#had this idea floating around the last couple days

[gayroman]

YEAH I’M THE MYSTERY MAN THAT’S BEEN UNMASKED / ALEX TURNER AND DOUBLE LIVES

PART ONE: BIRTH OF THE DOUBLE LIFE

motion sickness, phoebe bridgers / big ideas, arctic monkeys / arctic monkeys in 2022 and the 2000s / star treatment live performance (gif by @alexturner)

PART TWO: LIVING THE DOUBLE LIFE 

the bourne identity, the last shadow puppets / four out of five music video (photo from @mrschwartz) / there is a lion in my living room, clementine von radics / everyone’s in love with you, david byrne / alex turner photographed by zackery michael / hiding tonight, alex turner for the submarine soundtrack / cassandra: a novel and four essays, christa wolf / the dream synopsis, the last shadow puppets / source / liquid smooth, mitski / four out of five & tranquility base hotel and casino music videos (gif by @bedlund​)

PART THREE: IS DESTROYING YOUR DOUBLE LIFE A SUICIDE OR CANNIBALISM?

the bourne identity, the last shadow puppets / fight club, directed by david fincher / cardigan, taylor swift / anyways, arctic monkeys / kokoro, natsume sōseki / the talented mr ripley, directed by anthony minghella / truly, madly, ripley, the guardian / cowboy like me, taylor swift / half-light, frank bidart / smother, daughter / you’re on your own kid, taylor swift / a game of thrones, george r.r. martin / don’t let me be lonely: an american lyric, claudia rankine / alex turner in the body paint music video 

CLICK AND ENLARGE FOR BETTER QUALITY 

[deadsetobsessions]

Edit: thank you @tetranationaltortoise for pointing out that the Red Spot is on Jupiter instead of Saturn! Fixed it! You’re not nickpicking, you’re providing very appreciated constructive criticism (and a basic fact check I should have done lol) <3

Danny, as usual, hadn’t meant to become the local cryptid. Local being extremely relative, as his locality in this instance is… space.

He just wanted to have some relaxation time. He just wanted to do some homework, chill on Mars or something, and then call it a day.

This hero business was taxing and Danny took his breaks when he could. Take that, work-life balance! Just kidding, Danny had no work-life balance. His life is a mess and he's overworked.

What was it that Superman had said in that one interview?

“Evil never sleeps."

Apparently, that also meant Danny never slept either.

“Hrk!” Danny snorted awake, looking around wildly at the vast expanse of space to see what woke him.

….

Yeah, that’ll do it.

In front of him, merrily floating through space, is the battered remains of what used to be an asteroid and a mecha that’s a weird combination of Gotham’s vigilante hero, Batman, and Metropolis’ Golden Boy, Superman.

The vibrations of the collision had shaken Danny awake.

Danny got up, baffled as hell and half asleep still. He floated to the giant Bat insignia tumbling around, inching closer as he saw the- oh hell, that’s so cool, it’s a plane!- cockpit and the passed out hero inside of it. Danny clicked his tongue, the sound swallowed by the lack of air.

He shoved the plane closer to earth, passing it to a bewildered (and both beat up and stressed out) Superman, who did a double take at the glowing green boy chucking him the Toy-maker Batplane.

Danny had waved, blinked out of visibility, and had gone back to his nap.

After phasing inside the plane and nabbing a batarang from Batman’s pouch, that is. Danny will consider it payment for the clean up service he’d unwittingly signed himself up for.

And so went the first encounter.

——

The second time he met the so called Big Leagues, Danny had just come back from fighting Dan. He wanted a break, dammit, and if staring at Saturn’s gorgeous rings and gaseous formations helped him sleep better, then that’s what’s going to happen.

Then, a similarly green glowing Green Lantern “landed” to where he was floating curled up. Danny knew about Lanterns. Their council often tried to meddle in his court.

“Hello,” the Ring projected its Lantern’s words to Danny’s head. Danny tilted his head without looking at the Lantern. “I’m John Stewart. What are you doing out here, kid?”

Danny thought this guy had a nice, soothing voice. Powerful, as Latern tended to be, but infinitely kind.

Danny decided that this one wasn’t immediately on his shit list.

“Phantom.” He said, and the Lantern asked him to repeat it as the glow of his ring enveloped the halfa.

“Phantom. Are you lost, Phantom?”

“No, just dead.”

John Stewart paused. “…Dead?”

“I’m a ghost,” Danny raised his hands and phased it through the Lantern’s arm.

“Ah,” the man said, flustered. “Right. So… you’re just…”

“Hanging out.” As he talked to the Lantern, Danny had a rather amusing idea. He rotated himself- turned- towards Jupiter and pointed to the Red Spot. “That’s actually my grave.”

John Stewart paused. “I’m sorry…?”

“My grave. Don’t disturb it. It’s rude,” Danny lied through his sharp ghost teeth. “Your council disturbed my grave the last time they stopped by and it took ages to get it back right.”

The green Lantern shield enveloping Danny flickered as John Stewart went through the five stages of grief. To be fair, the council had last visited this solar system... a couple thousand years ago, so John was no doubt rapidly doing some mental math regarding Danny's age.

“The council disturbed your grave…?”

“Not that they knew it, those pretentious weirdos.” Danny pretended to be offended, just to see the struggle on John’s face as he debated defending the council or telling a dead child their grave didn’t matter. Because Stewart was a hero, he went with the latter.

“I see. I am sorry, on their behalf.”

“Eh, whatever. Just make sure they don’t do it again. So… what can that ring do?”

——

"Hi. Could you not litter in space, please?"

Wonder Woman whirled around, sword out and pointed at Danny.

"A... child? Who are you, child?"

"I'm not a child-! You know what, it doesn't even matter. See that?" Danny waved at the pieces of shattered meteor and smashed up alien tech floating outside of the watch tower. "Littering is not cool."

"How did you get in here?"

"I'm Phantom. This is kind of my neighborhood." Danny let his mouth run, sleep deprived and exhausted. "I'm dead, that's how I got in here. Could you not litter in my backyard, please?"

He had better things to do than cleaning after full grown adult heroes.

"Oh, you are the ghost child Lantern mentioned! I see! My apologies, the clean up will be starting in a bit." Wonder Woman slid her sword back into its sheath.

"Great. Nice meeting you. I'll stick around to make sure you young whipper snappers clean up properly."

With that, Danny sunk into the floor. After a moment's deliberation, he decided to take a nap in the floor vent.

——

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Danny jolted awake once more. Ancients, like mentor, like mentee. Robin stared at him, awkwardly wriggling through the floor vents.

