course, you’d said them a thousand times before.

Everyone did. 

But it was a real habit now. A thing you did. Your subconscious had grown accustomed to forming the words when sleep even only slightly threatened to slip away upon waking. 

Five more minutes. 

You could be on an airplane, being tapped on the shoulder by a flight attendant and you’d tell them, “Five more minutes.” getting giggles from everyone within earshot. Or you could be on your own sofa on a weekend afternoon being woken up by the doorbell ringing and you’d tell an empty flat, “Five more minutes.” and then would have to go and collect whatever delivery you’d missed at the post office later.

You’d mutter it to no one, to strangers, but more often than not; you’d say it to Joe.

Five more minutes. 

You’d always say it. Even if you didn’t have five minutes to spare, and also if you’d have all day to snooze - the words would slip out before you'd even know it, inaudible and unintelligible, strung together with sleep, but you’d always say them. 

And then, after spending enough time together, Joe started doing the same. 

"Mhmm... five more minutes." Joe was the one to say it that morning, voice barely there, just a low rumble of noise.

You had to reach over him to stop the alarm on his phone from increasing in volume, and Joe took advantage of your body being close by wrapping both his arms around your middle, keeping you there.

"Joe..."

"Hmm," Joe groaned, body sleep warm, but his grip deceptively strong seeing as he was barely awake. "Five more min–..." Joe didn't even finish the words, ending on a sigh as he nosed at your cheek.

It took just about all of your willpower to not give in and just fall back asleep right on top of him.

You knew Joe would let it happen.

He'd easily ignore every responsibility if it meant cuddling with his favourite person underneath his sheets for however long he wanted.

He couldn’t pull you in close enough if he tried; he wanted you to share the same pillow, to breathe in the scent of your skin as his nose pressed into your neck. 

Joe wanted your weight on top of him forever, one hand free to hold your ass, the other free to touch whatever else he wanted; drawing lines down your side, finger tips sneaking under your top to crawl along your back, leaving shivers in their wake.

Joe just wanted a lifetime of this, even longer if it existed, but if five more minutes were all he was going to get, he’d take it, and was that really too much to ask?

"Joe..." his name left your lips in a murmur that you tried to make sound like a threat - like anything you could ever say in his bed could sound like a threat.

Silly.

Joe skillfully ignored you, mouth grazing over your cheek as one of his hands squeezed your hip tightly before slipping up and under your T-shirt.

And it was lovely. Warm and soft and gentle and, just, lovely.

But you knew Joe didn't have the time.

When Joe's palm started rounding out to your front to find new bits to grab at, you groaned loudly and tried to actually fight his grip this time.

"No, babe, I love you, but you have to get up."

You sat up, now straddling the boy, duvet falling down the back of you, exposing Joe to the temperature of the room and it made him flinch before curling up to preserve whatever warmth he could.

"Five more–" Joe tried once more, face burying deeper into his pillow, one arm reaching out to pull you back, but you were already gone. Up and out. Pushing the duvet even further down the bed in a bid to make sure Joe couldn't easily snuggle back up under.

"How dare you..." Joe gasped, already sounding more awake, humour hidden somewhere in his vowels.  

"Well," you smiled, using both arms to open the blinds, bathing Joe in morning sunlight. "I said I love you and you didn’t say it back, so..." you reasoned, giving a slight shrug of a single shoulder.

"Um, I don't want to alarm you," Joe started, not ready to give in just yet, now bending into shapes to reach for a corner of the duvet, "But I love you so much I don't think you fully understand."

You scoffed as you walked past the bed, a quick hand moving the duvet even further out of Joe's reach, making him grumble in defeat.

"You calling me stupid?" you teased, grinning at Joe's failed attempt to get back into bed the way he wanted to, and you started collecting an outfit from his wardrobe.

"No," Joe said, now finally sitting up, vanquished by the morning. His hair went every which way, a look you fucking loved on him, but a look you know Joe hated.

"You’re the smartest person I know, which actually is a real testimony to this amount of love I’ve got cooking for you."

Sat with his bum sunken into his mattress and tummy rolls on show, Joe rubbed a hand over his face and had to squint when he stared straight into the sun for a second.

"Yea?" you asked, arms full of clothes, stepping closer to the bed for a quick morning smooch before you'd jump into the shower.

