#and wouldn’t leave me be til I wrote it!

[kiss-inthekitchen]

bonus! i said i wasn't posting anything new til this weekend but i just got up to s5 e2 and spencer reid with that lollipop has made me insane, here's a drabble i just wrote in like 30 mins. barely edited, hot off the presses, hope u like

sucker

~500 words

Who the hell let this man have a lollipop in the workplace?

You could kill Garcia. 

You’re trying to act normal– trying so hard– but he looks so good. His hair is longer than it's ever been, so beautifully curly at the ends and you just know it’s soft. You need to test the theory but you can’t and it kills you on even a regular day. 

But today is a thousand times worse. There’s something about Spencer since he got shot, he just seems to give less of a shit. It definitely shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. 

It doesn’t help that you’d come in to tell him that you all had to be on the jet in thirty, and then he and Garcia had started asking questions, so Spencer’s been looking up at you from his chair for the past few minutes and something about it is getting to you. 

So yeah, you’re trying not to get so immediately caught for staring at Spencer as he wraps his lips around the lollipop again, but you’re also not about to miss a single second of it. You’re not about to do yourself that disservice. 

You clear your throat as the news broadcast about your unsub ends. “Right. So we’re going to Louisville.” 

Spencer moves to get up, finally. Popping the candy in his mouth, he waves one– large, long-fingered– hand at Garcia and reaches for his crutches. 

What is wrong with you?? You need to get it together before you’re stuck on the jet with pretty boy and all of the most astute people-readers in the Western hemisphere. 

God, you hate your life. If the universe was kind and loving it wouldn’t have had you meet Spencer in the behavioral analysis unit. If the universe was kind and loving, Spencer would be yours already. 

This was some kind of cosmic joke. 

“You good?” he asks. He took the lollipop out of his mouth to speak to you, his eyebrows raised in the most annoyingly attractive way. 

“Yeah?” you scoff, as if he’s the one being weird. 

“Okay. Cause you told me we have to leave and now somehow you can’t keep up with the guy on crutches,” he muses from the doorway, while you haven’t moved an inch. 

This man. If he wasn’t injured you would hurt him. You might just do it anyway. 

You shoot him a sarcastic smile. “I was being polite.” 

“How chivalrous of you,” he says, putting the candy back in his mouth and crutching his way down the hall without a second glance. 

You look at Garcia, and it’s a mistake. You can read her like a book. “Don’t,” you warn, pointing at her, and she presses her lips together but is clearly smiling behind them. “And I am so mad at you for that,” you add, gesturing after him. 

“Wh– he just took one, it’s not like I–” 

“Save it!” you call, already halfway out the room. You hear her laugh behind you, and shake your head. You love that girl, but she was not doing you any favors. 

Fuck it. 

You breeze past Spencer in the hallway. “Keep up, pretty boy.” 

You hear his indignant, playful scoff behind you, and you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face.

[loonmartell]

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, forced proximity cuz rain, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, lil fluff & banter, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a “what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

[alexsoenomel]

Rise and Shine (Dean Winchester x Reader fluff)

Requests: May I please request a Dean x reader where he finds out how ticklish she is one morning while snuggled up in bed together. He makes it his mission to find all her ticklish spots and finds her laughter absolutely adorable 🥰

Summary: Dean trying to wake up the reader from a coma.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Just fluff and I guess American Gods spoilers??

Word count: 1k+

Note: Wrote this because I was sad. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  

“What are you reading?” Dean asked as he snuggled against you, placing a kiss on your shoulder. 

“American Gods,” You said, showing him the cover. It had two guys aka the main characters standing next to a black Chevy impala and two crows watching them.

“Is that…Baby?” He asked, all excited. At heart he was still a kid – one of the many reasons why you loved him. He was sometimes insufferable, with his silly jokes and teasing, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world. 

“Hmmm, good eye.” 

“What is it about?” 

You knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone, so you took your reading glasses off, placed a book marker on the page you were currently reading and put it on your lap. 

“You know how we sometimes kill Gods?” You sometimes didn’t believe your own voice when you would say shit like this. Killing Gods, vamps, demons…you name it. Sometimes it all sounded too far-fetched to be true. “And it all seems too crazy to be true?”

“Yeah, sounds like you took too many happy pills when you say it like that.”

“Yeah, well this is worse. Mythology on crack basically.” 

“It can’t be that bad?”

“In the first chapter you learn about vaginal vore, Dean.” You said, putting the book on your night stand, along with glasses. 

“The what now?” 

“Exactly.” 

It was a Friday, and since being a haunter wasn’t exactly working 9 til 5, you decided to go to bed early. You were planning to catch the sunrise and hit the road the next day. A new case, a new town – same old, same old. 

As you turned the lights, Dean was already snuggled up against you, pulling you closer by your waist. His nose was in your freshly washed hair, as he placed a gentle kiss just under your ear, making you shiver. You rubbed your ass against his boxers and as a result he exhaled deeply.

“Don't!” He whispered. You bit your lower lip, trying to swallow a chuckle. “Sleep, or you’re driving tomorrow!” 

“Not a chance!” You said. Even though Dean was overly protective of his Baby he would still let you drive from time to time. You just hated driving, especially driving in the morning. You hated mornings. 

“Then good night, sweetheart!” He said, pulling you closer like that was even possible. You naturally had lower body temperature than Dean, so his body warmth would always make you sleepy. His scent in your nose, skin to skin – he was home. 

“Good night, handsome.” 

***

Dean woke up before you, like always. After showering and getting dressed he went to the kitchen and saw that Sam was already up, drinking coffee. It was almost 6am. 

“Mornin’.” 

“Mornin’” Sam said. “Are you driving?” 

“Yeah.” Dean said, filling  two mugs with coffee black as the night. “Give me 30 minutes, she is still asleep.” 

“Okay.” 

He tasted the bitterness of the semi-warm coffee, feeling every nerve in his brain activating. Nothing could beat the taste of black coffee in the morning for him. He felt like he was human again. When he went back to his room, you were still in a coma, only your hair was peeking from the covers. He placed the mugs on the nightstand.

“Rise and shine, princess!” He whispered, moving your hair from your face. You didn’t budge. He knew you were a heavy sleeper and the only way he was able to actually wake you up was with physical contact. He went under the covers and snuggled against you. 

"Wake up, beautiful!" 

You were half awake, feeling his warmth against you. You didn't want to wake up, your body was heavy and you could feel how tired you were. You've always said you will get proper sleep once you are dead and it was true. The life you were living wasn't for people who had a normal sleep schedule. A sign left your lips and your eyes refuse to open. 

"Sam, made coffee!" 

Nothing.

His fingers started to draw small circles on your belly as you squirmed. The sensation was strange, enough to pull you back to the Earth, finally. 

"Mmm no!" You mumbled, snuggling your head under his chin. He smelled fresh like pines and you could feel the fabric on his body; he was already dressed. It hit you. It was already time to get up. Dean's hand was resting on your side.

"Mmm yes!" He said and kissed the top of your head. 

"Five minutes!" 

"It's never five minutes with you!"

He started doing the same thing again, brushing his fingers against your skin making you squirm. You mumbled something under your breath and moved his hand from your naked body.

"What is it?"

"That tickles." 

Dean made an "oh" sound when he realized what you were talking about. Maybe that will wake you up?

"You ticklish?" He asked.

Still groggy you mumbled no but he didn't believe you. 

Instead his hand went on your thigh and again he started drawing small circles as lightly as he possibly could. 

"Stop!" You mumbled again, growing annoyed by the second.

"YOU ARE!" He said. 

This time he went in with full force. He wanted to discover your weak spots as his fingers touched any naked surface he could find, and since you slept in only your underwear it was easy. 

"NO, DEAN!" Your eyes were fully open now and you were awake. Your instinct kicked in and you tried to get him off you, kicking your feet, but he was holding you with his other hand. 

"Oh yes!"

Your still sleepy body was now awake and spasming, feeling rather uncomfortable. You hated that feeling. You didn't want to laugh and yet you couldn't stop. 

"STOP IT!" 

He took both of your hands and put them above your head, now on top of you inches away from your face. The smell of coffee in his breath on your face and a silly little smirk watching you as you were finally fully awake and aware of your own existence. 

"Good morning sunshine," his voice was deep as the Pacific and raspy enough to make you shiver. 

His lips met yours in a light kiss.

"From now on I'm waking you up like this." 

"Please don't!" 

"You laugh like a house, it's adorable!" 

You frowned and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

"Eat me,Winchester!"

"I'll when we finish the case!" He winked. 

[thecoleopterawithana]

Now and Then

1977

Now and Then: I know it's true / It's all because of you

And if I make it through / It's all because of you / And now and then / If we must start again / Well, we will know for sure / That I love you

I don't wanna lose you, oh no / Abuse you or confuse you / Oh no, no, sweet darlin' / But if you have to go away / If you have to go, well you the reason [?]

Now and then / I miss you / Oh, now and then / I want you to return to me / 'Til you return to me / I know it's true / It's all because of you / And if you go away / I know you could never stay

.

1978

Love Awake: Love awake to the day / When we can make our love awake / Lord knows we need it any time we can get it / But we forget it every now and then / But if you don't feel it, later on, you'll regret it / And if we let it we could set it free, you and me

.

1981

My Old Friend: If I told you how I feel / Oh, it wouldn’t sound so real / ‘Cause emotions, they are just now settin’ in / But it sure is great to know / That wherever we may go / We can always be the best of friends

My old friend, / Thanks for inviting me in / My old friend, / May this goodbye never mean the end / If we never meet again this side of life / In a little while, over yonder, / Where it’s peace and quiet / My old friend, / Won’t you think about me every now and then

.

