#and after calling twice and not getting through because these people apparently do not have regular hours

[haniawritesthings]

ah the irony of it being near impossible to get a hold of the accessibility office

[youcancallmeelle]

Are we on the same side?

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader

Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.

He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.

You may need some clarification on what you are…

AO3

You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages

Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted. 

You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own. 

You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars. 

It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it. 

You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman. 

The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this. 

Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late. 

He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house. 

“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie. 

You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes. 

“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise. 

You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen. 

With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.

“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye. 

Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash. 

“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.  

“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease. 

“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”

“She’s smarter than us.” You say. 

“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation. 

He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose. 

You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of. 

“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath. 

The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in. 

“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious. 

“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone. 

“Who?” He grins back.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.” 

“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you. 

“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement. 

“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes. 

“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you. 

“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed. 

He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra. 

As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move. 

You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track. 

Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin. 

“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside. 

It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them. 

Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back. 

The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive. 

Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture. 

“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some. 

“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?” 

“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves. 

When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches. 

You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice. 

“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you. 

“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong. 

“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.” 

“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls. 

“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.

“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.” 

You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.” 

“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.” 

“No.” 

“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.

“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed. 

You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull. 

In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls. 

“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug. 

“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.

“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?” 

“No.” You hum, shaking your head. 

“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?” 

“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh. 

“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares. 

“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again. 

“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly. 

Silence and then… 

“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability. 

You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle. 

The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back. 

Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees. 

It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you. 

Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you. 

Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five. 

You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see. 

God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible. 

Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side. 

He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level. 

“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence. 

“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror. 

“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.” 

“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant. 

Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him. 

The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot. 

His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen. 

You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh. 

“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips. 

“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands. 

“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. 

His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.

You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits. 

“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.

Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back. 

“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy. 

“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin. 

“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip. 

You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know. 

“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?” 

“Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with. 

“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated. 

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft. 

“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle. 

You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him. 

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure. 

“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress. 

“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes. 

“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.

“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin. 

“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so. 

“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction. 

“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.

You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share. 

This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close. 

His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you. 

You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall. 

It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you. 

“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder. 

He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family. 

It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius. 

You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island. 

You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce. 

The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either. 

It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat. 

“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long. 

“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile  beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!” 

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair. 

“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble. 

“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch. 

“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.” 

“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you. 

“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.” 

“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam. 

Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves. 

You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back. 

You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour. 

He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts. 

“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze. 

The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty. 

He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there. 

You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him. 

“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard. 

Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate. 

“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist. 

“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness. 

He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync. 

“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.

Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix. 

“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting. 

“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.” 

“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.” 

“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought. 

“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery. 

“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts. 

“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire. 

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon. 

The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe. 

You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing. 

“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured. 

“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.” 

He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body. 

You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks. 

Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones. 

“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 

“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?” 

“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer. 

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.” 

“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him. 

“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees. 

“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

“Hmm?” 

“What if we can’t fix this?” 

“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.” 

“I love you.” You murmur. 

“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds. 

“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin. 

He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause. 

The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work. 

“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.” 

“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice. 

“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise. 

“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.” 

“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.” 

“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies. 

“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken. 

“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.” 

“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels. 

“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding. 

“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.” 

There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck. 

You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart. 

He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin. 

“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.

You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length. 

Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze. 

“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed. 

You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back. 

You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.

“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup. 

It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned. 

“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment. 

“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s. 

“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him. 

“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms. 

“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you. 

“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you. 

“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly. 

She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.

“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder. 

“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies. 

“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs. 

“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair. 

“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends. 

You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you. 

“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing. 

“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly. 

“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?” 

“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.

“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs. 

“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start. 

“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone. 

Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.  

“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.” 

“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs. 

“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs. 

“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.

“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back. 

“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath. 

“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs. 

“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely. 

“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”

“Gross!” They both exclaim. 

That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over. 

You’re certain that everything will be okay. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a "Hate Club" for my sister? My sister (13) and I (16) have never been close. She is very loud and energetic whereas I am not. She always has been a bit of a jerk sometimes, but recently she has been unbearable to be around. She has been outright mean to our parents, calling them names, screaming at them, throwing things, and doing so every morning when she gets up for school, and every evening when she has to go to sleep. Because of her "screaming schedule", my already bad sleep schedule has been ruined, and I need multiple naps to make it through my day properly because she wakes us up so early. I talked about this to some of my friends who know her, and we decided to make a group chat called "(Sister's name) Hate Club" where we could vent about how she has affected us personally. Sometimes our vents would devolve into mean comments or theorizing about why she's like this, but we never said any of this to her in person, or to anyone outside of our group of 8. However, one night when my mom (63) and I were coming home from a play we had gone to see, she saw a notification for (Sister's name) Hate Club. I had my phone connected to the car's display to play music, so she saw the notification, clear as day. I lied to her at the time, and told her that it was a group chat for stuff in our scout troop, as I didn't feel like explaining what it was on the way home. I thought that she would be mad at me. After I told her, she didn't talk much for the rest of the night. The next day, she confronted me as I was leaving for a doctor's appointment. She said "I don't know if you can tell, but I'm pretty angry at you right now." When I asked her why, she told me the group chat. She started saying how I was a bully, and how I was acting just like my sister does when she's mad. She wouldn't let me get a word in, so I rolled my eyes and left in the middle of her sentence (which I understand was not a good move, but I was already running late and I was angry now too). When I was done at the doctor's appointment, I decided to text her that it was actually a vent group about my sister to try and explain why the group wasn't actually a hate group. When I got home and into my room, she confronted me and we had a big argument. She kept on saying how I was bullying my sister, and apparently she talked to 2 of my friend's moms, saying "If your child made a hate group about someone, would you be mad?". They both responded with some form of "I'd be livid". One of those people got in trouble with their mom and had to write an apology letter to mine once their mom found out what my mom was talking about. In the argument, I told her that "I need a space to vent" and she said "The venting is not the problem, the name is". When I told her "It's just a joke name, because I obviously don't legitimately hate her", she said I was still bullying her. After that I got very defensive and started swearing (not directly at her, but for word emphasis), and she started saying I was disrespecting her now too. At that point I said I would change the name, because I know she's a hard-head and would rather die than admit that she's wrong in any given situation. I've changed the group chat name twice, and now were acting like nothing ever happened. I've talked to my friends that were in the group, and they've said that I'm NTA, but I'm still not sure if they are right or just biased because I'm their friend and they were hearing everything from my perspective. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[onboardsorasora]

I woke up this morning with a song in my heart and that song was reversed age gap maxiel with a lil scumbag Max in the bridge. I've had an ask in my inbox for months now about reversed aged gap maxiel and I thought this was the same vibe but sadly it isn't. Oh wells, this is what I wrote this morning. thank you @chaosinstigator for being an amazing cheerleader <3

1172 wrds. There is a part 2 apparently lol

Something something four-time world champion Max Verstappen looks across the garage at his new teammate, the 18yr old they dragged up from VCarb to replace Checo. 

Daniel Ricciardo was a fast driver, he'd only spent a fraction of the year in F2 before he was called up. And even though the car wasn't good, he was. Which is what mattered.

Helmut had been puffing chest out in pride ever since Daniel proved him right. 

Now the kid– because that's what he was, a kid– was talking to the old man, nodding periodically while Helmut spoke. Like a good boy.

They'd already met, had time to break the ice as teammates and Max could hardly ignore how his light brown eyes had shone with worship and awe. Or how Daniel’s voice had cracked when he promised to be a good challenge for Max this year. His lips pulled into an almost-but-not-quite-there cocky smirk over the brackets of his braces, and Max idly wondered what other ‘challenges’ Daniel would pose this year.

In the weeks since that, Max couldn’t help but notice Daniel. How could he not? He was cute, in a dorky way. He listened to loud music, loudly. Unlike Checo who kept his tunes to a reasonable volume for someone sharing a wall. Daniel was always giggling and joking around, trying to rile people up to play. 

Max was already riled up in a different way.

What with Daniel’s continued teasing and jokes, walking around in tiny shorts and showing his new thigh tattoo to anyone with eyes. He was flexible too, contorting his scrawny body into yoga poses while they waited for engineering to start, doing handstands in the hallway. He was loud when he got massaged. Max could hear him talking through the thin wall and then his voice would hitch and he would groan when Jon apparently hit a particularly deep knot. It drove Max up the wall.

Max knocked twice before opening the door– his usual standard– then froze in the doorway. Daniel looked at him wide eyed, dressed only in his underwear and clearly about to get dressed in his tight white fireproofs. Max hadn’t ever seen him so underdressed, even with all of the random activities they’d been doing for marketing. He was scrawny yes, but still lithe with corded muscles. Dotted with freckles and sunspots. Max gripped the handle of the door when Daniel’s big eyes lost their surprise and settled into upturned curiosity. His heart shaped lips dropped open a little, enough for Max to see his tongue pressing against his braces. Max wanted to smear his come in the brackets.

“Max?” Daniel’s voice pitched upwards.

Max mentally stepped away from the visuals of him debauching this kid. “Your music.” He got out.