Joe got the hint immediately, head tipping back to get you right on the lips.

"Cook me breakfast instead."

It was easy to get up and drag Joe out of bed on mornings where you'd actually gotten enough sleep in the night. When the evening before you'd been sensible and had gone, night babe, slipping into bed without waiting up for Joe.

But then the nights where you did wait up for Joe, where you forgot about your early morning for a second and stayed up late together; those mornings were tough and left you to be the one to whine for an extra five minutes.

You were still half asleep when the fresh scent of shower reached your nose.

The rustling of Joe getting dressed is what pulled you from your slumber more, and when you peeked with a careful squinty eye, you saw how the sun was barely even up yet.

Illegal.

Joe had no business dressing up into a button-up this early in the morning.

You were about to turn over to see if your prediction was correct, if Joe really was partaking in criminal behaviour before dawn, but before you could, you were slapped right out of your soft snoozy state.

Not Joe's fault that your ass peeking from the covers, all round, all deserving of a little lovetrap, distracted him mid getting ready.

You groaned loudly at the shock, the sharp fraction of a second of pain already gone before it even fully registered, and before you could even complain about it, Joe lovingly rubbed a large palm over the now reddening skin.

"Good morning."

"Noo," you whined, reaching behind to push his hand away so you could try to cover yourself up more.

"Five more minutes."

Joe let your hand find his to tangle fingers together, and if you weren't after some morning cuddles over the covers, you really should have been more clear.

Air was pushed from your lungs when Joe let himself fall right on top of you, trapping your arms in between you a little weirdly, and you felt on your face that Joe's hair was wet from his shower still.

You knew this was likely Joe's stupid way of waking you up where he thought you'd find him annoying enough to push him off of you in a struggle he wasn't going to let you win easily.

However, Joe was wrong.

Instead of fighting him off, you shifted onto your back, just enough to where you felt comfortable with Joe's full bodyweight on top of you and got both your arms around his neck, trapping him right where you wanted him.

You'd get him back another time for the brutal ass-slap.

This was prime snuggly morning time, and Joe smelt all fresh and clean, teeth brushed and skin moisturized, and it wasn't your fault that morning cuddles just happened to be infinitely better than late night ones. You'd be sleep soft like you were now, and Joe wouldn't hesitate to sink heavy limbs over your frame; you somehow never overheated in the morning.

And, listen. Who was Joe to deny you this bliss?

You could have five more minutes of this, no questions asked.

"I've got coffee waiting," he murmured into your ear after a while, no sign of him moving to get up yet, though.

"Hmm, that's okay, you can have it cold." you whispered back, eyes closed, nose nuzzling into the skin by his ear.

You felt Joe's stomach muscles pull as he silently laughed.

"Iced coffee." you simply said just before you felt Joe try to pull free from the headlock you had him in.

"Room temp doesn't count as iced," he argued softly, leaning back just far enough to get a good look at your face. The cheek that had been pressed to his tinged slightly red. Joe couldn't help smile at it.

"How do you wake up this good looking?" Joe started, and before he'd even finished his sentence, you were already frowning through a smile, clearly disagreeing. Made him laugh.

"No, I'm serious, here you are, two seconds after waking up, a literal, like, Disney princess, whereas I– did you see me? I wake up and it's, it's honestly shocking, I'm all," Joe pulled a face that was meant to be ugly, but was just him raising his eyebrows whilst squinting both eyes shut. Made you laugh.

He looked at you like that a second until you leant up and planted a kiss right on his mouth.

You felt how Joe's slow grin grew into the kiss and for a moment, you thought maybe if you held onto Joe tightly enough, you'd be able to coax him back into bed with you.

Just for a little while.

Five more minutes.

But then Joe broke the kiss, and instead of feeling Joe's slow smile, you got to look at it for a moment as he hovered over you a second too long.

If he had places to be, surely those places could wait, you thought.

Joe had a literal Disney princess in his bed, he'd just said.

"Five more minutes?" you asked softly, both your hands finding Joe's cheeks to cup.

You couldn't help thinking how Joe looked nice. Pretty. Skin shiny from scrubbing and hair kept in place by how wet it still was.