Well, it was something that I’ll never live long enough to forget. It happened in February of 1981 and as the world all knows, and never will forget, in December of 1980 when John Lennon was taken away from us, and so this was the following year, in February. I wrote the song about and for Paul McCartney. I did it because he was so kind to invite me down to this beautiful island of Montserrat with Stevie Wonder. Ringo was there, just had a wonderful time. I flew down by myself. Paul and Linda met me with a jeep on the (center) airfield with a little single engine plane and took me across the mountains we were like kids again, and it was a wonderful time, and I wanted to do… I didn’t want to cry when I left after staying down there, and I’m a big crybaby! If something moves me, I’ll just choke up… I talk about it. I thought that would happen, so the night before, I just wrote how I felt on the isle of Montserrat on every shell, forget a country boy with a guitar and a song you invited me, and you treated me like kin, and you’ve given me a reason to go on. So my old friend, think about me every now and then. I sang it for Paul, at about 10:00 the next morning. I was scheduled to leave flying again in the little single engine aircraft to the island of Antigua where I was flying commercial back to Atlanta and on to Nashville and back to Jackson, where I live here. I sang it, he said “Carl, it’s beautiful… would you sing it again?” and I said. “Sure, man.” He said “wait just a minute,” and he got Linda in there, and they sat on the floor, I sat on his old Fender twin reverb amplifier, with a guitar, I did however notice a microphone over there. I didn’t pay that much attention to it, but George Martin recorded it and after I finished singing the song to Paul, he was crying, tears were rolling down his pretty cheeks, and they’re pretty to me just like they are to the rest of the world. I think he’s a very handsome boy and always did. He’s even handsomer when he’s crying. And Linda said, “Carl, thank you so much.” I said, “Linda, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She said, “But he’s crying and he needed to. He hasn’t been able to really break down since that happened to John.” I mean he stepped outside of the room, out by the pool, and he just had his handkerchief out, and he was going at it. And she put her arm around me and said, “But how did you know?” I said, “Know what, Linda? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” She said “There’s two people in the world that know what John Lennon said to Paul, the last thing he said to him. Me and Paul are the only two that know that, but now there’s three and one of you… you know it. I said, “Girl, you’re freaking me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She said the last words that John Lennon said to Paul in the hallway of the Dakota building were… he patted him on the shoulder, and said, ‘Think about me every now and then, old friend.’ Q: That’s just amazing… And she said, here you are, that’s what you just sang, and how did you know? And I said I didn’t know it, gosh, I didn’t know it. But McCartney really feels that Lennon sent me that song, he really does.

— Carl Perkins, interviewed for Goldmine (September 26, 1986).

.

1994

Paul had gone to Yoko to ask if she had any of John’s songs kicking around. The deal was that Paul would induct John into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in return. Yoko’s a generous person in that respect, so she actually gave him three songs – 'Free As A Bird' and 'Real Love' were worked up and released, the last one wasn’t.

— Source close to the Anthology project, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

.

1995

It was one day – one afternoon, really – messing with it. The song had a chorus but is almost totally lacking in verses. We did the backing track, a rough go that we really didn’t finish. It was sort of a bluesy sort of ballad, I suppose, in A minor. It was a very sweet song. I liked it a lot. Should it ever be completed it would probably end up as either ‘Now And Then’ or ‘Miss You’. I wished we could have finished it.

— Jeff Lynne, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

It didn’t have a very good title, it needed a bit of reworking, but it had a beautiful verse and it had John singing it. [But] George didn’t like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn’t do it.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for Q Magazine (November 2006).

.

2007

There are a couple of things which may surface at some point. You see, with the Beatles, there’s always a surprise somewhere along the line. We did ‘Free As A Bird’ and ‘Real Love’, those two songs of John’s, and that was very exciting, very moving for me and very comfortable having his voice in my headphones in the studio again. And there was a third track, another song we had our eyes on called ‘Now And Then’. l actually wanted to do it on Anthology 3, but we didn’t all agree. But things change and the thing is that it might not go away. There was only one of us who didn’t want to do it. lt would have meant a lot of hard work, the song would have needed a lot of re-writing and people would have had to be very patient with us. But there are these one or two things lurking in the bushes. The Beatles might just raise their ugly little heads again…

— Paul McCartney, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

.

2012

And there was another one we started working on, but George went off it. We were like, ‘No George, this is John’. He said, ‘It’s still rubbish’. ‘Ok, then’. So that one is still lingering around. I’m gonna nick it with Jeff and do it. Finish it, one of these days.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for the “Mr Blue Sky: The Story of Jeff Lynne & ELO” documentary (2012).

.

2018

Get Enough: It was a time when we walked by the docks / I told you, "I need you all of my life" / And watching the tugs rolling by together / Do you remember? / Do you remember the lights on the shore? / How they reflected the rain on the road? / I believed that you love me alone / It was real / Do you remember? / Now and then I see your face / I've been wanting a lovin’ embrace / I've been looking for love, but it gets me nowhere / Oh, yeah, yeah

Get enough, get enough, get enough of (Your love) (x2) / I can't get enough of / Of you

It was a time we were all full of hope / Saw the future burning bright / As we watched the moon rollin’ out to sea / Do you remember? / But those days are erased from my mind / Yeah, I've left all those old days behind / But still I remember your face forever, forever

.

If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Diane Sawyer for ABC News (November 2, 2000).

.

2022

And then 'Now and Then’ just kind of languished in a cupboard and we didn’t do anything with it. I kept saying, “You know, maybe we should do something with this, seems a bit—” “Hm, I don’t know…” There wasn’t a great desire to do anything with it. So it hung around for a while. Years! And every so often, I’d kind of go to the cupboard and think, “There’s a new song in there! We should do it! We gotta do it!” But it’d go back in the cupboard.

— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

I got a phone call from Paul saying, “Is it possible to use that [MAL] technology for another project I’ve been thinking about? […] Would it be possible to take John’s vocal and clean it up and get rid of everything else? Because that would allow us to finish this Beatles song.” And absolutely, it didn’t take me more than about a second to get back to him and say, “Of course we can do it!”

— Peter Jackson, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

.

2023

Now and Then: I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you

And now and then / If we must start again / Well we will know for sure / That I will love you

Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me / Always to return to me

I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if you go away / I know you’ll never stay

Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me

I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you

.

I do feel as though ‘Now and Then’ is a love letter to Paul written by John. I mean, I've never really asked Paul about it, and I'm not sure whether Paul would say, ‘Oh, that's definitely it,' because he wouldn't want to second guess John. But that's the sense I get. And I get the feeling that's why Paul was so determined to finish it.

— Giles Martin, interviewed for PEOPLE magazine (October 26, 2023).

When you say you enjoy 'Now and Then', that’s really nice, because that’s why we do it. We do it so people can listen to stuff and not just hear it. 'Now and Then' sounds like a love song. It sounds like a song that John wrote for Paul, and the other Beatles: “I miss you/ Now and then.” It sounds like Paul has gone there, which I think he did. You know, no one told Paul to go and do it, and Paul didn’t go, This would be a great exercise for the Red and Blue Album. He was at home in the studio. He dug on the record and started working on it, because it’s his mate. And he really misses John. I mean, that’s the truth. They broke up, and John died nine years later. It really isn’t very long.

— Giles Martin, interviewed for GRAMMYS (October 26, 2023).

.

When I remember the Beatles, I remember the joy, the talent, the humor, the love. And I think, if people remembered us for that — for those things — I’d be very happy.

— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

[stevesjockstrap]

It’s Inertia

Steve/Eddie • Rated M • No UD, childhood friends, idiots to lovers, misunderstandings, pining • cw: underaged drinking and some fooling around • read on ao3

@stcreators event 5: tropes

@steddiesongfics Inertia - AJR

A box on my bingo square c/o @lucassinclaer

“Promise we’ll be best buds forever?”

Steve looked up from the mud pie he was squishing in his hand, finding Eddie stationed at a fallen log to ‘bake’ their pies. They’d been playing together like this all summer, since Eddie had moved to town. He was a few years older than Steve but scrawnier, ‘gangly’ his mom would call it, so he looked younger than his age.

They’d quickly bonded over shared horror stories of their parents, both getting left home too young. Eddie’s stories had put a lot of his own to shame though. But now he was with his Uncle Wayne and he seemed to be doing better. Gaining weight and his eyes weren’t as sunken in as they were earlier in the summer.

“What do you mean? Of course we will.” Steve walked over to plop his pie into the line of them on the log. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“School starts soon… and I don’t know anyone. We’ll be in different classes and stuff.” Steve watched as Eddie drew in on himself, making himself even smaller in his crouch by the log. Steve hated it. “Kids don’t usually like me. Even when I went before- I mean, I’ve always been the weird kid.”

“It’s Hawkins,” Steve shrugged. “Everyone’s weird. You’ll make friends. And even if you don’t, we’ll still hang out. We’re going to be best friends forever.” Steve felt better when Eddie’s shoulders dropped and he smiled at him. “Who else is going to make world famous pies with me?”

They laughed and Eddie wrote their initials into the mud pie he made, adorning it with leaves and rocks. Eddie put twig candles on it and they both pretended to blow them out, making wishes.

Steve closed his eyes, wishing hard that they would be best friends forever. He’d never had a friend like Eddie before.

“It’s just me.”

Steve started as cold hands pulled his blanket from him before relaxing, not even bothering to open his eyes. Eddie frequently scaled his trellis and crawled in his window, claiming nightmares or weird sounds in the trailer park were keeping him up.

If his parents were in town, in the mornings Eddie would quietly get ready with Steve and sneak to the front door and they’d both wait for the bus outside. More often, they got the run of the house, giggling at each other over burnt toast in the kitchen.

They got through middle school this way, Steve trying his best to look out for him at school but always seemed to turn the corner too late, Eddie’s nose bleeding or hunched over from a gut check. Eddie always waved him off afterwards.

“It is what it is, Stevie. Maybe a few more broken noses will make me pretty,” he joked as they walked to the trailer.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he already was, but he just laughed along instead.

“For I never saw true beauty til this night.”

Stepping backstage to a mild applause and a lot more snickering, Steve blinked into the darkness and came face to face with Eddie. He was clapping slowly but loudly with a teasing look on his face.

“Nice job, Romeo. All the practicing really paid off.” Eddie had jumped right into helping him prepare for this torture when Steve’s English teacher had suggested he perform the monologue at their eighth grade talent show to earn enough points to pass.

Steve rolled his eyes at him. “I missed an entire line. But thanks. You’re up.”

They exchanged a sardonic grin as Eddie shouldered his guitar and walked past him onto the brightly lit stage.

He was transfixed as he watched Eddie immediately take over the stage, singing and jumping around and meticulously hitting the chords. He’d similarly watched Eddie practice this song unendingly, but seeing it now live and in front of a crowd was astonishing.

The song came to an end and Steve clapped extra loud and whooped, earning a huge grin from his friend as he ran towards him for a hug.

He thought maybe Shakespeare had actually known a thing or two.

“Oh, oh!”

He was having a good dream. A very good dream. Then suddenly he was cold, and a hand was shaking his shoulder.

“Wha-? Eds?” He croaked.

“You, uh, it’s okay Steve. Um, I think I’m gunna go. I-it’s, uh, yeah-“

Steve shook his head and tried to reach out for him. They’d always slept all curled up together. It was fine. But once he was finally able to focus on Eddie’s face, he felt like he’d been dunked under in his freezing cold pool. He looked terrified.

“Hey, what?” Steve tried again, finally sitting up and realizing the issue. “Oh fuck,” he gasped.

“It’s fine, Steve. I-it’s normal and everything, you know. But,” Eddie blinked at him from practically across the room, jumping into his jeans. “I’ll see you later.”

He was gone before Steve would fully wake up.

He sat there glaring at his awkward boner until it finally went away. Eddie would probably never want to talk to him again. He pulled the pillow over his head and tried to force himself to go back to sleep.