“Oh jeepers, my bad. Sorry!” Daniel rushed to the table to lower the volume on his speakers. Max watched his ass in his tight briefs. How his thighs bunched as he moved, thick with dark wiry hair.

“Lovely, thank you Daniel.” Max smiled and Daniel’s face darkened with a pleased flush and he bit his lip. Max forced himself to close the door and go back to his own room.

— - —

They were changing after a gokart race for marketing, Daniel sat shirtless on the bench. Max looked over to see him already watching him. After spending the last twenty minutes with Daniel practically sat in his lap while Max gripped his tiny waist, Max would appreciate it if he got dressed already.

“I can hear your brain from here.” Max teased and Daniel’s lips pulled into an unconscious smile even as he looked away. 

“Sorry I just– you don’t like me, do you?” Daniel blurted and Max froze.

“What?”

“It’s just– you didn’t–I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have like said that.” Daniel shook his head and stood. Max watched him tuck his long sweaty curls behind his ear. 

“Why would you think that?” Max was confused as to why Daniel would assume that he hated him, and wondered what made him think that way. As far as Max was concerned, he hadn’t treated him any differently than anyone else. Unless Daniel was expecting special treatment? If anything, Daniel was getting special treatment. Max wasn’t going out of his way to be a dick to him, he wouldn’t do that to his young teammate.

“Uhm, I– everyone says you were nicer to Checo, warmer. I-I don’t think you’ve been bad– you’ve been great. But I’m not Checo and I dunno if you like resent me for replacing him.”

“Checo was my teammate for five years, I am not going to, of course, automatically treat you like him.” Max pointed out, “and you shouldn’t listen to the media, they are talking out of their asses most of the time.”

Daniel blushed and ducked his head, chastised. 

“Was that it?” Max asked kindly. He would rather get this all out in the open now.

“I'm sorry.” Daniel apologized, his upturned eyes looked glassy as if he was holding back tears. “I just want us to be friends I guess.” He shrugged.

“You don’t have to be friends with your teammate.”

“I know but.. You were friends with all of yours. Like Carlos.”

Max scoffed, he hadn’t been friends with Carlos when they were teammates– they fucked out their frustrations.

Daniel’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a small o. Max shrugged and tugged his shirt over his head. He repacked his bag and tugged on a cap, turning to see Daniel squirming where he stood, a deep blush on his cheeks. And oh. Well this was interesting. 

Max crossed the room and stood over him, using the few centimeters he had on Daniel to his advantage. Daniel’s head tipped up trustingly and Max cupped his smooth chin in his big hand. Daniel let out a breathy exhale that had Max’s blood surging. 

Max leaned in closely, so close their noses touched. Daniel’s breath hitched. It would be so easy to take. To give in and do what he wanted to Daniel, clearly what Daniel wanted him to do to him. It would be so easy to ruin him entirely. Too easy. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking.” Max whispered against pink lips. Daniel whined in response.

“I– please. I can take it”

“Have you ever?” Max wanted to know, needed to know just how corrupt his little jailbait was. Daniel’s eyes widened and Max bit back his groan. Fuck.

“W-with girls.” Daniel admitted in a whisper, he grabbed at Max’s arm as if he were afraid that his admission would make him less desirable. As if Max hadn’t already been fantasising about fucking him seven ways to Sunday every fucking weekend. His cock stirred at the thought of being the first in the undoubtable tight clench of Daniel’s untried hole. Of being the first to have him writhing and screaming at the discovery of his prostate. 

Would he beg? Max quirked a smirk at the thought, Daniel was already begging right now. 

[mangyraccooon]

Thoughts about Modern day Dragon him being a late diagnosed autistic

Dragon would be one of those people who knew they were different from a young age but never could figure it out because either parents (who didn’t want a ‘different’ child) or becoming so high masking that it was very difficult to tell. (Probably a mix of both)

When Dragon is 40ish he takes luffy to the doctor for a routine checkup.

The doctor tells him his son is most likely autistic.

She also tells him it’s an inherited trait

Dragons reaction is “ah.”

He never thought luffy was different. That wasn’t true he understood luffy was different but it wasn’t a bad thing in his eyes.

Unknowingly at 7 years old dragon put on a mask. It starts to crack 33 years later in a doctor’s office.

The doctor gives him some pamphlets and online resources to go through. He spends the next 24 hours going through it all + several online quizzes.

Only the next morning when he opens his closet fully prepared to go into work: when he sees all his shirts and suit jackets. That he realizes he has no idea who the fuck he is as a person.

Luffy finds him crying in a mess of ripped silks and cotton.

Luffy crawls into his lap and starts telling him about a new beetle species found in South America.

Dragon calls them both in sick and lets his son decide the schedule for the day.

Later that night he goes through old boxes in the attic. Trying to find who the fuck he is- was- could’ve been.

He finds a couple old albums, his guitar, luffys baby blanket and…

Crying is natural and normal, he has to tell himself. You are not weak for crying twice in one day.

The ring is old, it was his mother’s. It had been left with his secretary along with luffy asleep in his bassinet.

“Sometimes I feel like you just put on this face and I don’t even know which one is the real you; or if there is a real you”

He would never know how right he had been.

Dragon quits his job; he can’t stand it anymore. The partners beg him to stay, he’s the best lawyer they have. But the feeling of a suit collar now feels like a noose.

Borsalino is the only one who still contacts him after.

Dragon has money; so much money. Other than luffy and silk shirts that didn’t scrape his skin there was very little dragon spent money on.

So he glides, spends more time with luffy. Falls into a depressive episode so bad he has to stay with his mother. Tsuru purses her lips when he tells her and dragon can’t help but feel a little angry.

“You knew.”

“I suspected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed to be fine.”

But dragon hadn’t been fine, he had been miserable. It was only now he could see how miserable he had been.

He cooks with his step mother who teaches him how to make a puff pastry. Luffy meets a boy down the street who also loves bugs. Life goes on.

Luffy gets a assessment and official diagnosis

The adhd part wasn’t that surprising to Dragon or anyone within 5 seconds of meeting luffy. his son is (affectionately) a human bounce ball.

Dragon gets an official diagnosis and sends a photo of him posing with it to borsalino. Borsalino sends a photo of himself and an online quiz. And dragon understands not everyone needs the word of a doctor to know who they are.

Garp barges into his life and demands he “stop being a freeloader and get a job.” Before flopping on the couch and doing just that.

Dragon gets the drag bar gig out of spite. Iva is the best worst thing that has ever happened to him. After finding out he knew guitar the queen needled him until he started practicing again out of spite (once again he had to stop using that as motivation)

The guitar strings cut at his fingertips.

Garp sets him up on a blind date, which ends with both him and rouge laughing themselves silly. Apparently garp had taken dragons “I like dick” comment to mean anyone who was in possession of a penis (even if it was silicone.)

He turns 42 and has to valiantly fend off Luffy, Ace and Rouge from eating his rack of ribs.

Iva gets him up on stage eventually (he was fine behind the bar)

He did like the eyeliner though and how his shoulders looked in the dress (but that was a thought for another day)

The band thing was a joke (or started as one) rouge sang, dragon played bass, iva played electric and kuma drummed his heart out.

Then it became less of a joke.

It was late, the porch was empty and the moon twinkled. Dragon cradled the phone in his hands. They had gotten a record deal.

He punched in the number slowly.

He was 45 now, he could do this.

The phone rang as he held it up to his ear.

His palms were sweaty.

Voicemail

“I uh-“ what was he supposed to say? “Hi, it’s been awhile. A long time actually- fuck I think I could tell you the exact date if I wasn’t drunk. But- you probably dont want to hear that huh?” He laughed, his breath coming out in a small cloud in the autumn air.

“So a lot happened, since you left. And I don’t blame you for leaving- just so we are clear. Yeah uhmm. So the band. I’m part of a band now surprise! We got a record deal and it made me realize I still- well that is, when I was told. I realized, your the only one I wanted to tell”

“And not in a bragging way!” He added hastily

A beeping noise, indicating the end of the message

“Wani I-“

But the message ended

-should I make this into an actual thing? Lemme know

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Drabble]

He's technically well enough to live on his own and, most of all, live his own life. But he's chosen you as his home- and that means he has to learn more about you.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, mentions of eating raw meat, suggestive, Jungkook's.. interesting way of flirting, mentions of period, small moment of insecurity, fluff

Length: Short

A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISN'T. DO NOT ASK.

-> Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

Jungkook has recovered completely at this point.

He's technically allowed to roam free and go live his life again- alone, that is- but he refuses. He's taken on a job at a local supermarket, helping in the warehouses with the heavy goods, and he tells you that it's actually quite fun to him to help the people around him.

He's also still living with you permanently until it's clear whether or not he's gonna stay on earth or go back to his home planet- because It's not all too clear yet, though you're not too worried about the future. If he wants to leave you behind, it'll be sad, sure-

but it's his decision. You've got no right to tie him to your side.

So for now, you'll just enjoy the time you're able to spend with him- from lazy mornings to the routine cuddling session he practically demands every night before bed, like a ritual he has to go through or he just won't sleep at all.

And an odd sight to you is, that you're still catching Jungkook snacking on very much raw meat at your fridge occasionally, just like right now- his sheepishly large eyes all round and caught off guard as he looks from side to side, before he looks at the small cut of red meat in his hand.