"Hmm," Joe mused, leaning into your touch and closing his eyes a second. "You can have all the more minutes you want, but I..." Joe inhaled sharply. "I have to get going."

You groaned with annoyance, head dropping backwards deeper into your pillow, but the wallowing only lasted a second, because as he struggled his way back onto his feet, Joe got you with kisses to your chin, jaw, cheeks, nose and eventually, your lips.

Promises of cooking dinner tonight at a normal hour were made, and whilst doing up the last of his buttons, you started saying, "Hate to see you go," of which Joe knew exactly how the quote ended. As he walked out, he stopped right at the threshold to lean into his hip, popping his booty, his face doing the absolute most trying to suppress a smile as you finished, "But I love to watch you leave."

It wasn't so bad being woken up by Joe before the sun was even up if it meant he left you in a fit of giggles.

But the best mornings?

The best mornings were the ones where you both had no place to be.

Where you just got to add five more minutes to five more minutes to five more minutes.

Mornings where you'd wake up and would whisper, "Five more minutes..." and reached for Joe who'd greedily accept you into his arms and would say it right back, "Five more minutes."

Where you'd try to crawl into each other's skin, early morning light warming your tangled legs that stuck out from under the covers.

Where words knitted together with sleep as Joe asked, "Hey, you know what day it is?" and you'd sleepily answer, "Saturday?" and Joe'd reply, "That's right, just another day." as he'd pull you into him tighter.

Where you were still soft with sleep as Joe's front curved to your back and an arm curled around which you got to hug close, using his hand to rest your head into.

Where the need to be close became so overwhelming that Joe would make sure he got you on top of him exactly how he wanted, one hand grabbing at the fat of your bum whilst the other snuck around into your underwear.

Where a soft, "Hmm?" was enough of a question, and "Mhmm." was enough of an answer for Joe to push himself inside, not enough strength to hold his head up, but just enough to buck his hips up and hold your thigh in place.

Where he'd groan to your whines, warm palm running flat across the curves of your waist underneath your top, teasing the soft skin just under your boobs.

Where the sex was so slow and lazy, it would go on for ages, neither of you in a rush to really go anywhere, essentially spoon-fucking yourselves slowly awake.

Where eventually someone's stomach would rumble and Joe would start whispering things into your ear about breakfast in between his own panting and the frequent oh-fucks he'd let slip out.

"What if we, ahh, what if we went and got coffee," Joe'd mumble, kissing you over your shoulder, breath hot, skin sticky. "And then go to the shops, get– oh fuck, get bagels, yea? Maybe some bacon, and eggs?"

And you'd whine at the suggestion, barely managing to squeak out, "Avocados." which would for whatever reason make Joe push in extra deep and moan so loud, it'd make you laugh.

Joe would make you orgasm, just before he'd come himself, and in your come down, he'd murmur a soft, "Five more minutes." as he burrowed his nose into your skin.

And you'd agree, "Five more minutes.", hiding both of your bodies underneath the covers, ready to ignore real world chaos for at least a little while longer.

Five more minutes longer, to be exact.

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The Taglisted

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add yourself

[beccawise7]

Five. More. Minutes.

Just... Five. More. Minutes of you.

~beccawise7 💜🖤

[autisticlenaluthor]

Supercorptober - Kara

TW: Grief

There’s a plastic pillow Kara sleeps with every night. It’s blue and crunches when laid against, with a thin white case that falls off whenever jostled. It’s so flat— flat like a pancake or another sheet. At least, that’s how Eliza tries to justify it when Kara catches her trying to throw it out while cleaning her room. 

Kara takes the thing back with a speed she didn’t know she possessed and returns it to her bed, making sure it’s known that she is keeping her pillow for as long as she lives. She needs it the way she needs air, and that explanation is bursting to escape. It’s the last thing she has, her last real connection. But there’s no way to say that, no way to ever give its meaning justice when Kara knows Eliza will never truly get it.

Because she was in the waiting room when Kara went with Casey and the EMTs who took a sleeping Lena, still in her bed, up to the helipad on the roof. She didn’t see the helicopter (the life flight, as the hospital called it) and all the medics standing around it, waiting for Lena’s arrival. No, Kara was the one who felt the frigid wind rushing through her hair, prickling at her face from such a height, it made her nauseous just to stand. 