His dream had been about sharp hip bones and dark curly hair.

“Ah, how the mighty have fallen. Tussling with Buns of Steel didn’t seem to go very well for you, huh?”

He moved the bag of ice he was holding to his face to peer through his good eye (well, better than the swollen shut one, but it was still pretty blurry) to find Eddie propped against the doorway. He had Steve’s pile of books and notebooks tucked under an arm. Eddie must have saved them from the hallway.

Steve sighed. “That’s what I get for sticking up for our kids, huh?” Billy always seemed to have a problem with Lucas and by extension the rest of the party, but now that Max had finally told him they were dating, he seemed to be even worse. Steve had finally had enough and thrown the first punch, but as Henderson usually reminded him, he didn’t win fights.

Eddie nodded shortly before coming over to help him stand. “Let’s ditch the rest of the day, man. You’ve earned it and you need a chauffeur.”

Back in his empty house, Eddie procured him some mystery pills to take (he hadn’t asked questions), and they cuddled up on the sofa.

As the pills started to kick in, his body started reacting to Eddie’s close proximity and the muscle memory of what seemed to keep happening when they got high or drunk together. It had started the first summer after Eddie hadn’t graduated on time. Just blowing off some steam and making his friend feel better. That’s all it was.

But now Eddie was sober, laughing lightly at the dumb movie they’d put on, rumbling Steve’s body with it since they were pressed so close.

Steve sunk his hand into Eddie’s hair and something in his chest relaxed when Eddie hummed at him and settled impossibly closer, laying his head on Steve’s chest.

Somehow their legs shifted and Eddie’s was between his. There was a small gasp from one of them before their mouths met and he had a lap full of Eddie.

He smiled into the kiss, feeling better than he had in a long while. Maybe since the last time he’d been drunk and this had happened.

Waking up on the couch the next morning, Eddie still wrapped around him, he realized he never felt this light or content with any of the girls he had fooled around with.

He mentally shrugged and made himself try to go back to sleep, it was probably just because he had known Eddie for so long.

“Chug chug chug!”

He finished shotgunning his beer and tossed the empty at Tommy who let it drop to the floor, laughing hysterically at him.

Steve had thrown a huge house party again because Eddie had told him he could charge everyone triple rates and he needed a new guitar.

But now as he watched him laugh and lean into Chrissy Cunningham from his perch in the dining room, Steve’s stomach clenched. He tried to blame it on the shit beer he’d just downed.

“Steve!”

He spun at the sound of Eddie’s voice a while later, a zing going up his spine.

“I’m gunna, uh, take Chris home. Jason’s been all over her and she needs a ride. Sorry I can’t help clean up.”

Steve tried to make his face remain neutral. He knew that was Eddie’s covert way of saying he wasn’t coming back. Every other party he had thrown, Eddie stayed. He just nodded and Eddie sent him a wary smile.

Ignoring all the garbage and spilled cups, he lined up shots in his empty kitchen. Hopefully that would be enough to let him pass out so he could sleep in his big bed all alone tonight.

He tried not to let himself think about the real reason he’d thrown the party, or what Eddie and Chrissy were getting up to.

“Where are you gunna go?”

Eddie was packing. Decided today was it. Called Steve to come help. Steve’s throat hurt, like there was glass stuck it in. There must’ve been some in his chest, too.

“Probably Indy, maybe Chicago if the van will make it. I gotta get to a bigger city and start playing at bigger clubs, where someone important will actually hear. Could try to save up some money and record a demo.”

Steve knew Eddie’s dream of being a rockstar had been steadfast but unattainable in their small town. He knew that. But seeing it now, right in front of him like this was different.

“There’s nothing here for me.”

It felt like a physical punch to the gut and he almost sunk to the floor, instead allowing the doorframe to hold more of his weight as his knees threatened to give out. “Oh.”

They hadn’t been spending as much time together since Steve had graduated and Eddie hadn’t (again). Steve was dating Nancy, working at the dumb mall with his dumb ice cream outfit. Had met Robin and spent the summer irritating Eddie and Nancy with their dumb antics. But he still made sure Eddie was included, Robin and Nancy helping him with studying and essays. Steve hadn’t been able to get into college with his grades so he wasn’t a great candidate for that, but he was there for moral support.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. Swallowing past the shard of glass in his throat and nodded, helped Eddie load the boxes and garbage bags into the van. They stopped for a quick tight hug before Eddie got in and drove away.

He didn’t let himself cry until he was alone in his bed.

“You’re really marrying her?”

The abrupt question sunk in his stomach like a heavy stone. Steve wasn’t sure who had told him. They’d stayed in touch over the years, Eddie sending postcards from his travels and calling when he could. Steve knew he spoke to the kids from time to time. It must’ve been one of them who spilled the beans.

“That’s the plan. She’s the niece of the Wallace Investments’ CEO. It’ll, um, open a lot of doors for me. And for dad’s businesses.” An ultimatum from his dad. It was the story he didn’t really want circulating, but it was the truth. He could never lie to Eddie about anything. Well, anything except for one big thing.

“You make it sound more like a business merger than a marriage,” Eddie scoffed.

“That’s because it pretty much is.”

Steve quickly changed the subject to his new album and a new tour starting. They exchanged some more small talk before someone was shouting at Eddie and he had to go.

“Good talking to you, Stevie. I’ll send you a postcard from the next place.” It sounded exactly like the write off Steve knew was coming sooner or later.

He brushed off the questions from his friends and new fiancée as he shut himself off the next few weeks, only breaking out of the fog to check his mailbox.

If his Corroded Coffin cassette got extra attention in his car for only his ears, that was neither here nor there.

“What the fuck?”

Steve looked around at all of his friends, then turned back to Robin when his eyes landed on Eddie across the room.

“This is an intervention, Steve. We’re all tired of you both moping. You’re staying in this room until you work it out-“

“Or you kill each other.” Dustin piped in. There were some muffled laughs from around the room.

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, but yes. Sort out your shit, dinguses.”

Something she said finally processed in his brain. “Wait… both?” But no one was listening to him as they all filed out.

Jonathan and Jeff patted him on the shoulder as they passed.

Once they were alone, Eddie threw himself into a folding chair with a sigh.

“You didn’t send any postcards,” Steve found himself saying. Of all the things he wanted to say to Eddie now, he wasn’t sure why that had stung the most.

Eddie shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

Frowning, he approached him. “Why not?”

Eddie watched him sink into his own folding chair. He assumed they’d both been tricked into thinking this was just dinner. But they’d been lead back into this private room instead.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to, really. And I sort of fell into a pit of despair after you told me…” he swallowed hard like he couldn’t say the words.

Steve clenched his jaw. He couldn’t be upset over that. Really.

“It’s, um, off. You know, the wedding. The marriage. We, uh, I- I guess everyone involved sort of saw it wasn’t going to pan out.”

“What?”

Eddie looked hopeful now, and Steve stopped to actually take in his appearance. He looked terrible. Big dark circles on the bags under his eyes. He was paler than he’d ever been and his hair somehow looked both greasier and drier than he’d ever seen it.

“It’s not happening. I think-“ he chuckled dryly. “Well, I sort of fell into my own pit of despair. And my dad and my fiancée let me off the hook.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s eyes were wild.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not getting married?” He asked like it meant everything.

Steve shook his head and suddenly Eddie was very close, standing between his legs with his hands on his shoulders.

“You’re not getting married?” Eddie repeated.

He cleared his throat, looking up into Eddie’s bewildered face. “No, Eds. I’m not getting married.”

They blinked at each other for a long moment before Eddie’s hands came up to cradle his head and he looked deep into his eyes for a moment.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve gasped but nodded and before he could close his eyes, his mouth was overtaken by Eddie. Kissing him when they were both sober and after all the years spent apart was earth shaking.

Finally, when his brain caught up, he pulled back.

Eddie’s face closed off and he moved away so he was no longer touching him. Steve couldn’t have that, so he reached out for his belt loop and pulled him hard so he fell into his lap.

“Eds, I- I’m just, what is happening?”

Eddie took a deep breath before cupping his face again. “It’s you. It’s always been you for me. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“Forgiven,” Steve sighed before capturing his lips again.

He wasn’t going to let him go now that he finally had him.

“Well I think they figured it out,” Jeff quietly chuckled from the doorway.

“Thank fuck, they’ve been driving me more insane than usual.” Robin grinned at him. She held her hand up and Jeff high-fived her. “We make a great team. C’mon, you’re buying dinner for everyone, hot shot. And we’ll have to work out a visitation schedule, this doesn’t mean I get zero Steve time.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but laugh as they walked back down the hall together. “You got it, Buckley.”

[princessbrunette]

alright. i know. i literally gave you an anakin prompt already. but☝️ ..i’m here with another one.

modern!anakin running one of those tumblr porn blogs to talk about his nasty little fantasies. (not sure you remember this, but i wrote him posting “i like doing evil things to pretty girls.” while ago as an example of that behavior) and you happen to follow him. maybe you interact with him because you’re intrigued by his gross language and you reach out (maybe you swap some pics, and agree to meet). not sure how you’d wanna play it but ! i thought you’d wanna know about it

i think what’s so sexy about him doing this is he’s like… oddly nonchalant about it? he’ll mutual you, but never come onto you in a sexual or creepy way bc he’s a people pleaser and cares too much about people thinking he’s a weirdo. instead he just sends you memes relating to something you posted about one time just to show he listens, you know?

and like duh, he wants to fuck you, he’s a guy with a dick. but it’s better just to befriend you first, right? doesn’t wanna be a douche about it.

but then the two of you start talking properly outside of just memes, and calling, and flirting, and oh god — you’re one of those people. falling for someone online. someone who wouldn’t care that much to fly out to see you right? right?

he ends up in your city, and suddenly you’re picking him up from the airport ?? and you’re thinking jesus christ, yeah i’ve seen pictures of him and he’s very good looking but that’s gotta be… altered in some way right? there’s no way someone that fine runs a tumblr blog that depraved… and soon all 6ft- what, 4? of him is walking towards you in the airport, smiling so friendly and opening his sculpted arms for a hug and you’re just ????? fuck my life ??????

so the two of you go out to a bar, and literally one glass of wine in each and you’re giving him the big doe fuck me eyes, talking so much you don’t even think to get a second drink, the chemistry buzzing through your bones and up your skirt. he didn’t think he’d be getting lucky this fast, jesus — he booked to be here for like 2 weeks so he can really milk it out of you. poor thing was just too needy for it.

you’re blabbering how you’ve never done this before, having some guy fly out and fucking him on the first night when you leave the bar arm in arm, headed straight for his hotel. you think he might crumble under the pressure, again — who runs a blog that depraved and actually knows how to do all the stuff they talk about? but he’s so calm, collected, chuckling at your eagerness, reiterating one million times that there doesn’t ’have to’ be anything. not to feel pressured to do anything just because he flew out. great, so he’s a good guy too. you’re surprised your arousal wasn’t running down your legs like a faucet.

he knows his stuff, and it shows back in the hotel room, bringing you a glass of water even though you had one glass, telling you to drink it, forcing every form of consent out of you because he needs to know you want this like he does. even so, so much kissing once you start — giving you time to back out, giving you time to get so drooly and desperate you’re humping his lap and nearly crying.

anakin soothes you. “what do you want baby? flew out here just to see this pretty face, lemme give you what you want sweet girl just gotta tell me.” muttering it against your lips like he’s casting a spell.