He wants to ask you if you'd like to share, but he's learned that humans actually don't eat raw meat at all. It can even make them sick- something that made him worry, so he's since started to look up tutorials on how to properly prepare it so it becomes safe for consumption for humans.

He wants to take care of you properly after all.

So he started learning how to cook proper human meals that have good nutritional value for their bodies. He also began researching how to help you through your monthly cycle, and how to otherwise court you.

Humans apparently really don't court each other- they kind of just send each other messages on their phones, and then they meet up for food or alcohol. They do that once or twice to see if they like each other, and then they start 'going out'- which funnily for some doesn't involve walking anywhere at all.

Where's the proving one's value? He's got to show you how capable he is in providing; whether it be comfort, safety or even physical valuables such as food. How would you know whether or not he'd be a good time investment? It's no wonder so many humans whine and complain about 'wasting time' on the wrong partners when they just choose them on nothing but a 'feel of the moment'.

Humans are truly weird.

Then again, humans are also very emotional beings. They choose a lot of things based on their feelings alone, and they cherish opinions and other people's emotions a lot, even if they don't know each other. They make many friendships quickly, form huge social circles, and some of them even have relationships with multiple partners. Everything a human does is connected to feelings, it seems like. Apparently, they need to check if they're emotionally compatible first before they even think about mating.

Oh god, mating.

Humans are horribly complicated he's come to learn- it takes some of them months and even years of emotionally connecting before they get together for the first time. And when they do, it's sounds so complicated.

Some like certain positions, others have so-called 'kinks', and then some have a favoritism for certain acts that actually have nothing to do with reproduction. Jungkook had been horrified when he read something about 'eating someone out'- until he learned that it had nothing to do with actual cannibalism.

Human beings love pleasure. For Jungkook, that had always been somewhat of a luxury- but here on earth, humans see it as a necessity even. It makes him eager to prove himself as a lover who can match the capabilities of a human one- maybe even exceed them.

"Would you consider me someone you'd mate with?" Jungkook asks as he watches you pout hot water into a cup filled with a little bag. Tea is what you're making.

He doesn't like it- he burned his tongue on it a few days back. Why would you drink something that hurts?

"I- uh, what?" You stammer, having to put the kettle down as you're clearly caught off guard.

"Mating. Sex, is what you call it here right?" Jungkook hums, leaning on the kitchen counter almost innocently. How can he look at you with his stupid round boba-ball eyes while asking you if you'd like to fuck him?!

"I uh- I mean, you're.. really attractive, and I guess we're a couple?" You stammer, a bit caught off guard, and he nods.

"I believe that we are in a partnership at the moment." He agrees, putting the meat away into the fridge, before he washes his hands and dries them off. "And humans regularly participate in intercourse in most partnerships, right?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you nod.

"I mean.. most of the time, yeah." You agree.

"See?" He smiles, looking at you. "We should as well. I heard from a friend that it can strengthen the bond of a relationship significantly." He tells you, and you're caught off guard, as you can't help but stare at his bare arms for a moment, dirty thoughts invading your head as you look at the way his hands move to rest on the kitchen counter behind him.

Great. You're really happy he's making friends, sure- but do his friends have to tell him that he needs to have sex with you to make you like him more?

"Do you not want that with me?" He wonders. "That's fine too. Some only enjoy doing that by themselves.." He shrugs, and you freeze.

"What-" You start, terrified of the truth. "What do you.. mean?" You ask.

"I know you're pleasuring yourself sometimes, mostly at night before you shower. It's hard not to notice it, really- your scent is all over the place." He laughs easily, as if he's just talking about the weather. "I wanted to ask you if you wanted my help sometimes. You seem a little frustrated on occasion." He offers.

So he noticed that. Awesome.

"Yeah I just-.." you cringe at yourself, before you just shut your mouth.

"If you're worried about me not being able to pleasure a human woman, I can assure you- I'm pretty knowledgeable." He prides himself up. "I've only ever received compliments."

"You've had sex with humans before?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yes. Multiple, actually- so I have good experience." He agrees, and now, you feel a bit intimidated. If he has this much experience, what if you bore him? What if you can't provide what he wants? And he clearly seems to sense your distress growing, because he immediately tries to backpaddle his statement. "Though none of those experience involved any actual emotional connection!" He tells you, trying to reassure you that he doesn't want to come off as if sex with you wouldn't be something special to him. "You could almost say that it was practice-" He attempts, but you just sigh, shaking your head.

"You don't have to justify yourself, Jungkook." You say, and he visibly deflates at the fact that you don't use his nickname in your sentence.

"Do my past actions make me undesirable to you now?" He asks a bit softer, and you groan in agony to yourself, shaking your head as you sit down at the small kitchen table.

"No- no that's not it, it's me that's the issue." You huff, laying your head sideways on the cool surface of the plastic tabletop. "I'm just not.. as experienced as you." You shrug, not moving as he sits down across from you. "I'll probably be super lame and disappointing." You mumble.

You can feel his hand reaching out to pet your head, fingers running over your head in a similar way that you tend to do to him. He's probably trying to comfort you, and in a way, it makes you upset at yourself for being upset at him. He did nothing wrong. Why are you being such a bitch?

"You know.." He chuckles softly, and you move your head a little to look at him. "..my friend said that humans can be really confusing and emotional when they're ovulating." He offers, and your eyes widen as your head snaps up. "He was right." He laughs at your shocked expression.

"But I'm not-" You start, because technically, you really aren't. Are you?

"It's really faint but pretty noticeable." He chuckles, and you just sigh, accepting things for now. At the very least, the awkwardness has left for once, so that's a good thing down the line. "Oh!" He suddenly perks up, looking at with excitement.

"I heard that sex helps with cramping though!"

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

[lixie-phoria]

ੈ✩‧ ➛ best friend!hyunjin gets jealous of this new boy you've been talking a little too much about

pairing : best friend!hyunjin x gn reader

prompt : hyunjin can't help but get jealous of the new boy you seem to be infatuated with lately, hating the ugly feeling that burned through his chest everytime you said his name. he wishes he had realized sooner that he had absolutely nothing to worry about, because this new boy was, in fact, only fictional.

genre : fluff, little bit of angst bc hyunjin is jealous :(

word count : 707 words

an : extremely self indulgent haha

hyunjin was in love with you. everybody knew it; his friends knew, your friends knew, even the people in your university that he had never spoken to before knew about it. everyone seemed to know except for you.

but the boy could never confess. everytime he came close to, something always seemed to come in the way. this time it was another boy.

he first heard the name rindou when the two of you were out with a group of friends. he noticed how your phone's screen lit up and the girl sitting right beside you burst into a fit of giggles when she noticed your lockscreen. you switched off your phone before he could catch a glimpse of it himself, but he did hear the faint teasing of your friend. "i know you like rindou, but so much that he's already your lockscreen?"

hyunjin's heart dropped when he noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you told her to shut up.

he was heartbroken. partly because you were best friends and you apparently didn't feel comfortable enough sharing about this new boy with him, and partly because here he had been pining over you for years and now you were suddenly interested in someone else?

hyunjin wanted to cry. what did rindou have that he did not? heck, he didn't even know who this boy was. he'd asked everyone around campus and there was no rindou who studied there. was it someone you met online? maybe on a dating app?

hyunjin's first impulse was to distance himself from you. it drove him mad, not seeing you for days and hearing the disappointment in your voice everytime he called off a plan.

but it was for the best, right? wrong. he couldn't have been more wrong.

the first time he saw you after an entire week was at a party, and his heart hurt when he saw the smile he loved so much take over your face when you saw him.

you rushed forward, throwing yourself in his arms. hyunjin wanted to wrap his own arms around you and breathe in your scent that he had missed so much and just never let you go. but he pulled away anyways, ignoring the hurt that flashed across your face.

"don't get too close. we don't want your boyfriend getting jealous, do we?"

he didn't meant to sound so crass, but it slipped out and there was nothing he could do about it as you blinked at him blankly. once. then twice.

"what?"

he scoffed. so first you kept rindou a secret from him and then you were going to play dumb? did you think hyunjin was that stupid?

"rindou. the guy who's your new lockscreen. aren't you with him?"

hyunjin was confused as your expression slowly morphed into a horror struck one.

"is that what you're salty about?" you asked incredulously.

"well, of course i'm a bit hurt you didn't tell me about him. i would be happy for you, you know, if you really liked him."

the poor boy was so confused when you burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at his arm for support.

"you mean that rindou?" was all you could manage between gasps as he stared at you with increasing confusion.

what was so funny?

"jinnie, no," you said, shaking your head. "rindou is a fictional character. he doesn't exist. he's from a manga i'm reading"

oh.

hyunjin felt heat rise up his face as he hastily freed his arm from your grasp, turning away from you so you wouldn't notice his increasingly embarrassed expression. rindou was fictional?

gods, hyunjin felt so stupid. all this for a boy who doesn't even exist?

"hyunjin, look at me."

he ignored you, letting out a huff as you tried to control the laughter that threatened to bubble out again.

"jinnie, please?"

"stop calling me that."

"but that's the only way you'll listen to me."

the two of you seemed to have forgotten the party raging around you.