She was the one who felt the chilling loneliness. That indescribable twinge in her chest as she watched them move, counting down seconds in her head until Lena was taken from her. Kara had stood, on an island by herself, surrounded by people, as she watched her best friend be slowly and strategically transferred from her bed to a stretcher, where she was strapped down at the legs, stomach, and chest. She’d been holding her breath when they made the switch, and has been clinging to it ever since. 

When Lena was finally moved, Kara was the one who was handed the plastic pillow she had been lying on for three weeks straight when Casey carefully swapped it out for a clean one. Kara took it and hugged it close to her chest, while Casey adjusted the blankets and stroked Lena’s cheek with her palm. 

Six months later, and Kara’s still hugging that pillow every chance she gets. 

She doesn’t have Lena anymore. She doesn’t know if anyone does.

But she has the thing that kept her best friend comfortable. And on the days when the world seems especially quiet, it makes it that much easier for Kara to keep looking for her.

She sees her in twilight skies, when the air is filled with stars and the orange sunrise after another sleepless night. In the bracelet that hangs from Kara’s wrist, made of string now tinted brown from dirt and wear, so unlike the vibrant green and orange thing it was three years ago. It makes Kara cry at first when she sees a picture of how it used to look; so pretty and put together. But like so many other things, she learns to be okay with it. Because to be loved is to be changed and nothing has changed her more than Lena. 

Lena’s nowhere. But she’s everywhere. 

And suddenly, Kara is eleven years old again, thinking about the girl who bought her vending machine candy and made friendship bracelets with her to distract her from the fact that her parents were dying. She’s looking for Lena in every stranger on the street and every shadow she passes. Wondering if one day, she’ll get lucky and sprain her ankle or break a finger and see her in an Urgent Care waiting room.

She looks for signs the way she does with her parents.

When two bluejays land on Kara’s windowsill on the first day of spring, she knows undoubtedly it’s her mom and dad coming to say hello. And when she spots a double rainbow while walking home from school with Alex in a thunderstorm, she can feel it’s the two of them looking out and making sure they get home safely. 

But with Lena, they’re a double-edged sword. It stings when she’s reminded of just how much she doesn’t know and it stings when she’s hit with the reality that maybe Lena really is gone and maybe these moments aren’t just the universe letting her know she’s alright.

It hurts in ways she’ll never be able to explain to lose both parents in an instant. But for all that pain, at least Kara will never have to wonder again if it’s real. She’ll never fear for the day she’ll be told they were out there all this time but now, they’re dead. 

Kara thinks back to that evening on the helipad more often than she’ll admit. When she’s alone in her room, hugging Lena’s pillow close (the last thing she touched. The last thing of hers) it becomes increasingly harder to filter out those thoughts. 

It was never an emergency. They were transferring her to another hospital– one in Metropolis that the Luthors had bought for her. It was a newer facility with doctors who had bigger names and researchers who in seconds, could put the ones in Gotham to shame. 

Casey had said it was better this way. It meant they’d get to say ‘see you later’ (not goodbye, never goodbye) – a luxury not every loved one gets. And perhaps this hospital was an act of love from the Luthors. They were putting Lena’s needs before theirs, and that had to stand for something. 

Kara doesn’t know.  She doesn’t know anything, except that Lena’s a hundred miles away, or in another world, and still, she consumes her.

She’s the reason Kara checks out medical textbooks from the library that she studies instead of her homework. She’s why Kara gets on her knees before bed and for the first time in years, prays to a God she isn’t sure she believes in anymore (because what kind of God could allow one person to lose their world so many times?). She asks for Lena to still be alive because she deserves a chance to get away from all the hatred in her life and to finally live for herself. She asks for her to be healthy and in remission, with the beautiful, thick hair, she’s spent the past three years missing. 

And even though it feels selfish– her problems pale in comparison to cancer, Kara asks for a sign. A real one to show Lena is still out there. 

In the weeks that follow, she feels ridiculous for hoping. It’s like throwing a penny into a fountain and asking for a thousand dollars– those things never come true.

Until one day, she stops at the library after school instead of going home. The librarian stops her before she can find the non-fiction section and asks Kara to come to the front desk. 