“wanna — wanna do all the stuff you wrote about. thought about it every night.” you mewl, your tits heaving against his strong chest. there’s that low chuckle again, pretty smile lines on his cheeks you can’t help but kiss.

“mm, i remember a few you liked a lot. what was that one about having you on my lap, dick all in your guts, just rubbing that pretty clit ‘til you cream all over it. something like that, right baby?” his hands are massaging your hips and god — yes, yes yes whatever you say, nodding so hard your head might come off.

safe to say he keeps his word, showing you everything he knows.

[xy0o]

“Dont let it all go to your head.”

Before you read this is based on a song! I would recommend you listen while reading, (Better People to Leave on Read by Emei)

Also this is not proof-read! So there maybe some errors!!

You’re an overlord, a powerful one at that.. and you always loved putting on a show. You loved to write and sing songs, especially back when you were alive. Your official debut when you were alive was with your ex husband, Alastor. You both sang love songs on stage your voice and his power due to his job as a radio host combined was, unstoppable.

Until…

Mimzy.

Mimzy was a wake up call for you. You began to notice things you never noticed before, the way girls stared at your husband or the way their touch lingered on his arm for too long. Mimzy noticed the way you visibly tensed up when she touched him and she definitely used it to her advantage, in life and in hell.

At first the little details were small, him leaving the house often, getting texts from her in the middle of the night, and the way he pretended he didn’t hear you sometimes when you said you loved him.

You thought you were going crazy until you went through his phone while he was in the shower. He claimed to hate technology, (especially Vox) but it was weird he was on it so much.

You’ll never forget the way your heart pounded and the tears that flew down your face seeing the messages he sent and was receiving towards, Mimzy.

You couldn’t bring yourself to read more, after closing the phone and putting it like it was before you wiped your tears. If these fuckers really thought you wouldn’t find out, they were wrong. So undeniably wrong, and you were gonna show them you were better.

You packed up your things that you needed, immediately leaving the house.

Til’ Death Do Us Part, Right?

But we’re already past that phase, so you left your wedding ring and divorce papers on the bed.

Thank god for your powers or else you surely would’ve been dead by now. You owned millions of souls, and that made you able to own your own side of the pentagram.

Tonight, you were going to sing the song you wrote about how you felt. It was your own way of dealing with things and you were sure your loyal listeners will be there to hear the new song.

You walked into the dressing room, picking a black low-cut dress with a sliver necklace with your own initial. Once you were done and began to walk out you immediately heard a whistle from one of the people apart of your band, “Damn Y/N! You look too good tonight, is it because of the song? Good shit not gonna lie.”

You nodded, grabbing her hand and walking out to the stage. “Thanks, I hope they think so too.”

When you opened the curtains you heard the crowd erupt into cheers and catcalls. You grabbed the mic, turning to your band mates and back up vocalists making sure they were ready to go.

3..

2..

1..

Action.

“God you’re just so obvious,”

You swayed your hips while walking around on stage, “Hit me up when I am killing it.”

The texts you received from him trying to apologize, assuming that you’d really go back to him.

“Do you really think I needed it? Your opinion means nothing to me.”

As you danced around stage, your eyes made eye contact with the last person you were expecting.

Mimzy

You didn’t flinch, and you sure as hell didn’t stop. You kept eye contact with her, smirking because this next part was about her.

“Did you happen to forget.. the little details like texting my boyfriend in the middle of the night.”

You bent over slightly in a suggestive way, “Did you happen to forget, all of the pictures that you sent him.”

You pointed the middle finger at her while watching her eyes fill with rage, “Recognized you from that tattoo on your thigh!~”

You stood up, continuing to dance around stage as you recall all of the vulgar pictures she sent him. “Love that you like to assume I’d waste a single second on you, but I’ve got better people to leave on read.. don’t let it all go to your head.”

Then you finally took a good look at the people in the crowd, it was filled with hell-borns and sinners with a few overlords. Your favorites at least, except for Alastor. He was standing right next to Mimzy, of course he was. You scoffed before singing with newfound confidence.

“Who’s your therapist? Fire your therapist.”

“Your audacity, reaching out to me, when the last text was a half-hearted apology!”

The texts he sent while still being with Mimzy, the good morning texts and all while acting like you two were still together. He signed the divorce papers at least, but he was still desperate for you.

“Love that you like to assume I’d waste a single second on you, but I’ve got better people to leave on read..” (x2)

You stopped singing, letting your backup vocalists do their part. You smiled as the song end, hearing people scream for an encore.

Before you could began to speak into the mic, a familiar blonde blob made her way onto your stage.

What the hell did she think she was doing?

“Don’t go trying to charm my man! He’s mine, and clearly he picked the better one out of the two of us.”

Oh she wanted to go there?

Fine, you’ll go there.

“It seems like he just needed a new thrill in life Mimzy, because all your man has been doing is hitting up my phone everyday.”

She whipped her head towards where Alastor was supposed to be only to find out he’s teleporting away, “Y-YOU BITCH!”

She desperately tried to swing at you, but the height difference worked in your favor. All you had to do was kick her off stage and problem solved, so that’s exactly what you did.

You looked down at her, “Mimzy.. if you ever think that you’re welcome here oho, you are SO wrong! If I find out you come into MY territory again, it won’t end so well for you will it?”

You watched as she cried and ran towards the exit, she really is pathetic. Realizing you had a crowd to entertain, you began to do an encore because..

the show must go on.

[dreaminginpencil]

Found this in my drafts and had forgotten to post it soooo...

This art is based on a twitter thread drabble I wrote about Steve and his soft toy Bunny and growing up in difficult situations and loving people that are sick the best that you can.

It's also posted in full on AO3 if you wanna support me there ❤️

(CW: depression and neglect of a child) Steve’s mom suffered with poor mental health and Steve didn’t understand. Eddie does too, and maybe Steve understands better now.

When Steve was small, his parents’ door was open a crack most of the time, the sweet grown-up scents of perfume and cologne drifting out. Their bedroom was a treasure trove of wonders, their expansive closet full of clothes that swished and slipped over his little fingers, his mom’s dressing table cluttered with ornate glass bottles of perfume, sweet-smelling waxy lipstick, and delicate compacts of powders, her silver-backed beautiful hairbrush. Sometimes his mom even brushed his hair like hers, til it gleamed, shiny and soft.

When the bedroom door was closed, Steve knew to knock first, knew he should probably wait and ask for their time later.

Sometimes though, sometimes his mother would shut the bedroom door and she would not leave the room for days. His father would sleep on the couch, or make excuses and go away on “business”.

There would be no sweet smells of perfume, only dark and silence. His father told him that his mom was sick, to let her rest. Steve didn’t understand why she didn’t want to see him. When he was sick, he wanted cuddles and toast and hot drinks with honey and his Bunny with one ear loved almost all the way off.

Steve would sit outside her door with his Bunny and wait. He would wait and wait and eventually when he was lonely and tired he would knock quietly and creep into her room.

With the heavy damask curtains drawn, it drowned the room in blue shadows, the looming frame of the four poster and it’s mounds of blankets piled up. Steve felt like he was climbing a mountain to find his mom amongst them all.

“Are you sick? Do you want toast?”

He would offer her his Bunny, cuddle close. She did not smell like perfume, just something stale and forgotten.

“Mommy’s tired Stevie.”

Sometimes she wouldn’t speak at all, just touch his hair. Sometimes she would tell him to leave her.

“Go and play Stevie.”

Steve didn’t know how to explain with her there was nobody to play with and that his father had gone away somewhere and he was hoping she would make him macaroni.

Steve learnt to get to the high up pantry shelves for snacks until his father got home, or til his mom stopped feeling tired.

She seemed more than tired, but what did he know?

The older Steve got, the more often his mom was tired. He learnt not to ask anymore, just to lie down with her, to be patient, to be sweet.

He learnt to bring her food, even if she would not eat it, to make her tea and open the curtains up. He learnt to coax her from bed and to her vanity, so he could brush the dark tangle of her hair until it gleamed and fell like silk down her back. He ran her hot baths and always gave her his Bunny.

When his parents started to go away and not come home, Steve wondered who took care of her. If his father still left her alone.

She would sound far far away when he called her. “I’m tired Stevie, we’ll speak soon.” The dial tone felt heavy.

Steve gets tired too, but there is nobody who will come to check on him, so he cannot sleep through it.

Eddie is like his mother was, sometimes.

After the Upside Down, after Vecna, Eddie is dogged by the shadow of consequence. They won, yes, they won, but Eddie is scarred and scared and sometimes he is very tired.

Steve knows how to take care of Eddie when he’s tired.

He can come to Eddie in his quietness, in his tangled unwashed sheets and his dark bedroom and he can offer, piece by piece, the things he knows.

He can kiss Eddie’s clammy forehead, his tangled hair, curl up with him and pay no heed to the mortification of dirty sheets for a while. He can crack the blinds and bring him his painkillers and water and coffee. He can coax Eddie to a shower, washing the sleep and the sadness from his skin. He can change his sheets, trade them for clean soft cotton and comfort.

When Eddie is clean and so tired again, Steve can brush his long hair until it’s free from tangles and falls long and dark down his back.

Sometimes Eddie needs time to be tired, but Steve can care for him still, with quiet affection and patience.

Eddie may need time, sometimes, but he never entirely closes the door to shut Steve out.

[juniperskye]

Remember That Night.

Sneak Peak: Hotch reaches out to you five months after breaking your heart. Based on the song Remember That Night by: Sara Kays

Aaron Hotchner x GN! Reader

Angst

Word count: 1095

I wrote this in an hour soo…. it’s not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, not use of y/n, some language, implied smut, talk of heartbreak, some mention of toxic-ish relationship, reader and friends are all left gender neutral, idk ummm bad writing – lol. Let me know if I missed any!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

He had broken things off just over five months ago. It had been out of the blue and you were devastated. The day after he said goodbye you had felt paralyzed, things had been so good, so how could Aaron be so okay with walking away? You had a hard time grasping onto reality after he left, so much so that all you did was lay in bed and cry. You had ignored all the incoming texts and calls from your friends for a few days, finding it impossible to leave your bed. But as time went on, you could feel things returning to normal, you started to feel joy again.