"I'm taking a nap here," Danny grumbled. "What are you doing in the vents?"

"Me? What are you doing in the vents? I'm allowed in here!"

"Wonder Woman knows I'm here," Danny replied. She knows... probably? "I'm Phantom."

"Robin."

"So... what are you doing?"

"Knowledge is power," Robin intoned, clearly imitating the Bat.

Danny stared.

"... You're stalking the JL?"

"Information gathering!"

"Stalking," Danny concluded, ignoring Robin's grumble. "Yeah, okay. If you need help, let me know, I guess."

"I don't need help." Robin paused, tilting his head to the side like a particularly curious bird. "Unless you're up for some pranks? Green Lantern's been getting on my nerves lately."

Danny frowned at him. "I like John Stewart."

"You've met- no, not him, the other one."

"Oh. What do I get out of it?"

Robin reached into his belt pouch and pulled out... a bag of marshmallows? How the hell did that-? Ah, right, hammerspace.

"Oh, wait, can you eat this?"

"I'm dead, not tasteless. I love marshmallows, hand it over. I'll help out."

"Deal."

——

"I swear to god, Spooky, there's something in the walls. It's even creepier than you!"

Batman grunted. He'd stop Robin if he went too far and it started affecting Lantern's abilities on the field, but as far as the Dark Knight was concerned, the Green Lantern had it coming. Robins were vindictive on a good day. If Hal hadn't learned that from Dick, then Jason's retaliation was well deserved.

"Oh, maybe it's the ghost!" Hal said, looking around with his ring glowing.

"I thought John said he was a godling?" Diana polished her sword as she looked on in amusement.

"The boy." Batman grunted. "Not human, his pointed ears and green skin is proof of that. Did J'onn say anything?"

"Not yet."

"Whatever he is, he saved Batman. He's welcome in the Tower," Superman tilted back as his hearing picked up on Robin's and Phantom's snickering.

[fukcnoplease]

Things always go wrong

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

Danny paced the halls of pariah dark’s castle, well his castle but even after a few years he wasn't used to that, as Frostbite watched in silence. His king isn't usually this restless before a council meeting but his distress was understandable. As his eighteenth birthday approached the council was getting more and more pushy for Danny to take up his role as king. Frostbite had used his leeway to allow the young king time to grow up and in the four years since his first transformation he had only been called to council a handful of times. It was an impressive feat less because they needed a king and more because the observers were anxious to keep the young king on a leash. 

This council meeting was called hastily as the anti-ecto laws had been passed recently and the GIW as well as the Fenton parents had become bolder in their pursuit of ghosts. The Fentons had almost captured one of Danny's rogues and it was too close of a call for the council to overlook. 

On top of that Dani was supposed to be coming home today. The young clone had taken to traveling the world as soon as she was free to. Her unstable nature had forced her home only a month after departing and it had taken months to convince Danny to let her go off alone again. Her destabilization had been easy to explain, as a clone she had been created without a ghost core and with continual use of her powers and no way to replenish her energy she had used her own body's ectoplasm to feed her powers. Frostbite was unsure if she would ever form her own core as her creation was unique but Danny had pushed. The idea Danny had come up with was to take a piece of his own core and give it to Dani, maybe jump-starting her own core cultivation in the process.

After defeating pariah dark Danny had begun absorbing his core, a way of proving his claim to the throne Frostbite had explained, and with it his own core had almost doubled in power. While unstable itself as it was still settling into its new power, it was possible to take a sliver and still keep the core at a healthy level. If Danny pushed for a bigger piece than strictly necessary, well no one but Frostbite would ever know that.

The council had rioted at another ghost having a piece of the king's core, it was usual for families to share cores in times of need but a king having a royal family was unheard of. Some of the council was against it all together and some were quick to try and coronate Dani a princess. Danny did his best to shield her from the council and made her promise to visit at least once every few months and call weekly. It had been a battle but Dani had accepted conditions as well as a phone Tucker had made for her. Then she was off, traveling the world and bringing back souvenirs and stories. 

A couple years had passed like that and they had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. A rhythm rudely interrupted by Danny’s looming birthday and his parents lack of self control. He was supposed to be at Sam’s house, ready to hug Dani when she arrived and with a whole day of movie marathons and nachos planned. Instead he was stuck pacing his entrance hall as Sam kept him updated on the happenings in the living realm. 

“Your majesty,” Frostbite rumbled, “perhaps it is time you enter the council’s chamber. An intermission can only last so long.”

The monarch hummed but didnt stop pacing. Every turn caused his layered cape to billow behind him in a strange way, as if it was floating underwater rather than being manipulated by wind. The king's crown had dulled from a fiery bonfire into a thin misty glow that wrapped in a circle over his head. Jazz would tease him for it, ‘It looks like the aurora borealis, your love of the sky bleeds into everything doesn't it?’ and she was right, though he would never admit it. Even as he combed his hand through his hair and the crown, the misty fire dissipating around his hand before gathering again, it still twinkled as if far away stars were shining in the crowns light. 

Danny spared little thought to his regalia as he paced. A wave of dread had come over him midway through the arguing and he had called a pause so they could recollect themselves. He had tried to check in with Sam but she wasn't responding. He had heard nothing from Dani either and something deep within him was screaming something was wrong. He couldn't abandon a council meeting on a hunch and honestly it was one of the few times he didn't want to have to abandon the council meeting. If only because it would mean nothing was wrong.

Dani had had some close calls over the years and while she had really come into her powers she wasn't as strong as Danny and the one time she had been hit by Maddie Fenton still held fresh in Danny’s mind.

His phone buzzed.

Sam had replied.

Eco-Terrorist: We cant find Dani

It was the only message Danny needed before he was off. Ripping a hole in the dimension himself as he crossed back to his preferred plane. He barely noticed Frostbites thoughtful hum as he moved to bring the news of the king's departure to the council.

The precious seconds Danny took to arrive at Sam’s house were spent spiraling as to all the worst things that could have happened. The fear doubled as he stepped through Sam’s wall to find her holding Dani’s phone and pacing herself. Tucker sat at the desk scouring what looked like security cameras on his laptop as Danny popped back into view.

If Sam yelped it was only because she was too stressed to try and cover it up.

“We found her phone in Amity Park, she hadn't been responding and it had been almost an hour since she was supposed to show up.” Sam stressed, she was flexing her hands around the phone. 

“Since she usually messages us if she is going to be late we decided to check if everything was alright. When we saw she was in the park and hadnt move in a while. We left immediately.” Tucker added. He had a wobble to his voice and a shine to his eyes. Danny gritted his teeth. “All we found was this.” Sam said as she threw Dani’s phone on the bed as if it had personally been the thing to commit the crime and went back to pacing, flexing her hands in and out of fists.