"this is so embarrassing. please leave me alone."

"were you jealous?"

his silence spoke volumes and he heard you huff softly.

"jinnie, turn around, please?"

"so you can laugh at me more?"

"no, you dumbass, so i can kiss some sense into you."

©lixie-phoria, 2023

🏷️ @foxinnie8 , @hamburgers101 , @starlostlaiba (send an ask to be added/removed from the taglist :))

[maleyanderecafe]

Kaede, the yandere boyfriend (Oneshot)

Created by: Murasaki yukari/Isako

Genre: Smut

It's been a while since I've done a yandere smut translation, but here we are. This one is actually surprisingly pretty sweet considering that Saya does accept Kaede at the end. Very cute. Originally this was going to be something that was translated with the translation group I'm in, but unfortunately I'm really impatient. As always if you like my work you can always donate to me at kofi.com/lunaslurp.

The story starts out with Saya recalling Kaede's confession to her in university. While she is happy about the confession, she also feels really inadequate next to him, wondering why he confessed to her all this time. During their date, Kaede gives Saya a smartwatch, something she initially refuses due to the fact that she had already gotten another gift from Kaede earlier, a necklace. She eventually agrees to keep it, though she does feel bad about it. At her job, she gets invited by a coworker to go out and eat with the other coworkers. She asks Kaede and after a brief questioning of if there will be any guys, she eventually decides to go. During the hangout, a bunch of guys come in and crash the party, with Saya being too awkward to try to leave. One of the guys starts to talk to her and compliment her, making good conversation about a comedy show they both like. At this point, Kaede starts to call her like crazy, with her watch and necklace buzzing as well. Eventually, Kaede comes in person to drag Saya away from the other people, basically getting jealous and having sex with her. During the sex, Saya asks if Kaede does love her, which he does respond with a happy yes. He also reveals that Saya is actually quite popular with people and that because of this he had to isolate her by getting rid of the other guys. He also mentions that her phone, necklace and watch are bugged with a gps tracking device. While he talks about this, he does seem to feel that Saya is unlucky to be with him, but Saya accepts all of him regardless, happy that he has confessed to her in this way. After some more sex, we get a flashback to when Kaede fell in love with Saya in the first place. Kaede had apparently been involved between some sort of fight between the girls, and was talking to Saya about it. Saya states that he should treat himself with kindness as well just as he treats the girls with kindness and falls for her in that regard. The next day, Saya apologizes to her coworkers for suddenly bailing, giving them the money. Her coworkers ask if that man was her boyfriend, to which she responds happily, even complimenting him ina a lovey dovey way. Upon leaving, Saya finds Kaede evesdropping on the conversation with the earbuds he has on, embarrassed that Saya said such things, presumably for her to hear. The coworkers talk about how Kaede is kind of scary, but if that the two of them are happy, then it's okay.

This story kind of reminds me of Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, “I love you too,” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~, which is the other smut I translated, since they both accept the yandere during sex. Of course, Yandere Killing!! is much more comedic in nature while this one is more sweet, but it is weird that it happened twice. I honestly did think initially that Saya's feelings of inadequacy were actually caused by Kaede, but it actually turns out they both felt they weren't good enough for each other, which kind of adds to that sort of sweet factor when they do end up confessing to each other. Kaede has the general factor of stalking Saya through tracking devices, namely on her various gifts that she was given, so it was cute that in the end Saya basically talked about how much she loved Kaede presumably so that he would hear it as well through the devices. Though as a smut, other than the cuteness factor (both in the story and between the people who made it), I don't really have too much to say. It's cute, the artwork is rather nice and it has some yandere things in it.

Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy this translation. I don't really have much to say about it, but I hope you do read it because I did take the time to translate it. If you have suggests for what yandere manga to translate from Chinese to English let me know.

[arcadianambivalence]

IWTV S2E2 and History

One thing I really appreciate about this show is how it interacts with its historical setting. I worried that when Louis and Claudia left New Orleans last season, the show would start to shirk the historical details, but the latest episode has given me enough historical tidbits to chew on (pun intended).

Hidden behind the humor of lines like "Paris is shit" and the thrill of meeting other vampires, there's a sense of foreboding lingering beside the recent traumas.

As with the first episode of season 2, Louis and Claudia are surrounded by reminders of war, even if they do not have the context (or empathy) for the survivors they encounter. Claudia complains that she has to pick twice as many pockets to get by, but the two are still able to afford an apartment. Meanwhile, food staples and clothing are still rationed, but people and pigeons are easy to come by.

"Paris was Nazi scar tissue at the time..."

Louis explains, but the scars historically ran deeper than a tourist (and Louis is The stereotypical tourist in this episode) could understand. Blackouts, food shortages, rations, soldiers, and refugees linger at the corners of the episode.

Even Madeline is introduced to us by a man warning Claudia that she was a collaborator or Nazi sympathizer (he does a subtle salute and points to the shop window), which will certainly influence how the next episodes take her through her narrative beats.

The plays performed by the Théâtre des Vampires cross 1920s to 1940s expressionism with absurdity and horror. Even after all this time, Louis is unenthused about the theatrical performances.

"The plays were weird. They always ended in death or some kind of cruel, barely motivated violence."

Armand's reply is dulled by the onstage spectacle:

"Life is cruel. Life is violent. [...] It was all a seduction to lure the cattle into a willing belief of disbelief."

It's a line that is all the more concerning if you know where the story is going...

Annika, the doomed woman onstage, is from Belgium, yet another country recovering from occupation and war. When she desperately tries to convince the audience to flee (not just for them to help her, but to save themselves), she speaks Dutch, so neither the French nor English-speaking audience members understand her.

Still in character, Santiago pretends to offer her a choice. She could live if she gives up someone to die in her place, if she, as the phrase goes, "turns someone in." First, he offers to take her husband, and she refuses. Then he offers to take her son, and again she refuses. Finally, he points to a man in the audience. She nods vigorously, but it's a cruel joke.

Santiago has already made up his mind about her. He addresses the man, warning him against trusting his neighbors:

"They'll give you up in a wink."

As if someone who spent the last five years in occupied France would need reminding.

The warning is for us, the viewers.

Later, the troupe takes Louis and Claudia to a mansion, ostensibly to eat people who, apparently, hoarded resources from the black market. Another show for Claudia and Louis, tourists who still think of themselves as the "good" vampires. Because why would a troupe of vampires concern themselves with that? They don't need anything from the black market. They don't eat anything from the black market. Where was this sense of justice in recent years?

As with Annika, it's yet another excuse to enact cruel and public violence against people they consider less than them.

So when Santiago's introductory prologue includes lines like:

"Being vampires, and by nature superior to you mortals, we can [...] disrupt your tiny ship called human decency."

"Our jobs, which is at the heart of it, to laugh alongside your misery while you cry and scream for more."

"Everything you're about to see is real. Remember that when you leave here tonight. You are all complicit [...] I love you for it."

You know things are not going to get better for Louis and Claudia.

[darklinaforever]

I need to get this out of my system. What are these fans of Rhaenyra, Daemon, Daemyra, or even the three, who hate the Velaryon boys ?

Already, from 1, Rhaenyra will hate you for hating her precious children.

Second, no one on Team Blacks cared that Jace was a bastard. Nobody had a problem with that. So why did you, a fan of this so-called team and these characters, have one ?

Then... where does this idea come from that Daemon didn't like boys, and would have harmed them if the war hadn't broken out because he wanted his sons to inherit the throne in their place ?

Literally, it's based on nothing. Well, in fact yes. Rumors that Daemon was obsessed with the throne. You know, literally the information from the maesters who hated him. Because in fact, in the story itself, Daemon did nothing active to really have the throne, unlike the Greens or Corlys.

But beyond that, Daemon's blood would have ended up on the throne anyway, because Baela was Jace's fiancé.

However, I see people saying that Daemon didn't care about his daughters in general and were too sexist / misogynistic to accept that his blood to the throne would run through one of his daughters, rather than one of his sons.

Are we talking about the same Daemon who first extended the hand of reconciliation to Viserys so that his daughters were properly introduced into the world after their birth ? The same Daemon who fully accepted that his daughter Baela was a tomboy and let her do whatever she wanted ? (Also, in the books, there is no evidence of any discord whatsoever with Rhaena, so that argument is bullshit too) The same Daemon who accepted Rhaenyra as queen and defended it until the dead his position ?! Ok... I don't know why, but I have the impression that your Daemon is not the same as mine.

Then, from what I remember from the book, Daemon avenged Lucerys' death. Twice. Not one. Twice. The first time in "Eye for an Eye, a son for a son, Lucerys will be avenged" mode by killing a child of the Greens, and the second time by planting Dark Sister in Aemond's eye... Literally a tribute to the old gesture by Lucerys. And as for Jace, I remember that Daemon seemed to fully get along with him on a military level.

But apparently all that meant nothing !

Revenge for Lucerys is apparently for these people just an excuse for Daemon to satisfy his violent impulses and attack the Greens... (Whereas if that were the case, he would simply have to send assassins for each Greens ? What he didn't do ?) Also, if it's just a matter of satisfying an impulse, why kill Aemond the way he did ? Apart from a direct homage to Lucerys, what does that bring to Daemon in a selfish personal way ? Why not just kill Aemond by stabbing his sword somewhere else in his body ? The result would have been the same. After all, Lucerys had already been avenged. Also, the agreement with Jace was just a mask to better fool him and try to get rid of him later.