When Aaron first broke things off, you were sure you’d never heal. You were certain that he’d been the one, but after one month, you started to move on. You had started going out with your friends again. You had allowed yourself to be open to meeting someone new because things were good, and you were happy. You could return the smile of the handsome stranger at the supermarket because it no longer riddled you with guilt. Instead, that smile sparked something inside you, hope.

One month had been good for you, and after two, you felt alright, truly. Every once in a while something would come up and your thoughts would return to Aaron, but it was happening less and less. For that you were thankful. Your friends had set you up with someone and the date had gone well, he was nice enough and he made you laugh. So, when he asked you out on a second date, you didn’t hesitate to agree.

Then three months in, he was off your mind. Aaron hadn’t crossed your mind in quite a while. You felt good and things with this new guy were going pretty well, you weren’t sure if anything serious would come of it, but honestly you didn’t care. It was nice to be dating again and to have someone who was around. 

 And month four and five, you were living your life, you were better and didn't have to try not to think of Aaron. You had just moved to a new apartment and gotten a promotion at your job; the pieces were finally falling into place. You felt good about things and tonight wouldn’t be any different.

Your friends were throwing you a sort of housewarming/congratulations dinner party! You had put on your favorite outfit while they set the table beautifully and waited for the rest of your guests to arrive.

The night went on full of laughter and so much love. You were so grateful to be surrounded by so many people who cared about you and who celebrated your success with you. The group of you were a few bottles of wine in when a ping from your phone caught your attention. The notification had stolen the breath from your lungs.

You had been fine. Great even, that is, up until now…'til he reached out and said, "Remember that night?". You didn’t need any further explanation; you knew exactly what night he was referring to. It had been pretty early on in your relationship, Aaron had gotten home late from a case and you went for a drive, 2:30 in the morning he kissed you, it was pouring.  You held each other tight, before the night was over he looked over his shoulder. You had known exactly what he needed, and you hadn’t hesitated. That night you had climbed into the backseat of his SUV and let him have his way with you. It had been clear he needed to let off some steam and who were you to deny him. You’d never forget that night…but you hadn’t thought of it in a while.

Your friend had immediately seen the shift in your mood and gestured for you to go with them to the kitchen. Gently grabbing your arm to guide you there.

“Babe, are you okay?” They asked.

“Oh, I was doing fine until he said, “Remember that night?”.  “Remember that night?" are you kidding me? I haven’t seen him or heard from him in five months, and he texts me that? That’s so fucked. I was finally moved on, hadn’t even thought about him. Oh, I was doing fine he said, "Remember that night? Remember that night?".” You couldn’t help but wave your hands around as you explained the situation to your friend.

“Are you kidding me? Babe do not reply to him, he’s not worth it. Did you want me to stay with you tonight?” Your friend offered.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself in hope of finding some sort of comfort. Your friend wrapped you in a hug and made their way outside to start cleaning up and hinting to the rest of your friends it was time for them to go.

That night you hadn’t slept a wink. You tossed and turned, your thoughts racing through your mind, feeling completely unsure of how to proceed. The day after he had reached out you were broken for the second time around. You barely made your way to the couch, thankful that you had the weekend to sulk before needing to return to work on Monday. You prayed on the third day that you would be okay, that you'd forget he was ever yours.

You felt so frustrated with Aaron, how could he be so inconsiderate. To text you after all this time and ask you about a night you shared together. He broke up with you, he broke your heart. The more you sat with it, you started to think; “Oh, I don't think you realize How long I had to fight to be living my life To be better and never have to try Not to think of you until you reached out And said, "Remember that night?" We went for a drive, 2:30 in the morning I kissed you, it was pouring We held each other tight before the night was over You looked over your shoulder Oh, I was doing fine You said, "Remember that night? Remember that night?".” Aaron was probably reaching out because he was thinking about himself and how he was feeling, and not how his actions would affect you, which had been a constant issue in your relationship. As much as you wanted to reply to him, you decided against it, but that didn’t stop the memories from flooding your brain. As much as you didn’t want to, you definitely did, remember that night.

[maximoffslilwitchintraining]

Mommy... I mean Wanda 

Part 11👀

Series here: 🎃

Word count: 1k ish i didnt look too close tbh

Summary: i barely remember what i wrote, but theres some smut, some cuddles, some sexting... oh and yelena 🫰🏻which always makes a story better

Do yall have any suggestions for future chapters or yk one shots 👀 just send me a request 😚

Cause frankly this series is getting long and completely lacks plot 😎ahahha help😥

To say you and Wanda got punished for your bratty behaviour would not do it justice.

By the time morning rolled around you were a needy mess. With tears rolling down your cheeks and a bruised ass, you lay begging for a release she was dead set on not giving you. Wanda on the other hand was being refused any touch at all. Which in your opinion may just be worse. Natty may be a cuddly teddy bear with the two of you but when she wants you to suffer she shows no mercy.

You lay cuddled up to Wanda as Nat was off making you all some coffee, trying your hardest to follow her orders of  “keeping it in your pants” while she’s gone. You assumed it wouldn’t hurt for your hand to sneak under Wanda's t-shirt, simply wanting to feel the warmth of her skin. However, with how frustrated she was at this point when your hand rested on her stomach she let out a moan. A moan you were certain Nat would’ve heard from the kitchen. When she returned she held two steaming cups of coffee and one of tea. She also held a smirk that said she knew but would be letting it slip just this once. If you’d known that you would have gone for Wanda’s boobs instead. For a while, you simply sat there enjoying your hot beverage between your girlfriends, just soaking it all in.

That bliss was only interupted when an alarm went off on your phone.

“UGh just turn it off” you grunted slipping further down and into the sheets. Nat obliged and reached for the phone, being the one closest to it. Once the alarm went quiet she sat still looking at it.

“Baby, why does it say you have class in 30 min?” Nat asked turning back to you.

“It’s fine I can skip this one.”

“Not a chance, come on get dressed.” Wanda grabbed your cup putting it on the nightstand.

“ I really don't want to leaveee” Yes you sounded like a child whining like that, but there was no way you’d leave this bed, to go and listen to some boring lecture.

“Y/N behave. I know it's hard but how about we pick you up after class and go do something fun?” 

Nat pulled you out of bed, giggling at how your legs were all wobbly still.

“Aww, poor baby, did daddy leave you all fucked out?” You felt yourself getting needy at those words, you just wished she’d bend you over right there and not stop pounding you til you came all over her strap. But instead, you were left walking on shaky legs and wincing as you pulled your jeans over your very sore butt. Which the two women found very amusing as they watched comfortably from the shared bed.

“Can I at least get a kiss before I leave?” You said with a pout. Nat simply gestured for you to come over. She gave you a soft kiss before Wanda pulled you into her arms. She kisses you deeply, ending with a peck on your cheek, that leaves you wishing for much more.

“Now go be my good girl and study hard yeah?” You nodded gleefully at that. Wandas praise washing away some of your grumpiness.

You rode on that happiness all the way to Yelena's car. Thankfully she was also late.

“So how come you were around here so early?” Yelena usually spent most of her time on campus in your shared flat. 

“Mmm, I may have stayed at Kate’s place last night.” She mumbled keeping her eyes on the road.

“Oh my god, Yelena!” A big grin appeared on the blonde's face and that was honestly all you needed.

“So tell me?! How’d it go? Did you… you know?” 

“ Y/N!” She blushed. You laughed knowing that was a yes. 

“So does this mean we can go on double dates now?” You said as the car came to a stop in the university parking lot.

“And watch you drool over my sister for an hour? No thanks.” 

The class dragged on and although you attempted to take notes, you spent most of your time squirming to find a comfortable position to sit in. About an hour in,  the class was doing discussions and you saw it as a chance to sneak out for a quick break. You locked yourself in the bathroom and pulled out your phone.

Y/N: on a quick bathroom break, I’m assuming you’re still in bed?

Nat:( sent you an image)

You could not have opened it faster. It was a photo of the two, Wanda's shirt long gone and her breasts in full view. Your eyes take in the sight of your mommy's body. Her legs were spread and Nat's hand was inside her shorts. You so badly wanted to remove them. to see every movement of her fingers as they pleasured Wandas pussy.

Nat: are you alone?

Y/N: yes x

Nat: Mommy and Daddy would love to see how wet you get just thinking about what we’re doing

Wanda: Please baby be a good girl and show us

You thought about it for a second before pulling your jeans down and taking a short video of you running your fingers through your folds, showing just how much you needed them.

Wanda: such a good girl. why don't rub your clit for Mommy? 

You do as you are told and start touching yourself. just in time for another message to arrive, this time a video. Nat is holding the phone and is showing you a close-up of Wanda as she slowly sinks down on Nat's strap. you could honestly come just at the sight of that. 

Nat: Make daddy proud and cum for us baby girl 

A couple more brushes over your clit and the sound of Wanda moaning paired with wet noises of her pussy being slammed down on nats cock and you finally came. Shaking with pleasure after the amount of teasing you had endured. Once you are able to breathe normally, you pick up the phone to send them a text.

Y/N: I may have made a mess all over my jeans

Wanda: oh poor baby, did mommy getting fucked make you all stupid? No worries honey we’ll come to get you and how about you let Mommy clean up all that wetness on the way home? I’m dying to have a taste ;)

[straightupsickfics]

best friends, ex-friends til the end | royjamie

(better off as lovers)

this is definitely something that i wrote to get out of my own head after thinking about it literally since the show ended.. but maybe someone else will enjoy a little (~2.1k words) sick jamie + reluctantly caring roy kent <3

Sicktember Prompt #2: “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?”

Jamie really doesn’t think anything of it when most of the lads (...and Ted, Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins) are all out with some kind of mysterious cold throughout the early fall. He felt bad for them, yeah, course, offered to bring Colin and Isaac and Dani soup, even. But it didn’t occur to him that he should be, like, “worried about germs,” or whatever. 

Jamie Tartt never gets sick. 

Like, ever. 

He has an unbeatable immune system, and, according to his mum, he always has. Not that any of his ill teammates seem particularly interested in hearing about that particular fact when he shares it on one of his soup drop offs. Isaac had actually told him to “fuck off outta here with that gloating,” while Colin cough-laughed beside him. 

Well, fine. Jamie knows when he isn’t wanted. He leaves, confident they’d be fine in a few days, no doubt thanks to the soup he’d left them. Then, they can all make their way back to normal on the pitch. The whole dynamic’s been off for weeks with everyone being taken out one by one by this thing, and Jamie’s getting sick of it. He needs everyone there to really dominate the way he’s used to, even if it means he has be “a bit of a fucking prick about it.” (Roy’s words). 

It turns out, all of that ass crack of dawn training is paying off after all. Like, really paying off — Jamie is better and faster than ever now, all thanks to his supreme commitment to the game, and his unmatched talent. 