“Do we have any security footage that might help?” Danny asked. 

“Ive been looking but the park doesnt have much cctv except around the perimeter or playground. Its been useless. All Ive seen is the Fenton-mobile.” Tucker paused, Danny could hear him swallow as the same thought passed through all their heads. “You… you dont think…” 

“Ill go check the lab.” Danny said before he vanished. Already making his way through town as Sam and Tucker raced to follow him. 

It didnt take long for Danny to make it to his house, the ghost shields were down but the Fenton-mobile was nowhere to be seen. It gave Danny little hope but he made his way down to the basement, transforming into his human form just in case. He made his way through his kitchen and down the stairs where he looked into the lab and into his worst fear.

Dani lay still on a metal table, restraints on her arms and legs and waist as a trickle of ectoplasm dripped from her left arm onto the floor. She wasnt even in her ghost form. He jumped the stairs and made it to her in two strides. 

“Dani? Can you hear me?” Her head was lolled to the side but her eyes were open, if only barely. She blinked and squirmed slightly, making a grumbling sound before going still again. She was alive, likely drugged, definitely bleeding out. Her arm had a gash in it and two tubes attached to needles lay on the floor beside her. The tubes were tangled and thrown about, as if someone had tripped on them and then let them be. Rage bubbled within Danny but he forced himself to focus. He would not let Dani bleed out because he was too busy seething at his parents. He grabbed whatever he could use as medical supplies and wrapped Dani’s arm before trying to break her restraint.

Electricity coursed through him and he cursed. Refusing to let panic take over he turned to his parents computer instead. There had to be something that could undo the restraints and regardless he had to wipe whatever information they had on Dani. What he found was a conversation log of Maddie Fenton and an Agent W discussing payment and proper handover specifications for a ‘perfect specimen’ Maddie had found. The money was staggering and Danny’s rage almost made him crush the mouse he was holding. 

At one point, Sam had offered up the idea of destroying the lab and joining Jazz at Gotham U where she had chosen to go for college. They had toyed with the idea, saying it was for the future or it was a last resort, but ultimately never gone through with it. It was a bad idea to drag a meta equivalent to Gotham and in all honesty, Danny wasnt comfortable leaving Amity. He hated leaving the town limits even if necessary, he couldnt imagine choosing to live somewhere else. But right now, staring at his bleary, injured, unstable sister, he decided he would have to. 

His rogues would be pissed and he didnt really have a solid plan but he refused to let this happen again. To anyone.

It was little hassle to find the unlock to the restraints and erase the computer completely. His parents didn't trust the cloud and the physical copies they had would be lost in the fire. Tucker had copies of everything anyway. Dani moved to sit up but really only managed to roll off the table. Danny caught and he shared some of his ectoplasm to try and help her heal. It wasnt much but she started to regain lucidity.

“Danny?” she whispered and Danny hummed in response. Their cores hummed at each other, the harmony encouraging her healing. A boom rattled the building, it was far away but it snapped Danny back to the present. They didnt have time to sit there, he didnt know when his parents would be back and he needed to leave. 

He laid Dani on the floor as he went around and dismantled as many things as he could, leaving the vulnerable pieces in the open. Finally he turned to take the ectoplasm filter that powered the entire house. When he ripped it off its mantle alarms started blaring and he turned and grabbed Dani, hauling her up into his arms as he ran up the stairs. He heard her giggle something about bumpy rides and he was out the door and barrelling towards his beat up car parked across the street. 

Jazz had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday. Apparently she had originally planned to buy it for herself for her move to Gotham but Sam had managed to convince her parents to buy Jazz a brand new car. Something about the public transportation system being dangerous and it being the first thing Sam had asked for that had been manageable. It was beat up and an old red but Danny loved the car and used it often. He worried he would have had to keep his parents away from it, in case they try and ghost proof it but they never even noticed it. He parked it across the street and they just assumed it was the neighbors. No one had lived in the houses around them for years.

He shoved Dani into the passenger side before hoping the hood and sliding into the drivers seat. He didnt know he could do that.

Shoving his key into the ignition the engine roared to life. He managed to get down the street before his house exploded. The shockwave sent the car forward and he managed to catch Dani’s head before it met the dash. His windows rattled but none of them broke, a small victory he thought. 

His mind flashed to all the things he had had in his room, his home. His memories, his souvenirs from Dani, all his space and nasa memorabilia, all his clothes and any pictures he thought were important. His family, his friends, his school, his only solid portal to the Infinite Realm. 

His emergency supplies.

“Fuck.” he whispered as he kept driving. Dani giggled and said something like ‘language’ but Danny was too busy swerving through traffic to hear her. His phone buzzed and he jolted, he maneuvered to pull it from his pocket as he tried to check it only to barely miss an oncoming car and drop it into the footwell of Dani’s seat. He cursed again and kept driving. He wasnt going to stop until he was well and out of Amity. He focused on driving and harmonizing with Dani as he drove. 

As they raced across Amity his core began to pulse with panic. The lingering pain from losing his home exploding into waves of fear.

He wasnt stopping. The pulsing grew more intense and Dani whimpered in her sleep. He tried to calm down but something felt so intrinsically wrong with leaving and his core felt like it was going to burst.

The pressure grew as they got closer and closer to Amity’s border and as they crossed it something in Danny popped. 

He almost blacked out from the pain. The car swerving as he tried to regain control of himself. Something had broken and it felt like he was tilted on an axis. He could barely see and was forced to pull over. His breathes came in short painful gasps and he bit back a scream. He was trying to ride through the pain when his phone rang. Grasping for it he picked up and brought it to his ear.

“Danny? We saw the explosion, are you ok? Did you find Dani?” Sam said, crackling over the phone.

“Mhm. Dani is with me. We are going to Gotham.” Pain cracked his voice as he struggled to breathe. “ ‘s not safe. Need Jazz.” Was all he could manage before he was heaving.

“Danny! Stay where you are. We have ectoshots with us and we can-” Sam was cut off by an explosion behind Danny’s car. He whipped around to see a white van crashing through traffic. Danny slammed his foot on the gas and turned back to the road. The pain in his chest dulled as his desperation to protect Dani slammed back in full force. 

“Meet. In. Gotham.” Was all he could growl before he hung up the phone and drove in what he hoped was the direction north east. 