In fact, all this opinions have no support with Daemon's canonical actions. And I don't understand them. They are based solely on negative rumors against him by maesters for the throne, that sought to tarnish his image.

It's still crazy that people read Fire and Blood, especially the part about revenge for Luke and the way Daemon killed Aemond, and come to say that : Yes. Daemon would have totally sought to kill Lucerys himself if there hadn't been a war. He probably hated him for being a bastard and being a threat to his blood sons !

Basically you're accusing Daemon of being a misogynist and a blood purist... Basically what the Greens are.

You know... the ones who usurped the female heir that was Rhaenyra, refusing to accept a woman in power, and actively trying to harm her children for years without hiding the contempt they had for them ?

No, really, I find it ironic that members of Team Blacks, fans of Daemon, Rhaenyra and Daemyra are basically saying that Daemon is like the Greens.

The same guy who never actively tried to have the throne (And if anyone tries to tell me that Daemon's marriage to Rhaenyra was to try to gain power as her husband... Why was it never in fact against of Rhaenyra once she crowns Queen ? Seriously, be consistent), accepted Rhaenyra, a woman, as Queen, who let one of his daughters be a total tomboy and do what she wanted, help to educate the Velaryon boys over 10 years, having twice avenged the death of Lucerys and described as having gotten along well with Jace.

No really, I find it crazy that some people are convinced that Daemon despised his boys and planned to harm them one day.

Especially since such an argument quickly collapses when we realize that he spent 10 years with them before the war without any problems being recorded ? Seriously, if Daemon was planning to kill the Velaryon boys... why wait so long ?

Seriously, people who think that are just idiots in my eyes.

Even maesters who actively hated Daemon didn't have the guts to insinuate such a thing !

Nothing in the text indicates that Daemon hated the Velaryon boys, planning in any way to harm them. We have to stop talking stupid things now.

Even the series, which didn't understand much about the real Daemon Targaryen, doesn't suggest that Daemon has a problem with these boys !

[whousestypewriters]

i don't even know your name - jameson hawthorne x reader

pairing: jameson hawthorne x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, kissing + like running away from the police

a/n: hehe my first tig fic! and my first on this account. i had this little idea at exactly 12:26am in the middle of revamping this blog and wanted to write it i shouldve gone to bed, so sorry if this is crap - sleep deprivation is reallll. its also unedited-

part two: you again??

ok so technically you did steal a car.

but come on, the seven police cars driving after you is just a little bit excessive. especially since its not even a decent car... from a junkyard - which to be honest you're still surprised it even started. no even cares about the damn thing except for you and the junkyard owner who apparently has a vendetta against you.

you've met the guy twice, he's a stinky old man who spends most of his days wasted and drunk. and he's never once paid attention to you sneaking in and out basically living in the car you've just stolen. sorry, borrowed.

the red and blue flashing lights bring you back to your current situation and you wince when you shift gears and swing almost violently around the corner into oncoming traffic. swerving around the honking cars and bright lights you manage to merge back into the right lanes and push forward trying to put distance between you and the cops.

you slip through the cars not even caring about the other people at this point. you just need this car. getting a job these days is harder then it seems and you'd just been offered a job with really good pay and the only requirement was you needed your own car to get to and from work.

so seeing as you're an eighteen year old homeless girl with little to no money, temporarily borrowing this car seemed like a really good idea - until it wasn't of course.

pulling over on the side of the road you decide to abandon the car and try to get away on foot - you can always catch the bus right? following the flow of the crowd you swirl your way through checking over your shoulder every few seconds, not even noticing the fact that you've gone up steps and entered a large line until the security guard calls out to you.

"hey kid! ticket?" swinging around you look up to the stern guard.

"pardon?"

"where's your ticket?"

"oh..." you trail off and the guard steps forward.

"miss, do you have a ticket?"

"....no?"

stepping forward the guard starts to reach for his gun. "miss i'm going to need to ask you to leave."

looking behind you, you try and work out your best escape route from the now approaching police men and the menacing guard at your back.

"uh yeah i'm leaving now," you say swinging around and slipping under the guard and bolting through the doors.

you enter probably the grandest entry room ever. its like straight out of a movie with the grand staircases and people in elegant clothing, unfortunately you don't get much time to admire everything with security and police on your ass.

pushing past the shrieking guests aside you run through the crowd to the next room, straight into the middle of... a dinner party.

great.

this is just great.

"GET HER!" the one of the policemen yells from behind you. you take off again rushing past women in fancy dresses and men in tuxes trying your very best not to step on any of their outfits - because hey, you may be homeless dressed like a middle aged man, but damnit you can appreciate a good outfit.

running into a hallway you panic slightly, choosing a random door and slamming it shut. trying to get ahold of your breath you close your eyes and rest your head against the door, taking deep breaths.

a throat clears from behind you and you practically jump out of your skin.

"hello."

"holy shit! doesn't anybody knock these days??" you shriek.

you look around the office trying to find the owner of the voice but to no avail. the office seemed plain enough a large plush chair behind a mahogany desk with sofas and book shelves adorning the sides of the wall.

"hello?" you look around the office again, bending down to check under the desk.

"look up," the voice comes again.

looking up you see the shadow of a boy sitting on the overhanging ledge of the bookshelf.

"who are you?" you ask eyeing the door and wondering if you still have enough time to get away before the police arrive.

"i think we should really be focusing more on you." the boy's voice vibrates through the room. he leans forward to the point of almost falling off the edge but somehow still staying on.

"i'm not important," you say, then motion up to him. "you'll fall."

"i can assure you i won't." for a moment the boy just lingers there before launching himself off the bookshelf and landing on the floor in front of you. "and besides you've piqued my interest." he strolls over to the desk and casually leans against it as if he wasn't a freaking godlike person.

seriously that bookshelf had to be at least three and a half meters tall!

the boy - now that you can see him better - is also godlike in his looks. its devastating how handsome he is. he's around your age with soft brown hair that seemed to be styled when the night began and had fallen across his forehead and his eyes. his eyes were like emeralds sparkling in the moonlight. suddenly you're favourite colour is green.

"now tell me again, who are you?" he grins - its an awful grin, the type that makes you want to die because its so beautiful.

swallowing the lump that formed in your throat you push the words out. "as i said, that's not important. what is important is that you forget you ever saw me."

the boy raises an eyebrow flashing another grin. "i'm afraid i can't do that."

"why?"

"because you are quiet unforgettable."

you freeze for a moment, then roll your eyes. "is that what you tell every girl who barges into a room to hide?"

"ahh so you're hiding?"

clenching your jaw at that slight bit of information you let slip, you nod.

"from?"

"who do you think jackass? i'm dressed like a 1950's street urchin and just crashed probably the most fancy dinner party i'll ever see, so really, who do you think i'm hiding from? fucking peppa pig?"

a loud bang comes from down the hall and you swing around wishing you had ran instead of talking to the mystery boy.

"come here." his voice snaps you out of your panic.

"what?"

"come here, you don't want to be caught? get over here."

narrowing your eyes at him you move closer to him. "what are you gonna do?"

he stares at you for a moment. "can i touch you?"

"WHAT?"

"not like that, god. that's where your mind went? no. i was just being respectful before i kissed you."

that you pause at. "you're going to kiss me?"

"well, with your permission of course."

"you don't have it."

the boy pouts playfully. "why not?"

"because believe it or not, crashing dinner parties and kissing random strangers who's names i don't know isn't something i do on a regular basis."

"well if you don't want to get caught...." he trails off.

"ew so what if i kiss you, you won't give me up? you think you're that good do you?"

"sweetheart, i am that good."

"not helping your case."

"if i kiss you it hides your face, none of them would ever try and cross me," the boy offers grinning again - does he ever stop smiling? seriously its harmful to look at someone this good looking for this amount of time.

"cause you're just that good right?"

"you're a quick learner."

the commotion from outside comes closer and you tense up weighing your options. goddamnit you're gonna have to kiss him.

"fine you have my permission," you huff. "just don't rat me out."

"i would never."

the police must have reached your door because they knock twice asking if someone is inside that they come out now.

"fucking hell," you mutter. "i cannot believe i'm doing this. i don't even know your name."

"don't worry you're in good hands," the boy says his voice low. he wraps his arms around your waist looking at you to make sure its okay.

"if you don't come out now we're coming in!" the voice from outside yells banging against the door twice more.

"by the way, the names jameson," the boy says before he seals his lips to yours and the door is ripped open with men pouring in.

but you hardly notice it. the boy's - jameson as he called himself - lips are warm as the press into yours. its soft but searing sending tingles through your brain. every thought or protest you had fell out of your head and your hands shoot up into his hair as he tightens is own arms around you.

you're so lost in the kiss you don't even hear the men behind you clearing their throats awkwardly.

pulling away jameson looks at you for a moment seemingly just as stunned as you are before he pulls your head to his chest and rests a hand on the back of your hair keeping your face hidden.

"yes?"

"have you seen a girl; brunette, around your age, wearing a black cocktail dress run through here or past here?" one of the officers asks avoiding eye contact.