And Roy’s training. 

Okay, mostly Roy’s training, but he wouldn’t be admitting that much out loud without more than a few pints in him. And since Roy isn’t letting him drink at the moment, Jamie figures he’s in the clear. 

So, yeah, Jamie Tartt’s life is fucking mint as of late. 

Now, leaving Isaac and Colin’s, he looks down at his phone and finds a message from Roy himself, think of the devil. 

Granddad: McAdoo just said you’d been by… WTF are you thinking?? You want to lose a week with whatever fucking bubonic plague’s going around the club???

Jamie: Christ, do you get tired of yelling at me, old man? It’s FINE. Jamie Tartt don’t CATCH the plague 

Granddad: 🙄 If you say so, but don’t come crying to me when you’re laid up in bed you absolute muppet. Get some sleep, I’ll see you at 4:00 AM. 

Jamie: Be there with bells on ♥️

*

The next few days go by in a blur of training, post-training FIFA with Roy, and sleep. He’s been feeling knocked on his ass every night this week, overtired and exhausted in a way he usually isn’t, thanks to Roy’s brutal workout regime, but he can hardly complain with the way he’s been playing. He’s been getting home late most nights, too, always a little reluctant to leave Roy’s and go home to his own empty flat. 

It’s not like Roy seems to mind either, though. He’s been making them dinners almost every night, after all. Or, well, he makes dinner and sets out two plates and doesn’t tell Jamie to get lost, which is basically the same thing, right? It’s nice, having some company. Having Roy for company, has become something he never knew he needed. 

Or maybe he just never let himself even think about asking for it. 

After one such night, Jamie showers and climbs into his bed (empty, always empty, these days, something a former version of himself would never believe let alone enjoy). He thinks about Roy. Thinks, tiredly, how nice it might be if Roy were here now, and then shakes the thought away. Since when does he think about Roy Kent in bed? 

(Since always, he’s had a poster of him over his bed since he was thirteen.) 

Thoughts of Roy are replaced with thoughts about water. His throat’s been dry all day, and a glass of water sounds killer right now, but Jamie’s asleep before he can do anything about it. 

*

Jamie wakes up to something jackhammering. 

No, not jackhammering. It’s his phone, vibrating on his nightstand. 

Fuck, why is it so loud? He pulls himself up to look at it, but he feels like he’s been him by a ton of bricks. Bad idea. He feels like utter shite if he’s honest, like he got hit by a truck in his sleep. His head’s pounding, for one thing, he can’t even think straight, and the dry, scratchy throat from last night has grown into a monster of a sore throat. Plus, he feels sweaty all over. 

Shit.

Roy was going to kill him. 

Shit. Roy. Their training. It’s that thought that gets Jamie into an upright position, at least enough so that he can grab his phone before laying back down with it. There are five missed calls from Granddad, and a handful of texts and other notifications that Jamie ignores for now. 

Somewhere in his scrolling, it hits Jamie that the sun is coming in through his window. It’s almost 8:00 in the morning, and he’s completely missed their training. He’d slept through his alarm, missing the training with Roy, and, judging by how entirely fucked he feels, would likely miss the team training today, too. 

Jamie swallows and winces. His throat feels like he’s swallowing burning knives, but he calls Roy back anyway. 

Roy answers on the first ring, and by some act of Jesus Christ himself, doesn’t sound pissed off. 

“What the fuck, Tartt, are you alright” 

No, he definitely doesn’t sound mad, he sounds… concerned. 

“Mm? Yeah, grand.” Jamie tries to sound relaxed, but his voice sounds awful, hoarse and gravelly and blurred with congestion. 

“Fuuuuck,” is all Roy says for a minute. Then: “Let me in, I’m outside.” 

*

“So, what happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?” Roy says when Jamie finally makes his way to the front door and lets him in. 

Jamie tries to roll his eyes, but even that hurts his head. “First time for everything, yeah? What’re you doin’ here?” 

“You didn’t show up for almost four hours!” Roy explodes. “You weren’t answering your phone, no one had heard from you, I was—” Roy stops himself, looking at Jamie and then away, suddenly finding the cars in the driveway extremely interesting. 

“Aw, you were worried about me,” Jamie supplies. It would be much better if he could actually enjoy this moment, but as it is he feels like he could collapse at any moment, so he holds onto the cool granite of his kitchen island. 

“Fuck off,” Roy growls. 

“You came to me in me hour of need,” Jamie says, then turns to the side and coughs, ruining the moment. 

“To be fair I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere, had to make sure I didn’t need to see about finding a replacement.” 

“I’m irreplaceable, hello? There’s no replacing an icon.” Not that he feels like much of an icon now, with his nose starting to run and an annoying itch starting to form somewhere behind his sinuses. He scrubs a hand over his face, wishing Roy was here in his flat on literally any other morning. 

“Muppet,” Roy says, shaking his head and studying him in a way that always makes Jamie feel all squirmy inside. 

“S-shit, gimme me a second,” Jamie says, breath catching as he turns away and sneezes four times in quick succession. “Hh’itsh! Hpt-ISH! Uh-hu’ishhiew! IshhIEW!” 

“Were those sneezes? Y’sound like Phoebe’s cat when she sneezes.” 

Jamie just groans, turns around, and flops onto the couch. He doesn’t even have the energy to argue with Roy, and he loves arguing with Roy. 

“Bless you, by the way,” Roy says, voice just marginally softer as he follows Jamie to the living room. 

“Sorry I missed training,” Jamie says, voice half lost to the pillow he’s currently trying to disappear into. “Y’can find a new way to punish me for it next week, m’sure.” 

Roy’s quiet for a minute. “Think you get a pass. Team spirit, lookin’ out for the lads when they needed it and all.” 

Jamie lifts his head up, arches an eyebrow. “Thought you said don’t come cryin’ to ya?”

“I came to you, didn’t I?” 

“‘Cause you were worried about me,” Jamie says, smiling despite how bad, well, everything feels just now. 

Roy’s here. Jamie’s flat feels warmer with another person here, which helps, since he’s freezing on top of everything else. 

“Do you have any tea in this place?” Is all Roy says in reply. He’s already back in the kitchen, navigating around Jamie’s cupboards like he lives there, and Jamie’s thinking how nice it all is when he falls asleep again, right there on the couch. 

*

When he wakes up again, Roy is still there, Jamie’s feet in his lap, and it’s much later in the day, he can tell immediately. He must be so sick he’s hallucinating, because there’s no way Roy Kent came over to watch him sleep, covered him with a blanket, and is watching You’ve Got Mail on his TV. 

“Ah, you’re alive. I was starting to think I should call someone,” Roy says when Jamie stirs. “You look like shit. Take that,” Roy continues, pointing to a bottle of something and a glass of water on the coffee table. 

Jamie feels, impossibly, worse than he had this morning, his head feels like it weighs about a million pounds. He doesn’t argue, just swallows the medicine and water and grimaces at Roy.

“Didn’t have to stay here,” Jamie says. His voice is wrecked. 

“Fuck, you sound fucking awful,” Roy says, his hand on Jamie’s ankle — how long had that been there? He moves his thumb up and back absentmindedly, and suddenly it’s all Jamie can focus on. 

What is happening?

“Well, never drank that tea you were on about earlier,” Jamie says.

Roy nods. “Never do want to listen to me,” he says, but his voice is different now, softer. Kinder. Fonder.

“Took the liberty of ordering a takeaway, should be here soon. Soup for you,” Roy says. His hand is still there, warm on Jamie’s ankle. 

“huh-IItshh! IishhIEW!” The sneezes catch Jamie completely off guard, shivering out of him before he can do anything but lean into it. “Sorry,” he mutters, sniffling. He looks pathetic, he knows that, and he’s torn between elation that Roy’s here and complete humiliation. “You’ll be down with this next,” he warns.

“Bless you. Y’really do sneeze like a cat, Tartt.” 

Jamie’s laugh turns into another coughing fit, and when Roy leans up to rub his back, he decides that happiness wins out over embarrassment. 

They’re side by side now, closer than they’d usually sit for FIFA, though not by much. They’d been getting closer in just about every way these last few months, and Jamie realizes he’d like nothing more than to lean into it. Let Roy deal with all of it in that growly, take-charge way he has about everything else. He’d feel better soon if Roy said so, right? 

“Food should be here soon, if you want to close your eyes for a few more minutes. This prick hasn’t put Meg Ryan out of business yet, so…” Roy trails off, eyes trained on the screen rather than Jamie, who nods. His eyes and head are still so heavy. 

Daring a look at Roy out of the corner of his eye, Jamie lets his head rest on his shoulder, sniffling into the soft fabric of Roy’s ubiquitous black t-shirt and yawning. He could get used to this, if he let himself. Whatever this is…

“You’re thinking really fucking loudly,” Roy says, voice impossibly close to his ear. He doesn’t sound mad about it, though, more like amused. Jamie’s still half convinced he’s dreaming this entire day. Jamie Tartt doesn’t get sick, for one thing, and Roy Kent doesn’t play nurse with his players. “Close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only to stop your yelling, Granddad,” Jamie says with another yawn. He doesn’t lift his head from Roy’s shoulder, and Roy doesn’t say anything else, just turns his attention back to the movie.

Jamie’s ninety-nine percent asleep when he feels it, the faintest, softest brush of lips against his sweaty forehead. 

Maybe this is something after all. 

Maybe Roy Kent does play nurse when it matters. 

And maybe Jamie Tartt does get sick, though he decides then and there that it’s not too bad if this is what he gets in return. Pretty fucking mint, in fact. 

[mintys-musings]

Rinne Amagi x Anzu x Madara Mikejima - Work Place Bonding Exercise

Happy birthday to Rinne Amagi~ hehe being self indulgent here- Held off from posting this little present on just Madara’s bday bc it involves the two of them. it's not techincally his bday everywhere currently but it is in my area. so... 💚 love my taurus men

(also i wrote this at midnight and didn't proofread so glhf im just copy pasting it from my doc into here)

Summary: Madara comes back after a month working overseas only to find Anzu has become rather close to a certain boisterous bee. (aka: Anzu Ensemble Stars thanks the heavens above for giving her two men to fuck her) Tags: slight jealousy, threesome, size kink, spitroasting, deepthroating, face fucking, degradation, praise, dacryphilia, mild mind break, office sex, squirting, unprotected sex, breeding/impreg mention (because im predictable), top!Madara Mikejima, top!Rinne Amagi, bottom!Anzu Ensemble Stars Word Count: 1399

NSFW under cut~

Madara wondered if this situation would still have happened if he was here the entire month instead of overseas. If he could just have Anzu all to himself instead of “sharing” with this loudmouthed asshole named Rinne Amagi. A small grunt escaped his lips as he roughly thrusted in and out of his precious producer. Her cries of pleasure are muffled by the cock filling her mouth.