~~

currently obsessing over dpxdc shenanigans

I just love seeing danny act like a cornered animal

[plushish]

Resisting Temptation | Adam x Drunk!Reader

summary — In which Adam brings you home after a night out and manages not to be a complete degenerate, despite being tempted to when you start to drunkenly masturbate in front of him.

content — 1,744 words, fem reader, fem pronouns, smut, pre-established friendship (you're like best friends), masturbation, exhibitionism, some pining

a/n — my first story on here! wow!!!!! warning for drunken flirting, i guess slight dubcon? though adam is drunk too. also reader is kinda lute-coded

SMUT AHEAD !

“I had no idea you were such a fuckin’ lightweight,” Adam laughs boisterously, with you sprawled in his bed with eyes you can barely keep open, warmth burning through your every limb. The sensation wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just overwhelming coupled with all the other shit going on with your other senses. At least you were somewhere comfortable instead of on the cold tiles of the club’s bathroom floor, which was where he’d found you after you disappeared for thirty minutes. You’d take the smell of his sweaty sheets over the stained, cold tiles any day.

You were familiar with this space, having come here many times prior to. Whether it was for a house party, a jam session, or just to crash for a bit, you’d been in this very spot on his bed too many times to not be comfortable here.

“I can’t take your shit right now, just shut up for a bit, please.“ You slur out, earning a grumpy mumble from him, something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me to fucking shut up’. You were more concerned about the unbearable temperature in your face and your core, lazily lifting your shirt up your midriff to try and remedy some of it.

“Whoa, feelin’ hot are we? Tryna show me something?”

Your intentions were certainly not to make yourself appealing to the man in the room with you. Adam was just like that. He would get excited over a woman bending over to tie her shoe. It wasn’t that you were suddenly attracted to him– but something about him misinterpreting your action coupled with the way his voice, intoxicated with a sensual undertone and a hint of his sleazy charm, flicked the switch in your brain soaked with alcohol. “Yeah, it’s too hot,” you breathe with a sudden intensity. “Need it off.”

After a night of warm bodies near yours and some appetitive dancing, you had some lasting energy pent up– and whatever sort of restraint that normally keeps you from your deepest impulses is turned off at that moment. You spread your thighs and begin to tug down your bottoms.

Adam’s face heats up slightly, but for once, he stays quiet on his side of the room. Changes into something more comfortable and just watches as you toss your pants and underwear to a miscellaneous pile of his laundry in the corner.

In Adam’s bed, you feel right at home. Though it’s not something either of you have ever brought up or discussed, there is nothing that strikes you as particularly odd about stripping down in front of him to start touching yourself.

“...Cute,” He chuckles softly, sitting in his lounge chair. Getting lost in his own drunken haze, he drops his chin in his hand to watch with half-lidded eyes as you drunkenly spread yourself open.

“ ‘m not cute… I’m sexy,” You playfully correct him, rum on your lips. Though his breath smells of alcohol too, it’s much more prevalent on you, floating in the air around you. Suddenly feeling a little hot himself, he makes his way to his en suite bathroom, where he fills a glass with some water. You were way too far gone. He was too.

Adam makes his way back to your side of the bed. “Sit up, bitch,” he instructs crudely, but you obey. Standing right next to you, he tries not to pay your ministrations any mind, but still listens to the slick sound of it with a flush in his face.

Adam brings the cup to your lips with a little bit of annoyance as you sway from side to side, making him spill some down your chin along the way with a groan, a ‘fuckin’ damnit [Name]’, and an impatient sigh. Despite this, you drink obediently, wrapping your other hand around Adam’s to hold the glass in place, which only makes its contents slosh around more thanks to your disoriented movements.

“Holy fuck, slow down dude,” He complains as you chug wildly, still clumsily going at your own cunt with your other hand.

When he pulls the glass away from your mouth, you inhale sharply and deeply as you catch your breath from your unrestrained drinking.

“Don’t wanna,” you say breathlessly, a rivulet of water dripping down the corner of your lip. He stares, takes in the shine on your moistened lips in the dimly lit room. “Feels too good.”

Your tone is uncharacteristically seductive. He’s never seen you like this before. Adam sets the glass on a nightstand and sits on the bed next to you, your backs both against the headboard, same like how he does when you come over to binge shows and rot in bed with him for hours, sometimes days at a time.

“Really can’t stop?” He asks, a little irritated by the fact you’re bringing it up, making the awkwardness of trying to veer his attention away even more challenging.

“Yeah,” you hum, eyes closed. “Needed this so bad.”

He can’t keep himself from taking a glance– your shirt furled up, showing the expanse of skin there, a hand over your drooling cunt. Inches away from him.

“Hey, [Name],” he says in a serious but equally sultry tone all of a sudden.

“Yeeeaaah?” You sing-song.

“You’re really sexy.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you’re such a little doll. Fuckin’ cute,” He praises uncharacteristically, now stroking your hair with a gentleness you had scarcely ever seen from him before. Definitely the alcohol. He watches the way your lips form a lazy drunken smile, blissed out from your own touching. You watch his droopy eyes stare at you with some sort of intensity that you can’t quite read through your inebriated lens, but in your mind, you equate it with the same douchebag look you’ve seen in most other shitty men when they want sex.

“We have to fuck,” you suddenly blurt out.

His eyes widen into saucers.

Why now?

“Do we?” Adam asks casually, a little flippantly, as if he wasn’t completely stoked on the idea. Grinning slyly as if he hasn’t already suggested that a hundred times before, acting coy as if you hadn’t ignored his sexual advances for as long as he’s known you.

You nod very seriously while hopelessly trying to achieve more stimulation through your disoriented touching, your lower half raising off the mattress for a moment.

“Gonna have to turn that one down, babe,” he replies cooly, and in his mind, he pats himself on the back for actually turning down sex with you. “I’ll keep you in mind for next time though, ‘kay?”

You groan at his arrogance. “You’re unreal,” you spit, “so fucking annoying…” slurring and mumbling to yourself about something incoherent, and he snorts as he hears you ramble on, something under your breath about ‘blue balls’.

He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t achingly hard in his pants, but he won’t take advantage of you. This isn’t how he hoped it would happen, as loath as he is to admit to himself something as emotionally vulnerable as that. Maybe a little selfish.

He was definitely storing mental pictures and notes away for his own personal use later, but for now, he’s fine with just petting your head while you fuck yourself on your fingers.

“You’re just afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle me.” You say suddenly.

God. Fuck. He’s used to this type of behaviour from you, but not within a context like this. This is a real trial. It takes almost everything in him not to verbally challenge you back, so many possible sleazy responses he could give you. He’s no stranger to setting a mood. So many ways to provoke or tease you.