"what did you say she was wearing again?" jameson asks.

"a black cocktail dress." these are like the worst policemen ever.

"well... yes-" you tense, this is it. this is where he rats you out, motherfuc-"but she went down the hall and through to the ballroom probably hiding in the crowd."

nodding each of the policemen leave the room and storm their way down the hallway. "uh sorry about interrupting you two as well," the last one says on his way out.

when its safe you pull back from jameson and thank him.

"its not over yet," he grins - seriously who decided he should be this handsome? and takes your hand leading you out the room and down the hallway. "follow me."

you slip out through the now empty entryway and run down the stairs together. this feels suspiciously like a romance novel. when you reach the steps you pull jameson to a stop. "wait don't you have to go to this dinner thing?"

"if it means not spending time with you, i'm okay with missing it," he winks.

"nope, you're not trying to flirt your way into being an outlaw with me," you tease.

"it was worth a shot."

smiling up at the boy who let you go free tonight you reach up on your tip toes and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "i'll be seeing ya jameson."

you slip out into the night leaving jameson on the steps. leaving behind the dangerous feeling that you could lose your heart to that boy.

at least you won't see him again.

[taglist] @nqds, @nuncscioquidsitamor-14, @lxvebelle [if you wanted to be added or removed lemme know!]

a/n pt2: i hope you liked it!!

[thefirst3chapters]

Overanalyzing the Danes family again and thinking about how they react to change:

Liz appears to have an affinity for material objects. When Luke goes to Liz and TJ's place in S7, they have lots of Renaissance faire decor, supplies for making jewelry, quite a few other decorative items, and what appears to be a sizable Beanie Babies collection. That could just be their style, but it's interesting that Luke mentions in S4 that Liz has ended up in situations where a guy leaves with her belongings and clears out her bank account. Perhaps having a lot of physical things around her that aren't very expensive and probably aren't family heirlooms makes her feel safe and gives her a sense of control when everything else changes. Those things might not be as likely to be stolen, and if they go missing she can acquire more.

In S6, Liz tells Luke after a successful run selling jewelry that she doesn't know what to do with all the money, and Luke's suggestion of putting it in a bank hadn't occurred to her. Maybe when Liz came across some money she liked going to thrift stores and getting as much as she could afford. I'm picturing her finding yet another lava lamp or doll and saying, "I feel a connection with this one, don't you think it belongs with us?" while four-year-old Jess, who has been dragging around Curious George Learns the Alphabet for months, stares at her blankly.

Most of the things Jess seems to value are sources of ideas (books and music) or have a clear practical purpose (his clothes, watch, and car). One notable exception is the bracelets he has in addition to the one he temporarily keeps from Rory, and there's that ring he has in AYITL. Maybe there's a story there, and it's possibly an interesting connection to Liz's interest in jewelry (cue the everlasting Gilmore Girls theme of being like your parents even if you don't realize it or try to resist it). Twice we see Jess moving out of town with just what he can carry, and it happened offscreen when he went back to New York. Luke points out that Jess doesn't have much when first gets to Stars Hollow, but he doesn't seem to mind and says that Liz will send the rest later. In that episode, Liz tells Luke it will be that Friday. When all this stuff arrives 10 episodes later, there is of course comedic value in Luke's frustration at being trapped by mountains of boxes, but it's interesting that there is so much, and Jess doesn't seem to care about most of it. Did Liz think Jess would be comforted by this in the way she might be? Even with the extra space when the addition is built, a lot of those things realistically would not have been kept. Jess doesn't seem to own much besides books when he's in his New York apartment either.

Liz is more gregarious than Luke and Jess, but she also appears less affected when people she loves are absent. Liz calls Luke to see if Jess got to town alright in his first episode but famously doesn't ask about Jess going back to New York for the holidays. In S4, Liz is happy to see Jess both times he is in town, but she doesn't go out of her way to find out where he is or if he's okay. In S6, when she projects her concerns by telling TJ that he's going to mess up their child and throws things at him, she tells Luke that TJ left her like all the guys before him, but she's calm about it because of her "new come-what-may philosophy." Luke's the one who intervenes and gets TJ to come back while Liz is busy making new friends, and then Liz is glad to reconcile with him. Maybe Liz's apparent ease with all of this and her inclination toward meeting new people is how she's gotten through all of the losses she's experienced. She's predisposed to moving on.

Jess isn't social by nature, and as a teenager he's extra resistant to being around other people. However, in the two examples we see, once he gets emotionally attached to someone, it's for life. Being estranged from Luke and Rory affects him deeply and for a long time, and when he reconciles with them he makes it clear how important they both are to him. When he's working at Truncheon, he and his co-workers are friends, and he's conversational enough to be a successful businessperson in that environment, but April still notes that "men in this family aren't chatty" when she meets him.

For Luke, the circle of people he likes being around is small, but to those people he's extensively loyal ("Once Luke Danes is in your life, he's in your life forever"). The absence of someone he cares about clearly distresses him, and he tends to seek solitude in response. His apartment isn't cluttered, but he seems to have kept high school trophies, and he has a strong emotional attachment to things that are connected to his family: the diner, the "William's Hardware" sign, the boat, and his grandmother's bedroom furniture. Luke's life has been a bit more stable because he's the one who stuck around to take care of his parents and run the family business, and he's often hesitant to accept change. When metaphorical storms uproot Liz and Jess and take them elsewhere, they have contrasting coping mechanisms that they take with them while Luke stays behind and tries to hold down the fort, and eventually Jess finds stable footing and is able to help him. Or something like that.

[thebubblesareevil]

A Deal is a Deal…

I haven’t really posted any danny/kaldur in a bit so here you go

Danny was having a really long, really stupid day.

First he was late for his exam because he woke up to kitty and johnny fighting in his apartment. By the time he got that sorted out he had to rush to campus.

Then, by some miracle, the proctor let him in despite being late only to realize he was in the wrong exam halfway through. (He decided to finish the test and turn it in rather than admit his mistake.)

Then he finally managed to stop and get a truly unholy cup of coffee that he topped off with his last bit of ecto shot only for someone to run into him, spilling his coffee.

Which really didn’t make the blind date Sam set him up with anywhere near bearable. She was nice, don’t get him wrong, however Sam has two types of friends outside of Tucker and him. He was pretty sure he would have preferred hearing about the deforestation of the Amazon than have the heavily pierced girl get wayyy too excited when she realized he was from Amity Park. After he finally escaped with the excuse of feeding his dog Sam decided to call to find out how the date went.

“She did the thing Sam.” He stated bluntly as he struggled to unlock his door.

“And which thing would that be Danny? The one where she’s interested in your personality or the thing where you might need a restraining order?” He groaned, thumping his head on the door before checking the hall for neighbors. With the coast clear he phased through, once more leaving his arch nemesis to fight another day.

“The second one, or at least that definitely seemed where it was heading. She kept asking about all my favorite cemeteries back home.” He threw his keys on the counter, dropping his bag to the floor.

“Well did you tell her about the one near the old clocktower? I’m sure she loved that.”

“Sam, she wasn’t asking about nightly walks and talking to ghosts. She made some not so subtle hints about what she liked to do there.” He could hear Sam wince through the phone.

“Eww, sorry Danny. She really seemed like someone you would click with.” He sighed as he looked through the bare cabinets.

“Not your fault, to be fair things were going great till that point. Plus most people don’t see half as much as I do in graveyards. It could have been worse.” He grinned.

“Oh yeah, what are you thinking?”

“Do you remember that guy from the protest you set me up with awhile back?”

“You mean Orion? What about him? You said he tried to gas light you.” Sam almost sounded offended on behalf of her semi-cannibalistic friend.

“Oh he did more than that. He followed me home.”

“No!”

“Yep, apparently I was being stingy and he thought I owed him so he tried to steal my bike.” He laughed.

“Ugh, don’t worry I’ll be sure to pass the word on to his new partner Marcy. I guarantee he’ll regret it.” He shrugged as he ate a piece of plain bread.

“It’s whatever, at least he didn’t try to kill me.” Sam sighed.

“It was one time!”

“Oh really?” He said as he munched. “If I remember correctly it happened twice.” He could hear the sound of Sam smacking her forehead.

“The first time doesn’t count, that was an accident! Besides Valerie tried way more than I did.” She huffed.

“Yeah, I know.” He yawned, heading over to the bathroom, discarding his socks and shoes along the way. “Some how neither of you are even my worst exes to date.” Sam snorted.

“No I think that title belongs to that crazy Viking that was convinced you were going to start Ragnarok.” Danny felt a small tug at his core as he brushed his teeth.

“What can I say? She was charismatic!” He claimed after spitting into the sink.

“Yeah well Miss. Charismatic nearly talked you into a war with her brother just because he flirted with you.” The tug on his core got stronger. “Personally I would have gone with the brother.” Danny nodded as he nearly tripped walking to his bed.

“I mean, that was never in question. Regardless, I’m swearing off Vikings for the next century.” Danny began struggling to take his shirt off without setting down the phone. The tug on his core was stronger than ever, try as he might to ignore it.