It was after hours in the ES building. The only reason any of them were there was because of Anzu. Not because she needed help with anything. But because the two men couldn’t possibly leave her side while she works late. Madara couldn’t leave her alone with Rinne, and Rinne wouldn’t leave just to piss Madara off. Anzu was not about to let them start arguing, but tensions rose and-

“Kyaha~ You look fucking pathetic gaggin’ on my dick like that. Is it too big for you, producer~?” Rinne grabbed Anzu by the hair and moved her head up and down as he pleased. The lewd gags and gurgling noises were her only response.

Madara scowled at the way Rinne was treating Anzu like some toy. But truthfully, if he could see her face, he’d see the glassy, brainless look in her teary eyes- Just pure submission to being used by the two large men. Whether Rinne was happy about sharing was yet to be seen. 

“So hot~ Ya make a better whore than a producer. Can’t wait ‘til I get to fill that cute pussy of yours.” Rinne’s eyes flickered to Madara with a wicked smirk on his face. “‘Course I gotta wait for this guy to finish. Lost prize to go first when you moaned his name before mine.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Madara’s words came out in a frustrated groan. Anzu tightened up with each comment. His hands moved to spread her cheeks a little so he could see her pussy swallowing his cock, the base slightly glistening with wetness under the fluorescent light. “Fuck- Anzu- You’re taking me so well. Mama’s so proud of you~” He still took the time to praise her as he pulled her hips back against his.

Anzu let out a muffled squeal, nails digging into Rinne’s thighs as Madara got rougher in order to get more reactions out of her. If he wasn’t so focused on Anzu, he’d see the deep frown that formed on the redhead’s face as her attention was pulled away for even a second. Tears streamed down her face as she tried her best to breathe. Madara’s dick was reaching every sensitive part inside her with every thrust.

“Does it feel good, princess?” The hand that wasn’t holding her up by the waist moved down. His fingers rubbed expertly at her clit and her knees buckled slightly from trembling.

Rinne, not one to be left out, shoved Anzu’s head down onto his dick further. He could see the tears and it just made him throb even more. “C’mon, slut,” he growled. “Mama’s spoiling you too much. Ya gotta work a bit for me.”

“I’m not spoiling her.” Madara huffed, “Even if I was, she’s cute. So she deserves special treatment.”

“Yeah. Real fuckin’ cute, but she’d look cuter with cum all over her.”

Anzu did not mean to moan as delightedly as she did at the comment, but it sent shivers down Rinne’s spine as she slobbered all over him. He pulled her up by the hair in a moment of mercy so she could breathe. As soon as he did, whines and whimpers were added to the sounds coming from the three of them. She mouthed and kissed noisily along his dick, panting as she did so. “God- You’re too good at this. You were made to take cock, weren’t you?” Rinne was practically drooling at the sight himself, gripping the table he was leaning against for support.

“Only for you two~” Anzu purred, words slurred and slightly delirious. As she pumped his cock, she marveled at how small her hand looked wrapped around it. There was already a thick cock in her pussy splitting her in two. So the thought of having to take another was sending her mind into a tizzy. Even more so when she imagined having to take both at once.

Rinne groaned, gripping her hair to steady her.

“Open.”

As soon as she did as asked, Rinne shoved her head down onto him once more. Neither of the men were coordinating their thrust. They just kept going at it to fulfill their own selfish pleasure. Madara less so, but either way it meant that there was barely a moment when the producer wasn’t being filled by someone. And she loved it. Being used so thoroughly by both someone with no qualms in roughing her up and someone who took care to not hurt her in any way- Heavenly. Not to mention the fact both of these men were much larger and muscular. Being manhandled by one was already a dream. So to have both of them do so made her lose any sense of shame or control. She would be good for them alone so long as they continued to pleasure her like this.

With Anzu focused on the task at hand, Rinne didn’t last much longer. Her mouth was just too good. She was too good. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she practiced. He would later find out that she maybe did. He pulled her up by the hair once more, free hand moving to jack himself off. With a groan, he blew his load all over her face and chest, decorating her skin with his cum. Some of it got on her tongue and she swallowed like the good girl she was. But most of it dripped down her cheeks and the corners of her lips with some splattering down onto her breast. She giggled happily, sucking lightly on his softening cock as Rinne stroked her hair.

Madara gave a deep thrust- enough to make Anzu lurch forward slightly. “Don’t forget about me here, princess.” He grabbed both of her forearms to pull behind her back, making her stand up slightly. “Mama’s almost done.”

He leaned forward to nip at her earlobe. “Mama’s going to fill your pussy with his cum~ You want that, right princess? You want Mama’s hot, sticky cum inside of you?”

Anzu nodded dumbly, moans tumbling out of her mouth. “Please~” She begged, moving her hips in time with him as best she could. Her toes curled as she felt a familiar knot form in her abdomen. “I want it~ I want it so badly~”

A hand moved to her jaw, moving her head so she’d look back slightly. Just enough so Madara could kiss her and shove his tongue into her mouth.

Rinne let out a low whistle as he slowly stroked himself to the sight. Of course, he wouldn’t just remain a passive watcher. His mouth latched onto one of Anzu’s nipples while his free hand pinched and tugged at the other, eliciting another delicious moan out of the producer.

Anzu couldn’t take it anymore. Surprising even her, she felt a spike of pleasure shoot through her as she squirted around Madara’s cock. She could very faintly hear both men curse in awe at the display of her trembling, small frame. It barely registered in her fucked out brain that they both stopped their actions to watch the liquid dribble out of her pussy. Though it definitely did register when they started again.

Madara shoved two fingers into her mouth as he pounded into her with a new vigor. Rinne squeezed and sucked her breasts hungrily, his cock now hard all over again. The two men managed to work her into another orgasm all over again before Madara snapped his hips to hers one final time. 

His tip was practically against her cervix as he came, painting her insides white. He moaned as he thrusted slowly a few more times before pulling out. “Good job, princess,” he mumbled, kissing her shoulder.

Anzu whined into the air as she was spun around and shoved towards Rinne. Impatient and horny, Rinne pressed his tip up to her leaking cunt. “Let’s mix my cum into you too~ I wanna see what kind of kid pops out later after we're done with ya…”

[moveslikebucky]

Oh no it’s time for me to post my season 2 thoughts that nobody asked for!

Under the cut because obviously spoilers. Not a very long post tho I’m not going into extreme detail here.

OK SO first off let me preface, as someone who mainly writes book omens content, I think it will be shocking when I say I genuinely loved everything about this season.

It took me a couple of days to digest and figure out my thoughts aside from that absolute GUT WRENCHING ending Jesus Christ but here’s the thing a lot of others have said too but in my goofy way of saying it.

This is 1980. We all just watched Han Solo get frozen in carbonite, watched Luke get his hand chopped off and find out the man he’s sworn to destroy to save the galaxy is his father, watched everyone be at their absolute lowest and then the credits roll and the familiar and beloved theme song plays and we’re sitting in the theater going ??????????

And we don’t get Return of the Jedi til 1983.

And we’ll all be fine and so will they, the triumph happens in the end, wouldn’t be a good story otherwise.

I have many nebulous thoughts but the main thing is I have been seeing a lot of people saying that our boys are completely OOC or somewhat OOC for the entire season or at least for that last 15 minutes or so.

And here is where I say something shocking again!

I don’t think they are at all, whether you’re looking at TV characterizations OR the original book ones.

Hear me out don’t get your pitchforks on me just yet.

In the novel, their character arcs are completed because it was always meant to be a fully stand alone novel. At the end of the book there is a full acceptance between the two of them and they actually talk to each other in a meaningful way but CRUCIALLY, a thing that was missing from the tv season, I think is where specifically they diverge.

In the book, when Aziraphale possesses the televangelist, and goes off the rails completely - that is showing in unequivocal terms that Aziraphale is rejecting Heavens dogma. He’s on the same page as Crowley now, and they stay on the same page through the end of the novel.

Neil knew, because it was what Terry wanted, that he was going to have to do the sequel they never did. The sequel that didn’t exist when they wrote the first novel.

Speaking as a writer, even knowing that Patton Oswalt was originally on board to play the televangelist, I feel like leaving that scene out was a very specific way to set up for what we have now.

Aziraphale ends season 1 ambiguously. If you had read the book you can take it as “hell yea they’re on the same page now!” And it’s a perfectly valid reading.

But…

You don’t have to. It’s not implicit. They’re still not really talking about things, just around them. Aziraphale is still shocked when Crowley thinks everyone will come after Earth, still has panic in his eyes until Crowley distracts him. Crucially, Crowley does not tell him what happened in heaven. He only listens to Aziraphale dither on about towels and rubber ducks.

Aziraphale had not broken fully free from his cult.

They’re leaving him alone but his bookshop is still and embassy. He’s still with them, in some small way.

I don’t think the metatron brainwashed him with a miracle (or that he’s been kicking about in reality). He didn’t need to do that when simple manipulation is all that it takes.

Show up and make the people who are mean to him look stupid, compliment Crowley and Muriel who he likes, extract him from his support system, make it seem urgent make it seem just this side of too good to be true of an offer.

The metatron has heard first hand just how much Aziraphale wants to change things, how he wants to do what’s right instead of what is Right™️.

He gives Aziraphale everything he thinks he wants right on a silver platter, including a way to protect Crowley.

Aziraphale accepting that offer is completely in character because, crucially, he is not at the same place in his character arc as he was in the book.

But the thing is, Crowley isn’t either.

Crowley is withholding EXTREMELY vital information from Aziraphale still for his “protection”.

Information that would’ve bolstered Aziraphale to not take that offer, really. Because these boys don’t talk.

I don’t have as much to say about Crowley here, his arc is also not at the same place as in the end of the book, but I see more people mad about Aziraphale’s so that’s what I wanted to address.

Anyway I loved it, and if u have read this far, thank you! Plz don’t leave a bunch of negativity in the replies here, feel free to disagree, but this is a thing I consume for fun and I don’t want to discourse about it I’m just posting my opinion.

[riv-kaulitz]

my fucking brother?!

tom&bill kaulitz x reader

a/n (before writing): this is my first post on here and i wrote it with my sister ( @weepingtheoristflower ) we basically share one braincell between both of us so i apologize if it doesn’t make sense or if there spelling/grammar issues bc we’re dumb.

a/n (after writing): this is probably the longest thing i’ve ever written. i might have missed some warnings so if you think i should add more lmk. and i’m probably making a part 2.

warnings: cheating (kind of but not really), threesome (with siblings, no incest they don’t touch each other at all), yelling, fingering, p in v, oral (m! and f! receiving), basically they go to paris. lmk if i missed any

summary: basically bill likes y/n, but tom and y/n are dating. tom goes to the store and bill shoots his shot, telling y/n how he feels which leads to some interesting activities. let’s just say they did not finish before tom got back.