But he doesn’t, instead opting to ignore you with a grumbled and nonchalant “Yeah, okay, whatever” as he reaches for the remote to flick on the TV. Actions speak louder than words or whatever. Part of him hopes you’ll remember this later.

You scoff, too drunk and too enveloped in your own stimulation to care. You had other things to tend to.

He manages to veer his attention after that, his head turned to where his screen displays a rerun of some 4 AM cartoon. He tries to focus on the bouncing characters rather than what’s tempting him on the other edge of the bed.

A dull sight compared to you, naked from the waist down and still rubbing your cunt, a little slower now, distracted by the TV. Just next to him, fingers pressed against where your blood is swollen and sensitive. You spread yourself and feel how wet you are. Adam can hear the drooling sound of it so clearly, somehow tasteful to him, like light rainfall over a pond or a bathing suit dripping into a tub; sleepy summer sounds.

“Can you just rub your dick against my clit a little?” You ask, moving your fingers as if to give illustration of the idea, so swollen.

“Show me how you like to do it,” Adam proposes instead. “what gets you off best.”

You lean into him, letting out a pleased hum. In his own drunken haze though, he can’t help himself from it when he presses sloppy wet kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your swollen lips that taste so strongly of alcohol. You accept the kisses plainly while your fingers slot against your clit, pinching lightly. You moan breathily, hot against his lips.

God, you’re too fucking precious. He wants to be inside you so badly. He fuckin’ would be, if he were just a little bit worse of a person, if he happened to not give a fuck about you, if you weren’t already gasping and cumming, leaking onto the sheets of his bed.

“Good girl. Bet your pussy feels better now, huh?”

“Yeah...” You say with a yawn, the aftertaste of your orgasm already beckoning your body to rest.

“Get to sleep. You’ll need rest when I make you regret putting all this shit on me tomorrow.”

“Hey, Adam…”

“‘Sup?” He asks with that signature douchey indifference.

You scoot forward, tucking your head under his jaw. Lean into his neck and breathe against the pulse there.

Are you going to say it…?

“I’ve gotta piss,” you slur out. “and puke a little, probably.”

Adam deflates with disappointment.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” He sighs in defeat, before tossing the blankets back off of you and slipping a hand under your legs to carry you.

i didnt proofread this cuz ive read it a thousand times already but anyway let me know if u see any spelling mistakes at all, before someone else gets the chance to see them cuz that would be embarrassing and i'd have to boil myself alive

[hyunjin-mylove]

First morning of forever

You open your eyes to a brightly lit room. The morning sun coming in through the balcony doors that have been left open.

As your eyes adjust to the morning, you take in the room. The hotel sheets are warm and soft around you. Clothes litter the floor - your cheeks flush at the memories of last night. A water bottle has been left on your bedside table and you sit up to take a sip. The breeze from the open doors spreads goosebumps down your bare arms. It's then that you notice the empty spot next to you in the bed, quickly losing warmth.

You look over to the balcony, spotting your husband of not even 24 full hours. Instantly, you're warmed by the image of his figure standing out on the balcony, taking in the world below. His tan skin glows in the morning sunlight, almost like he's some angel and not a mere mortal. Hyunjin always had that aura about him and you were left completely speechless every time you recognized it. The silky robe he threw on when he got out of bed sways gently as another breeze rolls in. This time, you barely notice, too enraptured by the man you get to call your husband.

The ring on his finger sparkles in the sun, catching your eye. A smile finds its way to your lips as you recall how excited you were to put it on him the day before that your hands couldn't stop shaking until he guided your hands to his. Tears begin to well up as you recite his vows in your head, poetic by nature, and you need to lean back into the pillows to brunt the force of love and emotions hitting you all at once.

As if sensing you've awoken, Hyunjin turns to meet your eyes with his own. A gentle smile graces his face as he carefully takes in his bride. You're sure your hair is a mess and your pajamas were never the cutest, but there was not a hint of judgement in his eyes. The sun hit his eyes in such a way that plain old brown could no longer describe them, but no matter what colour they were, pure love was all you could see in them. It was all you'd ever seen when he looked at you.

Gracefully, almost as if he's floating, his long legs take him to the bed where you lay. He sits next to you and cups your face in his large hands. A kiss is pressed to your forehead and his thumbs swipe away the tears that fell when you closed your eyes in contentment at being held by him.

"Good morning, my love," he mumbles against your hairline. Hyunjin pulls away to look you in your eyes once again. "Happy tears or sad?"

"Happy," comes your wet reply. The grin on your face pulls at your cheeks in a way that you know he's restraining himself from pinching. "So very happy. Just overwhelmed by how much I love you."

You watch as tears begin to well up in his own eyes at your admission before he finds refuge in your hair. Even now that you're finally married, those three words coming from your mouth will always overwhelm him. His arms squeeze you close. The warmth radiating from him is grounding on this gentle, early morning.

Hyunjin's response comes as soft words whispered into your hair.

"You have no idea just the depths of my love for you. I meant what I said yesterday when I said I'm with you until the end. You've taken my heart and soul; I cannot live without you."

You gently push him away so you can see his face. He easily goes but before he can continue his speech, you pull him to your lips. The kiss is wet, both of your tears mixing on each other's cheeks, but it is no less gentle than he promised the day he learned your first kiss would be his to cherish. His hands find their home on your cheek and around your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your grip pulls him even closer to you, where he's practically laying on top of you, but it's exactly where you both want him to be. The plans he made for your first day as a married couple can wait, if it means you can stay in each other's embrace a little longer.

Hi!! Thank you so much for reading! The moment those pictures were released, all I could imagine was what it would be like to wake up to him the first morning of your honeymoon and this is what came about :)

[throneofsapphics]

Hi I saw you were open for drabbles and I hate this idea of like reader gets sick or need to take medicine for whatever reason but wont take it because it tastes bad. So I was thinking either maybe Azriel, Fenrys or if you don't like the two you can do a poly couple having to like force feed the reader because she wont listen to them?

Its okay if you don't like the idea though.

easy decisions

Azriel x Reader

Summary: you’re sick and refusing medication, Azriel takes matters into his own hands. 

Warnings: illness, forced medicating 

A/N: thank you for the request! I’ve think i’ve written this idea before, idk why but I love it 

“Mother save me,” Azriel muttered, crossing his arms. A small mountain of pillows and blankets surrounded you, a fire still roaring in the corner of your room. You’d been ill for days. At first, Madja said you’d likely get better with good rest and food - but it had progressed to the point where intervention was necessary. 