“You really suck at this dating thing, I killed you twice and somehow I’m still not in your top ten-” Danny struggled to escape his stupid shirt as his core PULLED, sending him tumbling to the ground. With a groan Danny finally gave in and just pulled the stupid shirt through his body only to come face to face to someone that was distinctly NOT his bed.

He looked around,coming face to face to someone he was actively avoiding.

“Ello Phantom? How’s death going for ye.”

John Constantine, accompanied by what appeared to be some of the newer members of the Justice League.

Danny decided the best option for this would be to do his best impression of a confused, semi-hungover college student.

“Look man, I don’t know who you are, or what you want but do you have some coffee or something? I’m dying over here.”

“Yet not foolin anyone mate. Need a favor from you. Or rather your better half of you don’t mind.” John replied vaguely as he rubbed his hands together before blowing some kind of powder all over Danny.

Danny stood there flabbergasted, as a rain of dust? Covered him head to toe. He stood there for a minute before his face started to twitch as John began to chant a spell. Danny took a deep breath and-

“AACCHHOOO” John jumped back as the sneeze disrupted the dust.

“What the hell man?” He scolds as he rubbed his nose. John grunted.

“Stubborn little shit huh? Too bad we need the Phantom and he’s coming out one way or another.” Once more he began to chant, Danny however chose to ignore this fact as he took in the faces surrounding the circle. They were clearly some of the younger heroes, even a few apprentices by the looks of it. But Danny really didn’t have time for this, he had another exam tomorrow.

“Look man, I’m not sure what you’ve been smokin or how I got here but unless you’re gonna help me study for my engineering exam, then I gotta go.”

“Please wait.” Danny spun around to face the hero standing behind him, stopping him before he even started to leave. The handsome hero stood tall, clearly he was the leader of this group, which begged the question of-

“Why? What you guys possibly want from me?”

“Allow me to explain. I am Kaldur’ahm, though I am also known as Aquaman. We are seeking the help of a spirit of hope and protection that goes by the name of Phantom. We need his help.” Danny gave the gilled hero a considering look.

“With what?” Kaldur’ahm somehow managed to stand up even straighter.

“A powerful magician by the name of Zatanna was pulled into the Infinite Realms. We need to help of Phantom so we can venture into the realms to retrieve her.” He replied with a barely noticeable sense of urgency. Danny raised a brow.

“You want to go to another dimension? With help from a ghost named Phantom? And you want my help to what? Summon him?” John scoffed, completely ignoring the glare Aquaman sent his way.

“Don’t go playin dumb mate. How exactly do you think you got here.” He pointed to the floor “ That there is a summoning circle, invoking Phantom by name. Now here’s how I figure it. Either you’ve gone and disguised yourself or you decided to take this poor sod for a joy ride.” He smirked. “So which one is it mate?” Danny glared at the Englishman.

“Whether you’re Phantom or not we need help.” Danny sighed as he looked back at the hero.

“Well what’s in it for me? You dragged me from my apartment and you want my help, give me a reason.” He announced.

“Name your price demon.” Danny rolled his eyes at the annoying sorcerer.

“Not a demon.” He paused, trying to figure out what he could ask for as the little heroes started to get nervous. He was gonna help them one way or another, ideally they would give up on him and send him back to his apartment. It would be easy enough to get a magician out of the realms. Danny took one more look around the circle before grinning.

“How about a date?” He said, looking directly at Kaldur’ahm with a grin. He laughed before he continued “Just Kidd-”

“Deal.” Danny choked on his own spit as his cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. John shouting from the other side of the circle.

“What the bloody hell kind of request was that?!?”

“ I didn’t think he’d say yes!!!!” Danny covered his cheeks as the handsome hero smiled at him.

“A small sacrifice to help a friend, though not a difficult one.” Danny’s face turned a darker shade of red as green started to bleed into his cheeks. ‘Was this guy seriously flirting with him right now?!?’ The hero raised a single smug brow at him, tilting his head just slightly to the side.

“Do we have a deal?” Danny took a deep breath, coughing into his hand.

“Uh, yeah sure, I’ll get your friend back from the realms.” Kaldur’ahm smiled, Danny blushed. “I guess I’ll just… yeah.”

“We shall begin preparations immediately. Once Phantom arrives we should head out immediately, the less time Zatanna spends in the realms the better.” His face closing off as he got serious, Danny couldn’t deny it was cute before he realized what he said.

“Oh, yeah no, you guys aren’t going.” John practically growled causing the hairy green kid to back up.

“Like hell we aren’t! Just because you claim to be a spirit of protection doesn’t mean I trust ye.” Danny turned a steely glare on the sorcerer as he walked towards him. He made it all the way to the edge and the look of confidence he’d been sporting during this whole ordeal dropped from his face as Danny stepped over the edge of the circle.

“I don’t give two shits if you trust me! You aren’t welcome in the Realms John Constantine. Not until you get that piece of patchwork you call a soul sorted out!” He looked around at the rest of the people in the room. “Besides, it’s against the rules to bring the living into the Realms and I’d rather not have to deal with Walker today, thank you very much.” John glared.

“Look here you dead piece of sh-”

“HALF-dead thank you.” He interrupted as he started to float off the ground. “Now buzz off before I change my mind.” John looked as though he intended to reply when Kaldur’ahm stopped him.

“Enough Constantine, we need his help. For Zatanna.” The British asshole grumbled to himself as he scurried off to the side. Danny stepped back on the ground, making his way over to the Atlantean.

“Hey Kaldur’ahm, before I get your friend, you don’t actually have to go on a date with me.” He looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was gonna help you anyway, I just wanted to get under Johnny boy’s skin.” He just looked at Danny with a smile.

“I thank you, however a deal is a deal, it’s too late to back out now.” Danny’s jaw dropped as the Atlantean grinned. “And please, call me Kaldur.” Danny coughed into his hand to try to force himself to talk.

“Okay… well… okay then… um…” he studdered, dying a little more inside. “I’m gonna go get your friend we can…uh… talk about the details after.” Kaldur nodded as Danny reached a hand behind him to open a portal.

“Agreed, and please be careful Phantom.” Danny paused.

“You can, you can call me Danny.” He back with a slight stutter.

“Very well Danny.” He smiled. Danny blushes as he backed up into the portal, tripping over his own two feet as he fell through. Once on the other side he quickly reached out to find the intruder in his domain. She was easy enough to find, he didn’t even bother transforming. She was standing on an unclaimed floating island only a few miles from where he opened the portal.

Armed with the knowledge that she regularly worked with superheroes he thought it would be best to announce his presence before he surprised her.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a magician by the name of Zatanna would you?” The fierce woman turned, her wand posed, ready to send a flurry of spells at a moments notice.

“And if I am?” Danny smiled.

“A friend of yours asked me to come get you.” She looked at him suspiciously.

“And which friend would that be?”

“A cute Atlantian with a killer sense of humor, named Kaldur.” She raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’ve never heard him described as having a sense of humor.” Danny chuckled.

“Yeah, I told him I’d come get you in exchange for a date. He didn’t even hesitate. Like he’d actually wanna go on a date with a ghost!” He replied with a laugh. Zatanna however did not join in and instead looked Danny up and down before looking him dead in the eyes. She grinned.

“Gotta say I can’t exactly blame him. It’s not often he gets asked out by handsome shirtless men.” Danny squinted at her confused before looking down. His eyes went wide as he realized he hadn’t been wearing a shirt the whole time!

[mendeshoney]

if you're still taking requests i love the enemies to lovers idea with mat and maybe a mix up/your choice of "You snore. Loudly." and "I do not snore, you liar." and "I don't understand how I slept so good last night." and the "I slept really good last night." "That makes one of us."

apologies as this one took me a minute because I ended up using them all since I apparently have no restraint (womp womp)

enemies to lovers & one bed prompts w/ mat barzal

The sun wakes you up after what feels like an hour of sleep, and you can already feel the lingering exhaustion beginning to seep into your bones. Breathing out a sigh of frustration through your nose, you manage to make it all of five blissful seconds into the relatively quiet morning before your peace is disturbed.

Again.

"Bout time you got up, Sunshine."

The exhaustion is quickly replaced with irritation as your skin heats up, and against your better judgement, you blink your eyes open, annoyed to find Mat still in bed beside you, the pillow wall you'd built between you still intact, one of his elbows resting on it as he scrolls through his phone.

You fight hard not to scowl.

'Good morning to you too, asshole' is what you want to say, but instead you say nothing, pushing another deep breath through your nose and squeezing your eyes shut again.

"I slept really good last night." He muses aloud, and the cheery tone in his voice grates at your nerves even more.

"That makes one of us." You murmur, and Mat either ignores you or doesn't hear you, because he carries on like you didn't utter a single word.

As per usual.

"Ethan said we're all leaving to get breakfast in an hour," he says, "You can shower first, if you'd like."

The offer is nice...and suspicious...but you don't allow yourself to ruminate over it for too long. Without a word to Mat, you get up and gather your things, then head straight for the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

When the lock snicks, he calls out "In your dreams, Sunshine!" from inside the bedroom, and it takes your last bit of patience and restraint to not open the door and fling your hairbrush at his head.

Still, you promised Lenasia that you'd be nice to Mat this weekend, so as much as you wanted to fight back against Mat like you normally did, you couldn't.