(disclaimer: obviously this is fictional and you probably shouldn’t cheat on your bf with his brother. and obviously bill wouldn’t do something like this.)

“bye babe, love you” tom said grabbing his keys and kissing y/n goodbye.

“bye tom” she smiles at him

tom leaves and a few minutes later bill knocks on tom and y/n’s door. y/n gets up to answer “oh hey bill” she says and walks back over to her and toms bed, sitting down and making room for bill.

bill sits next to her “y/n… can i talk to you about something?”

“of course” y/n says and looks at bill

“ok… just… you have to promise not to hate me…” he says nervously.

“what? why would i hate you?” y/n tilts her head slightly in confusion.

bill looks away slightly embarrassed. “i just… i know it’s selfish… i just can’t help it… i’m sorry” he says quietly, tears forming in his eyes.

“hey… what’s selfish..?” y/n asks softly, gently putting her hand on top of his.

“i like you y/n… so much… and seeing you with tom… it hurts so much…” he says, still talking quietly, his voice wavering slightly.

“bill… i… don’t know what to say…” y/n says softly, trying not to show how shocked she is and make him more upset.

bill hesitates a second before leaning in and kissing y/n softly on the lips, before he can pull away and apologize y/n gently grabs his face and kisses him back.

their hands wander around eachothers bodies, exploring the new territory between them. after a few minutes bill pulls y/ns shirt over her head, then pulls his shirt off too. thier hands explore the newly exposed skin as bill reaches to unhook her bra.

“you’re so pretty y/n” he mumbles and kisses down her neck, his hands moving to her waist to press his body against hers.

he reaches to undo her pants and underwear, pulling them down slowly. she gasps at the cold air but it quickly turns into a moan when he starts rubbing her clit softly.

“so so pretty…” he mumbles, going to kiss and nip along her neck, careful not to leave any marks.

she moans quietly and he moves his fingers down slightly to push two fingers in her slowly. he kisses her again, moving his fingers in and out slowly. he pushes her down on the bed lightly and kisses down her body til he gets to her thigh, he looks up at her for permission.

she nods. “please bill…” she moans quietly.

he quickly attaches his mouth to her clit, sucking lightly and pushing his fingers back in her again. they both get lost in the feeling and the both of their sounds.

too lost in the feeling to hear the front door open.

tom pov

i walk in the door, shutting it behind me. i put my stuff from the store on the table and lock the door quickly.

i hear something coming from the bedroom. moaning..?

“b-bill… i-i’m gonna…” i hear y/n moan and my heart drops and my fists clench. i quickly walk over to the room and open the door.

“seriously?! with my fucking brother? of all people?” i yell “and my girlfriend?”

the both quickly sit up, bill wiping his mouth and y/n covering herself. i just stand there waiting for an answer.

“tom.. it’s not wh-“ y/n stutters out.

“not what it looks like? don’t fucking tell me it’s not what it looks like.” i yell.

“tom don’t..” bill starts

“don’t what? i just walk in on you going down on my girlfriend and you don’t expect me to yell?” i yell, my fists clenching tighter.

“don’t yell at her..” bill says. “it’s.. my fault.. i should’ve… i just couldn’t help it…” bill tries to explain.

“you couldn’t help it?! what sleeping with my girlfriend?!”

“i’m sorry tom…” bill says quietly.

“sorry?! you seriously think sorry is gonna fix this?”

“i don’t know i just..” bill says before i cut him off.

“you don’t know? you know exactly what you did. i can’t believe either of you would do this to me… i mean seriously… you know how much i love her…” i say to bill, still pissed but not yelling anymore.

“ok well i love her too!” bill yells

“you do..?” y/n asks quietly but he doesn’t answer her.

i laugh slightly. “no you don’t”

“yes i do… i always have.” bill admits. “do you understand how much that shit hurts? seeing you with her?”

“so you hurt me back by sleeping with her?” i ask, looking at him confused.

“no… i just… i couldn’t keep it a secret anymore and… it just happened…” bill says

“seriously? it just happened?” i ask, my voice raising again

“tom please… don’t yell…” y/n says “he kissed me and i should’ve stopped him… i’m sorry”

i look over at her. “why didn’t you?” i ask, and when she hesitates to respond i feel my heart drop again and my voice raises again. “don’t tell me you like him too!”

“i love you tom…” she says “i know that… i don’t know how i feel about him…”

“prove it.” i say, my voice slightly deeper.

y/n pov

“prove what..?” i ask as tom walks over to me.

“prove it.” he says sitting in front of me. ignoring bill sitting next to me, he pushes me down on the bed kinda roughly. “show him i can make you feel better.”

“tom… i…” i start.

“if you’re really uncomfortable you can tell me to stop you know” he says, as max as he is he won’t do anything im uncomfortable with.

when i shake my head no he quickly puts two fingers in me and starts sucking on my clit. i moans loudly and my hands immediately go to his hair. “hands to yourself” he groans and keeps going.

he moans softly but i grab onto the sheets instead. “sh-shit tom.. i’m gonna..” moan and he stops. i whine in protest but he just moves me so i’m on all fours, tom behind me and bill in front of me. he quickly pulls his pants down and enters me. i gasp loudly and moan.

he starts thrusting fast, giving me no time to adjust. “go ahead baby,” tom says “you were having so much fun with him earlier why don’t you help him out?”

i look up at bill hesitantly and when he nods i undo his pants, and quickly wrap my hand around him, moving it up and down slowly.

bill let’s put cute little noises as he bites his lip trying to stay as quiet as possible.

“good girl, mein hübsches mädchen” (my pretty girl <at least according to google translate i don’t speak german😭>) tom groans softly.

i moan quietly causing bill to buck his hips into my mouth. he taps my arm lightly “y-y/n i-i’m” bill says before finishing in my mouth. i swallow and moan again. “t-tom… i-i’m gonna cum too..” i say

“come on… me too..” tom says and picks up the pace, both of us finishing together. we all catch our breath and get dressed.

tom turns to bill “next time you wanna pull some shit like that, i’ll kill you.”

[multi-fandom-peep]

asking about a headcanon you made! i have no clue if you're still here but uhh ig i'll just leave this here til you get back :P

why? (tumblr's not letting me link for some reason so i'm just gonna copy paste what you wrote)

"Kalo’s nickname in the heroes group chat was originally Weapon, but it eventually changed to Moron. (Not that he liked the original any better)"

Hi! Still on Tumblr, but I don’t have much to post nowadays so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Both nicknames came from Careful. He just called Kalo a weapon one day, and the other heroes thought it was funny enough that they never let him forget it, so naturally, it’s his group chat nickname.

The next name is from season ten, so spoilers!

You know how throughout season ten, Kalo is trying to get Careful’s attention by making things fall onto the floor and then projecting the number 4451 to him?

Well you know how stupid that is?

Okay, so pretend you have some life-or-death information that you need to tell someone, but you can only communicate via possessing machines. What would you do?

Obviously, you project the same number over and over!

Billboards and t.v.s Kalo! You know you can make them say almost anything you want? So why not “There is a machine threatening to destroy the planet”?? The antagonists might notice? Well they certainly noticed the number 4451, so it wouldn’t make much difference!! And you could’ve gotten it over with like three weeks earlier! Before they were ready!!

So upon realizing this, Careful promptly changed Kalo’s nickname, and it took the other heroes a couple hours of begging for him to explain why.

[northisnotup]

Damen's phone chimes just as he's narrowed down his choices between Galdiator, Spartan and some kind of demon costume that leaves his chest bare instead of his legs. Maybe they're not the smartest choices, given how chilly October nights tend to get - but it's not like the house party one of their lot will absolutely put together day-of is going to be cold, so.

The text so lovingly from his sweetheart is just 'come here.' No capital, with period.

'You first.'

'you usually make sure of that.'

Snorting, he types out 'Say the magic word.' Not because he expects any niceties, but because it's fun.

'now.'

Rolling his eyes, Damen winds his way back through the store, putting away his choices as he goes because despite appearances, he isn't actually stupid.

He finds Laurent in the fantasy and folklore section, surprisingly, looking at their couples costumes. He expected something more gruesome and tasteless, like a serial killer and victim. Or, killer and the crazed fan - last week Laurent was obsessed with the archived letters of a woman who devotedly wrote to and married a man on death row.

"Staking your claim?"

"I don't want you wandering off covered in scraps," Laurent says, sounding bored.

That he's looking at couples costumes at all says something, but Damen isn't confident as to what just yet. He looks at the actual packages instead, and scoffs. "Of course."

Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

With resignation, he reaches for the one with furry ears when Little Red hits him in the chest.

"You didn’t think you were the hunter in this relationship, did you?"

"Thought you'd take any opportunity to put me on a leash, actually," Damen says, distracted as he takes the details in. It's not bad -

"It's not any less skin then you usually show." Laurent says, echoing Damen's own thoughts in addition to subtly implying Damen is a slut. Classy. He usually just says it outright.

"You like it," Damen says.

Laurent doesn’t deny it, just sighs, a sound echoed by the woman who's showed up at the end of the isle, a jaunty pumpkin headband nestled in her redish curls and a nametag that identifies her as Trix.

"Would you like me to hold that for you at the til?" Trix' tone is reasonable enough but the supressed rage in her eyes tells Damen all he needs to know about how little time she has for them being where she needs to be.

"No thank you," Laurent smiles, and then cocks his head. "Although what is the return policy?"

"No refunds on opened products, exchange for 30 days or store credit," She replies promptly, and then gives them both an assessing glance. "You're going to want to go up another size, that line runs small."

"Thank you. Commission?"

She grimaces a little. "Staff recognition."

"Condolences."

Trix shrugs, "If Minnie at the front tries to upsell you with the sales, you can tell her I already told you about them. Puts me up for a raise."

"Done."

Damen, having been largely superfluous to this exchange and ignorant to its meaning, doesn't bother to ask for clarification, he just herds Laurent out the other end of the isle with a hand on his lower back, unblocking it ans letting the worker back to her sorting and restocking. Slender his sweetheart might look, but it's an illusion. Damen's been used to often being the biggest person in a room for years. Laurent only looks small next to Damen, something he uses to full advantage whenever he can.

Noting the Manager tag on their cashier, Laurent puts on his most effusive Happy Customer voice to tell Damen how satisfied he was with the help, describing her so that Trix' manager has to supply the name herself. It would be a neat trick if Damen hadn't seen it done a hundred times. He wouldn’t say he's used to Laurent’s abrupt turns of face when they're out, but he understands them, and that might be as close as he's going to get.

Good deed done, they take their bag and exit the corpse of what used to be a furniture supply store and was rebirthed in August as a Halloween supply store.