Yesterday, you’d taken it willingly - today was proving a bit more difficult. Unlucky for him, you were the most stubborn person he’d ever met. Lucky for you, even if you didn’t think that, he refused to compromise when it came to your health. 

“I suffered through it once,” you hissed, “that was plenty.” 

“And Madja said to take it once a day.” 

Mouth clamped shut, you shook your head and slid down in the bed. Adjusting the comforters around you, you turned your back to him. 

In. one, two, three. Out. one, two, three. 

“It’ll be over quickly,” he sat next to you, running his hand over your shoulder, the other folded around the glass vial. 

“The taste will stay in my mouth for days.” 

“You’re being a bit dramatic,” he murmured, and you snapped your head towards him, eyes narrowed. 

“You take it then.” 

“I’m not sick,” he fixed you with a look, “and I have.” 

The same stubborn expression. He loved you, he really did, but right now you were making it difficult. 

“You're not going to convince me.”  

“I already have hot chocolate for you,” Azriel tried a bribe this time. 

A shake of your head. He’d give it one last try. 

“Don’t make me force you,” he said - a half plea, half warning. 

Eyes rolled, “you won’t.” 

Another breath, in and out. “One more chance.” 

You studied him for a moment, and a bead of hope flared in his chest - extinguished when you turned your head back, tucking the blankets up with you. 

Azriel didn’t like doing this, but you were forcing his hand. Either you take the damn tonic, or he has to watch you grow more ill. It’s an easy choice for him. Moving quickly, he placed the bottle on the nightstand, gently gripping under your arms, tugging you up to sit. You yelped, thrashing in his grip, but he was already straddling your hips.

A shadow floated the bottle over, he snatched it and flicked the cork off, sending it flying somewhere across the room.

“Take. It,” his jaw clenched, normally endless patience at its limits. 

Hands tried to shove at his chest, but shadows wrapped around your wrists, pinning them at your sides. Your jaw remained clamped shut, and he wondered if you were doing this just to spite him, or if it really was because you hated it. Either way, he wouldn’t feel too bad over it. 

His hand wrapped around your jaw, scarred fingers rough against your smooth skin, and he squeezed - just enough for your lips to part, and to tip the contents of the vial down your throat, before he squeezed your jaw shut. Your entire face scrunched, but your throat never moved. 

“Swallow,” his voice was firm. 

A shake of your head - as much as you could move it. Now he knew you were being stubborn on principle. He tossed the vial aside, letting it clatter over the carpet, and pinched your nose between his thumb and forefinger

A promise of vengeance gleamed in your eyes. He’d like to see you try. A few seconds passed, your face growing red, but the desire for air took over, and your throat bobbed. After taking a few seconds to make sure you actually swallowed all of it, he carefully removed his hands. 

You sputtered, sucking air in and out of your lungs. Shadows still held your arms down as he ran his fingers through your hair, one thumb brushing away the drops on your lip, before pushing back into your mouth. You glared, but your tongue swirled, cleaning the last few bits. 

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He couldn’t help the small barb - especially as he saw the spark in your eyes, the fire he loved so much. 

A healthy dose of self-preservation had him sliding off the bed before completely freeing you, ignoring the litany of curses you spit at him to retreat to the tray placed on the dresser. It was risky, giving you his back, but the illness had you weak enough you couldn’t do much to him. 

Approaching you like someone might a feral kitten, he extended his peace offering. The mug of warm molten chocolate, exactly as you like it. You huffed and rolled your eyes, but took it from him, trying to fight the small smile. 

Azriel sat a few feet down - out of your reach, and moved the blankets enough to reach under, running his thumb in circles on the inside of your knee. “I hate seeing you sick.” 

Clenching the mug with both hands, your eyes softened, “I know.” 

“Will I have to do this again tomorrow?” 

A small hum, neither a yes or no. For fucks sake. 

[fangisms]

HEYY so I love your writing and have been stalking your account since yesterday 🤭 I checked and I saw ur request were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot and send a request but if you’re not interested it’s totally fine !!

I saw that you don’t have Harry on ur master list so idk if you take request for him? So I won’t request smth for him here but if you do write for him pls lmk !!

Ok now my actual request, can you write smth for Theodore Nott x fem!reader where reader is like tough and usually goes against the grain of what other people are doing and for once she decides to actually go to a party when a Some Guy starts hitting on her and she’s like obviously very not into it Theo confronts the guy and gets into a fight with him.

Like maybe they’ve known each other since they were young and when they got to hogwarts they grew apart bc they were in different houses but Theo has been like hardcore crushing on her for years lol. And like after he gets into the fight she cleans him up in the bathroom and is all like “you didn’t have to do that I can take care of myself” and he’s all like “yah I know” but feeling smug bc she’s blushing or smth and he’s all happy bc yah it’s been a while but maybe he still has a chance and doesn’t just have to watch her from afar forever 🤭

SORRY this is so long but I have been having Theo brain rot and this idea has been floating in my head for a couple days now

respectable fisticuffs

A/N: yk what i didn’t think i would but i WILL write for harry, send it in anon 🫂 also this request is so good pls gif cred: @possession

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Non-Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Battered and bruised, Theo misses you like hell and now seems like a great time to tell you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, theo gets in a physical fight, unsolicited flirting, cursing, tw blood/wounds, kissing, lots of ‘bellissima’, soo much pining

"What's she doing here?" Mattheo welcomes Pansy with a kiss on the cheek, leering at you like he's amused by your presence.

"I convinced her to show up, so pretty please don't scare her away," Pansy coos, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing towards the couches.

"It’s a your lucky day," he huffs, guiding you towards the sound of drunken laughter and song. "I know someone who's dying to see you."

"Don't we all," you tease. By the looks of it, he's leading you into the belly of the beast—a group of Slytherin boys crowded around a brassy gramophone. "So, who exactly is dying to see me?"

"Don’t play dumb, sweetheart... you know who," he whispers before slinking off to find a drink.

"Mattheo!" you shout, "Coglione." Maybe you should hunt Pansy down. She's the one who forced you to come after all, she deserves to bear witness to your misery.

Theo had no idea you were coming. If he had, he might've tried a little harder to impress. You look just as beautiful as the last time you ignored him, and it's not helping his crush in the slightest. Over the years, he's grown a real talent for watching you from afar. Since the sorting hat took you away from him, it's all he can do any more, and suffice to say, he misses you like hell even now.

As he's mulling it over in his head, you glance over at him. He thinks your gaze will dart away like it always does while he take a drag of his cigarette. But you wave. You hold up your hand and wave. At him. And he nods back like some nonchalant idiot. He loves the way your eyes always seem to sparkle just before you look away.