It was Lenasia and Ethan's engagement celebration, and as a gift to Ethan, since he was his best man, Mat rented out this ridiculously large cabin for the festivities over the long weekend, and all the bridesmaids and groomsmen had been split up among the many rooms.

Since you and Mat were the only single people in the wedding party, you had no choice but to share it. Looking back, you wish you fought it just a little, because just last night, the first night of the weekend, you'd found out against your will that Mat snored like a motorcycle and had a pension for cuddling.

You'd had to rebuild your pillow wall twice the previous night and debated more times than you'd care to admit on whether or not to take one of those pillows and suffocate him with it to get him to stop snoring.

At least he'd been kind enough to let you shower first.

So as a small, minuscule, microscopic favor in return, you deliberately did not use all the hot water.

Once you finished your morning skincare, got dressed, and brushed your hair, you unlocked the door and headed back into the bedroom.

Mat was still in bed, laying with one arm behind his head, the other still scrolling on his phone, but locked his phone and sat up the second you came back.

You're silent as you put away your things and Mat gathers his own, and when you turn back to find your phone, you see Mat stretching as he glances at the bed curiously.

"What?" You ask, proud that there's none of your usual heat in your tone.

"I don't understand how I slept so good last night." He says, "I don't think I've slept that good in a long time."

The snort leaves you before you can find your restraint, and now it's Mat's turn to scowl at you.

"What?" He snaps.

"You slept that good because you create your own white noise." You snap back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You snore. Loudly."

Mat looks fully offended. "I do not snore, you liar."

"You snore like a motorcycle at bike week." You insist.

"Well you constantly flip around in your sleep." He fires back, and now you're both scowling.

"I do not!" You state, indignant.

"Like a pancake." Mat states smugly, then points at the pillow wall. "I had to wake up three times to put the pillows back because your flipping kept moving them out of the way."

That's definitely not true, and you tell him as much. "I was the one who put those pillows back after you kept trying to climb over the wall to cuddle me."

Mat scoffs. "I would rather cuddle a porcupine while sleeping on a cactus."

"You're ridiculous."

"You're a pain in the ass!"

"You're both acting like children."

Simultaneously, your gazes snap to the open doorway where Ethan is standing with his arms crossed, looking at you both in amusement.

Immediately, the two of you begin to protest, but Ethan just shakes his head. "I'm going to love telling this story at your wedding," he says smugly, before throwing a "we're leaving for breakfast in forty five minutes and you're welcome to join us if you promise not to fight" over his shoulder as he goes.

When he's out of earshot, you and Mat look back at one another, still scowling at the other.

"I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on Earth." You state.

Mat's scowl morphs into a smirk. "That's a lot of men you want me to get rid of if you want me to test that theory."

When your eyes blow out wide in disbelief, Mat barks out a laugh, heading into the bathroom and shutting it behind him.

Too frustrated to function, you leave the room right as Mat shouts "I'll leave it unlocked if you want to start testing it!"

Maybe you will suffocate him in his sleep, after all.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | March 11th-17th 2024

That premiere guys!!!!! Was so good!!!!! I'm so excited to be FINALLY be a part of the fandom while the show is actually airing! 😃 Can't wait to read all the amazing fics that are gonna be spawned from season 7!

Speaking of that, I would like to encourage everyone to use the relevant Ao3 tags when writing fics based on S7 content! Not everyone can watch the episodes as they air, so tags are really essential for people who don't want to get spoiled! (I could even make a separate post about it? a sort-of "how to tag" post?). In case you want to block some tumblr tags, my main tags for S7 are #911 season 7, #911 on abc, or #911 spoilers.

(Posting this one day early cause I don't feel like waiting until tomorrow! Enjoy! 😆)

Complete

i find peace in your smile by goforeddie/@iltrpls (A/B/O AU | 1K | General): They’ve been courting for a few months now. It’s agonizingly slow, but it’s still the best time they’ve ever had. You might think that after six years of walking on eggshells around each other, half a decade of “will-they-won’t-they” they wouldn’t be taking such a slow time with courting, but it's precisely everything that they’ve been through that makes them appreciate things a little better.

Birthday Flowers by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): OR: Buck gets Eddie flowers for his birthday. 

🔥 if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Identity Porn | 45K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.

Lime Jell-O by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (S7E01: Abandon 'Ships | 3K | Teen): Eddie Diaz didn't panic. Or, well... Maybe he did. Sometimes. But he was working on it.

take the bed warmed by the body by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): It’s three parts bravado and one part reminder. He thinks about it, sometimes, his first shift at the 118—he doesn’t think either of them quite knew how much they’d meant it when they’d promised to have each other’s backs. He definitely hadn’t known, then, that he’d wake up one day and wonder why Buck isn’t in his bed. Because that’s what’s missing. He has a vague memory of falling asleep with his head resting against Buck’s shoulder, their legs tangled together.

Taken Space by Wildgirl93/ @wildlife4life (S7E01 Coda | 1K | General): Eddie and Marisol talk about the space that has already been taken.

Feel Like I Landed On The Moon by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Canon Divergent | 1K | General): OR: Eddie is pining for Buck while in Texas.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 98K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

53. A Dream You've Had Before (Explicit) 54. We're Definitely All Sluts Here (Explicit)

if you love someone by chronicallystendan (Pre-Buddie | 1K | General): Buck and Eddie both internally panic when a song comes on the radio that seems to be talking directly to them.

adventures of firehose and eightpack by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Social Media fic | 1,5K | Mature): Or: Eddie stumbles upon Buck's old twitter account.

Two, Three Times in a Row by Leslie_Knope (PWP | 6K | Explicit): “We could’ve gone again.” Eddie snorts. “I’m old. You expect me to get it up twice?” “Yes,” Buck says, like it’s a given, like duh. “I could get you to do it right now.” The entire world pauses, and Eddie actually feels it, the bolt of arousal slinking down his spine all the way to his toes. He wets his lips. “Right now?”

WIP

🔥 miracles under your sighs and moans by napricot (Sex Pollen, PWP | 1/2 | 13K | Explicit): When Eddie gets exposed to an experimental aphrodisiac on a call, he realizes there’s only one person he trusts to help him get through it: Buck.

🔥 because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 9/10 | 63K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

~

if you know anyone that is not tagged, please tag them in the comments!

[cranberrymoons]

winter games

prompt: sports (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 605 rated: t tags: basketball, fluff, eddie enduring jock stobin ✊😔 notes: this one stands alone but is part of the future fic series!

welcome to Day 22 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Eddie has a type, and much to his eternal dismay, his type is jocks – with a heart of gold, though! That’s an important distinction. 

Anyway.

He’d been afraid that this would lead to him marrying into a Turkey Trot family, a bunch of evil sporty people in spandex who wake up at five in the morning on Thanksgiving day to run a 5K in the freezing cold before they’ll allow themselves a slice of pumpkin pie, but luckily for him, this hasn’t turned out to be the case.

Unluckily, he has instead found himself married to someone who takes basketball… so goddamn seriously. 

It’s actually kind of adorable, even if he doesn’t actually know or care what’s happening as he sits back on the couch with Steve’s feet in his lap while he and Robin yell at the screen. 

“I don’t know what the hell he thinks he’s doing,” Steve says as Eddie takes a swig of his beer and watches impassively at the tiny men in the red jerseys running back and forth on the court. “It’s like he’s never even seen a hoop before.”

“Seriously,” Robin says. She hands over her bag of chips when Steve makes a grab for it. She rips an anxious hand back through her hair where she’s curled in the big squashy armchair near the couch. “Pathetic.”

“They’re still winning though, aren’t they?” Eddie asks. They turn to him with twin exasperated looks, and Eddie widens his eyes. “Indiana. They’re winning.”

“That’s not the point,” Steve says as Robin nods along emphatically. “They should be winning by more.”

Eddie makes a face. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense to you,” Robin says. She rolls her eyes. “Just because –”

But they both devolve into outraged shouts at something that’s just happened in the game, and she doesn’t finish her thought. Steve gets so wound up that his feet shift in Eddie’s lap, heels digging into the tops of his thighs, and Eddie lets out a little grunt of pain. He squeezes Steve’s ankle to get him to move, and Steve gives him a distracted apology as he commiserates with Robin over what is apparently something worth being very upset over.

“Neither of you even went to this school,” he says under his breath, taking another swig of his drink. “Why do you even care?”

Robin glares at him. “How many ear-blasting rock shows have I sat through over the years?”

Eddie sighs. “A bunch.”

“An innumerable number,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “You can put up with one basketball game.”

Steve makes a face. “She kind of has a point.” He rubs a hand over Eddie’s arm where it rests against his legs. “Sorry. Go do a snack run or something if you’re bored. We’re not even to halftime yet.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, not when there are several hours (?) of this in his immediate future. He shifts out from under Steve and collects a few empty plates before starting in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Bring more drinks!” Robin calls after him.

“And some of the Christmas cookies from earlier!” Steve adds, craning his neck around to be heard from his spot on the couch. 

Eddie just rolls his eyes, smiling to himself as he pulls open the fridge and stares into it, considering starting some type of cooking project just to keep himself out of the way of the two-person cheering squad in the living room. 

And – okay, so his type is jocks. Doesn’t mean he actually wants to be around them when they’re doing jock things.

[also on ao3]