Kara does as she’s told, wrapping her fingers around her backpack straps as she waits to be told she’s finally been caught on overdue books or she’s being kicked out for coming in without an adult. But there’s nothing. No scolding. No reprimanding. 

“You’re always reading those medical books,” the librarian says instead. “So I set one of these aside for you. I thought you might find it interesting. Came in yesterday.” 

She pulls out a magazine and hands it across the table to Kara. It’s thick like a book with glossy paper– the kind of thing they keep in doctors’ offices and hospital waiting rooms. And when she sees the cover, Kara nearly faints. 

It’s Lena. Fourteen-year-old alive Lena. Lena, who has short, dark curly hair. Lena, who is free of her NG tube and central line, who wears makeup– real makeup, and freckles on her cheeks from finally going outside. 

Lena Luthor - the Medical Marvel of the Oncology World, the cover reads. The most incredible nine words Kara has ever seen.

She can’t help the way she beams down at the photo. Her heart pounds so hard it feels like it could beat right out of her chest, but Kara doesn’t care. Lena is alive and she’s okay. 

For the first time in seven months, Kara feels like she can breathe again. 

[grantofalltrades]

Push the button, Frank!

[ddoubleblindd]

She makes it very difficult to get out of bed.

Gorgeous fanart of Keke by Lady Toast.

[ladyelainehilfur]

[gemwing1988]

There’s one of those days that you’d rather stay in bed. 😮‍💨

[headlesssamurai]

[oliviabensonismywife]

TedBecca - Five More Minutes 💔

[oliveoomph]

Jenna Ortega in Wednesday (2022)

s01e04 "Woe What a Night"

[machetelanding]

[autisticlenaluthor]

💯💯 (write 200!)

“So you’ve never liked someone?” 

Kara paused. 

She watched the way Lena drew her bottom lip between her teeth and the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest. Wondered the way she had a million times before if the way she watched her, the way she noticed, were all too much. 

“I think…” She stopped, mentally questioning if she were allowed to put it all into words. “I might have?” 

“Oh,” Lena responded. It was so quick Kara never noticed the way her face fell or the disappointment that crept through her voice.  “Was it a boy from school?”

“No. Not someone from school.” 

Lena took a minute then nodded. She sat up too, looking just past Kara’s eyes. 

“Did he know?” 

Kara cringed at the sound of the he.

The boys she knew were callous and cold. They yelled in the halls, interrupted their teachers, and threw things in the cafeteria. They made the smaller, quieter kids into jokes. 

The feelings Kara had… based in warmth and security, she wasn’t sure she could ever imagine allowing a man to hold them. 

“No, I never said anything,” she said eventually. 

It was risky, Kara knew, to talk about it that way. To treat it like they were normal, or okay, even.

“Sometimes I think about it, but I’d always chicken out.” 

“Why?” 

God, she’d never wanted Lena to stop talking more than she did now.

“Because I don’t know if I’d ever want them to know,” she said. “Like… we were good friends. And I just… care about them a lot. And if they didn’t like me, things would get weird and awkward. Like… you stop seeing each other as the same friends, you know?” 

Kara stopped for a second and looked down at her hands. 

“But there’s other stuff– like I’ve never kissed anyone and I know they haven’t either, but like, what if I’m really bad at it, and that ruins things? Or if I realize I actually hate kissing.”

Lena opened her mouth– trying to interject, but Kara didn’t seem to notice. 

“I just didn’t want to lose them. Like… I’d rather sit on whatever it was than lose a friend. I can handle that part, I’m good at just dealing.” 

When it seemed like she had finally finished, Lena nodded and looked in her direction. She fidgeted with Benny in her lap, twisting the deflated arms around her fingers. 

“Yeah… you shouldn’t have to be,” she said. “But I get it. I’m good at it too.” 

[demisexualnathanvuornos]

Lucas Bryant as Matthew in Five More Minutes: Moments Like These (Original air date December 17th, 2022)

[worldsfastestbear]

Do you smell coffee?   Yeah, but let’s wait for Room Service...

[ingrid-marie]

My qualifiers tonight!!!

🇨🇿🇫🇮🇱🇻🇧🇻🇦🇿🇭🇷🇲🇹🇳🇱🇷🇸🇸🇪