Theo waits until you've visibly relaxed to approach you. And just as he's mustering up the courage to leave his chair, Graham Montague spills his drink down your shirt.

"Shit," Graham pants, stumbling forward and clasping onto your waist for dear life. He looks down at your top—or rather, down your top—and chuckles to himself. "Might actually be an improvement."

"You smell like piss," you say. He palms your shoulder and laughs, leaning closer to mumble low in your ear.

"Does that mean you like it?" His fingers flex against your collar bone and trail up the length of your neck. You want to vomit.

Just then, his body falls limp to the ground with a thud, and you gasp, turning to see Theo looming beside you.

"Theo!" you shout, but he gently sweeps you aside, falling to his knees and taking a fistful of Graham's soiled collar.

"Get off of me—ow, prick," Graham whines, clawing at Theo's shoulder and reaching to scratch at his face. Theo slams his back hard against the floorboards with a sharp inhale before landing a punch to his face. Graham lets out a yelp and whimpers when Theo stands above him. Theo presses his boot to the palm of Graham's hand.

"Go near her again, and you'll lose your hand entirely," Theo seethes. Mattheo finally yanks him away with a snicker, guiding him to the stairwell. But not before Theo shouts, "Mangia merde e morte."

"Alright, dickhead, I think you've made your point," Mattheo says, squeezing Theo's shoulders as his eyes zip back and forth wildly, looking any and everywhere he can.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down—"

"Mattheo, you know where she is. Tell me," he huffs. If it weren't for the haunted look in his eye, Mattheo would've kept his mouth shut. But he knows how bad his friend needs this. How bad he needs you.

"She's upstairs. Told her she could borrow our bathroom."

"Sei come un fratello per me, thank you," Theo whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," Mattheo says, "you owe me one." Theo leaves him a kiss on the cheek before taking the steps two at a time.

The light from the boys' bathroom seeps through the crack in the door. It's the only light in the whole dorm, and he can see your shadow as it crosses back and forth. He feels like he's out on the field before a championship game or about to take an exam he didn't study for. His hands feel weak when he reaches for the doorknob.

He presses his ear to the door before opening it any further. "May I come in?"

You shuffle around, and he hears you approach the door on tender foot. He can't take the way you open the door and stand back like you're faced with some predator. He hasn't spoken to you in so long, all he wants is to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Theo?" you say, shutting the door behind him as he goes to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Don't say that," he says, carding his fingers through his hair. He groans at the pain shooting up his fingers.

You look over him softly. Subtly, so he won't notice, but he's gotten good at noticing you.

"Are you hurt?"

He looks at his knuckles, sprinkled with blood, and feels for the scrape on his cheek.

"No—"

He doesn't have time to explain himself before you're kneeling at his side, dabbing a cold towel against his jaw and tilting his chin up.

"It's worse than you think, Theo," you hum, pressing the damp cloth to the column of his neck as he swallows.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You idiot," you say. He hisses when you hold his jaw and turn his head, wiping the shallow gash on his cheek. Most of the blood is not his, which is a good sign. That doesn't stop you from wanting to yell at him, though. He can tell with the way you're frowning as you wet the dried blood on his warm skin.

"I had it under control, you know,” you say.

He can't help but smile at your determination. He always admired that about you. Too stubborn for your own good. And his.

"I know."

Your eyes drift across his brow, narrowly avoiding the eye contact he so craves. He drinks in the curve of your lashes, the sweetness of your cheek, the way your thigh is pushed against his knee.

"He was harmless. And drunk. And you should’ve known better."

"I know," he huffs. You toss the pink-tinged towel into the bowl of the sink.

"We're not kids anymore, I don't need you to protect me." You stay knelt at his feet, focused on your knees digging into the cold tile. It makes you sad to think about you and him like this. You used to be friends. Best friends, in fact, the kind of friends adults would say were 'joined at the hip'. You used to cry over being sorted into different houses, but you got over it. That's life. You figured he moved on and so should you. Maybe neither of you moved on in the end.

"Look at me." His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you meet his soft green eyes.

"Bellissima..."

"You are such an idiot," you huff. Theo looks down at you like he's been waiting to all his life. Like he's been cursing that very first day since it happened.

"I miss you," he coos, fingers twitching where they're rested on his knees. "I miss having you close to me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?"

You look away. "No."

"How?"

Oh, and you hate the way he smiles when he knows he's about to get what he wants. He knows exactly how to get you flustered. That's exactly why he was your first kiss. And your second.

"Come on, bellissima... tell me you miss me," he whispers, leaning his elbows onto his knees to be closer to you. To have his nose brush the tip of your own. He craves the shape of your mouth now more than ever.

Then you look at him. Him and his dastardly grin, how the charm pours out of him in gobs. The hair sweeping across his forehead and how you always catch him looking at you how he is now. Innocent and longing. Like you’re beautiful. Like you’re his again.

“Of course I miss you,” you sob, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, “I miss you, Theo.”

“Oh, bella,” he says, fitting himself into your arms, knees pressed to either side of your own as he slides to the floor. You shudder against his body, and he holds you tighter. “I never want to be without you.”

You pull away just to look at him, his face, the way time has changed him. He has his hands on your waist when you lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he waits for another. You swipe your thumb where you’d just pressed your lips, and you kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles, eyes still gently shut as he manouvres his fingertips to the curve of your bottom lip. And you kiss him.

masterlist

[inourtownofhawkins]

​🇺​​🇳​​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇩​​🇮​​🇹​​🇮​​🇴​​🇳​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​​🇾​

Summary: After coming off your medication, you're really suffering through the withdrawals but your boyfriend helps you through it.

Author's note: I know many people won't relate to the things going on in this fic but as someone currently going through withdrawals from my medication, I thought I could use it for a fic because goddamn I might as well turn my suffering into art. Special thanks to @hellfiremunsonn for helping me with the pet name!

CW: 18+, talks of poor mental health, medication withdrawals, Steve calls reader angel.

Word count: 485

Tagging: @rowanswriting @quinnigallagherjones @hellfiremunsonn @stevesxyellowxsweater

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

You did not feel well at all; from the constant zapping inside your head to constantly feeling like you were floating, your withdrawal symptoms were absolute hell. It was your own stupid fault for coming off your medication cold turkey, but in your defence, you had no idea the withdrawals would be this bad.

All you wanted to do was curl up with Steve in his bed bed and watch Narnia or have a Doctor Who marathon together until the zapping inside your head and the nausea went away. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend was stuck at work and wouldn’t be home for a few hours, so you had to deal with your symptoms alone.

Wrapping yourself up in one of Steve’s hoodies, you turned on 90 Day Fiancé to have at least some background noise, just so you weren’t lying in bed in total silence. You struggled to concentrate on anything for long periods of time so to have something mindless was the best thing you could do.

You must’ve fallen asleep because you were woken up to feeling Steve’s fingers gently brushing through your hair, causing you to give him a shaky smile as you opened your eyes.

“Hey angel, how’re you feeling?” Steve asked, continuing to stroke the top of your head and your hair.

You groaned a little before sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes before wrapping the bed covers around yourself. “Like a peach… a battered and bruised one.”

Steve smiled softly, almost sadly. “I’m sorry, angel. I promise I’m gonna take a couple days off and look after you.”

You shook your head, leaning into him. “You don’t need to; I think I just need to sleep this stuff off for the most part.”

He pouted slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head. “Is there anything I can do to make things better?”

Pouting yourself, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I just need you here,” you whispered, your voice cracking a little as you sniffled. Groaning, you moved away from Steve to wipe away your tears.

Your emotions had been all over the place all week; you broke out into uncontrollable crying over the smallest things, and you were growing tired and irritated of it. All you wanted was to go back to normal but that felt like a lifetime away, and for all you knew your withdrawal symptoms could last for months.

Seeing your tears, Steve pulled you into his arms and held you close, rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. “I promise I’m gonna be here for you, angel. How about I put on Narnia and order some sushi?”

Wiping away your tears with the sleeve of Steve’s hoodie, you nodded your head and crawled back into bed while Steve pressed play on the TV and the title screen of Narnia greeted you.

[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, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, 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

[annabelle--cane]

so I don’t have the knowledge of details that you have (complimentary) but is there anything in the computer code Colin looking into being written in German and Jonah Magnus’ buddy living in the Black Forest and finding that crypt that one time? Or is that Too far a reach?

vibrating at the speed of sound. so there are a couple of floating details around from the podcasts, the arg, and some promotional materials that may point back to germany having particular relevance. some of this is absolutely me going full pepe silvia, but there are enough threads here that I feel like it has to amount to Something.

so. germany.

archives 'verse:

-> point 1: johann von württemberg. while staying with his nephew in the schwartzwald in 1816, albrecht von closen finds an old mausoleum with the inscription "johann von württemberg" over the door, and it is guarded by a man with no eyes who nonetheless seems to be able to see. in a deep chamber well beneath the ground is johann's coffin, and the room is completely lined with books so old that they'd all rotted through and fused together, the marble shelves they're placed on having little carvings of open eyes all along them. the only two objects in a good state are an illuminated manuscript in arabic that had been kept apart from the rest of the books, and a gold coin with an engraving of a young man with flowing hair, the initials "JW," the year 1279, and the words "für die stille" (google translate tells me that’s “for the silence”). albrecht asks around for any information about johann because the name is unfamiliar despite his quite good knowledge about local history and nobles, and someone says they remember him being called "ulrich's bastard," likely referring to ulrich the i or ii, two counts of württemberg from the 1200s. with that information, in the present day jon is able to find some historical records that point to ulrich i having a son out of wedlock in 1255 who was rumored to keep the company of witches.

-> point 2: the von closens. it seems that a servant nicked the coin albrecht found before he could go home with it, and that was probably for the best for albrecht, because that servant Died Badly from what was ruled to be an animal attack. albrecht did take the book with him, however, and presumably went on to show it to jonah magnus. he then must have gone back for the rest of the rotten books at some point, though, because when doctor jonathan fanshawe visits his estate in 1831, albrecht has a full library of recently re-bound books that he tells fanshawe he got from the tomb, and owning them has done terrible beholding-esque things to him. fanshawe, in his capacity as a doctor, says they should return the books for albrecht's health, and they do so, but just as the last book is returned, albrecht dies, and fanshawe realizes that all the books were blank and finds out that jonah arranged to have them all swapped out by the book binder. when fanshawe performs an autopsy on albrecht's body, all of his insides are covered in eyes.

in his statement from 1816, albrecht says he and his wife carla have been unable to conceive, though in 1831 fanshawe mentions that all of albrecht's sons were away at school when he came to visit. not something that's impossible, they could have managed to have children shortly after 1816, but it does make me raise an eyebrow. magically blessed fertility? dimension shenanigans? fanshawe does mention a tree being burned on the von closen estate that feels remarkably similar to the tree on hilltop road.

anyway, wilhelm, albrecht's nephew, has some children, and the family stays in germany for about another century, but one branch eventually moves to england, and their descendants include mary and gerard keay. according to gerry, mary was big into mythologizing about the von closens and really tried to get him to continue her idea of a legacy for the family, but he thought most of what she said was made up.

protocol 'verse:

-> point 3: colin's comment about source code being written in german. nothing much to explain here, just that it's Weird that source code for some Weird bespoke program for the british civil service is written in german, right? Bit Odd.

-> point 4: the usenet forum. okay so I'm an avatar of the idiot and only read up about the arg after it was already over and don't know anything about code and whatnot, but as best as I can understand: on the OIAR's official website, if you try to submit a form, you get an error message, and if you look into the source code for the error then you find Some piece of code with an IP address shaped hole in it, and there's an IP address hidden in an OIAR advertising video, so you put that IP address into the code, do something else (???), and then find yourself at an old defunct usenet forum from the 90s/00s for people who left east germany.

(it is from here that I got too verbose for my own good, so the rest is under a cut)

notable things about the forum: most of it is pretty normal, and, naturally, it was pretty much all in german, massive shoutout to everyone who helped to translate all 21k words of it. there are threads about finding work in various countries, weird cultural idiosyncrasies, resources, reminiscing about berlin, yknow, normal stuff. the mod “SandmannS” (translates to exactly what it looks like) ran the forum with a bit of an iron fist, which I guess makes sense, it’s the kind of forum that attracted people who wanted to say some heinous stuff and he was really serious about not letting anyone solicit personal information, but he was also kind of overzealous about keeping threads on topic and locking any discussions that he thought were “pointless.” he was eventually strongarmed into opening a thread for cat pictures, and that’s as good an opening as any to talk about some of the Weird things about the forum.

one of the cat photos was posted in february 1994 and shows a cat standing in front of the thames, with what looks like the completed o2 arena in full view (great choice of a red flag landmark to include @ whoever chose it. nice big landmark that was called “the millennium dome” when it first opened, a handy reminder that it was made to celebrate the turn of the millennium and construction wouldn't even have started in 1994). several comments across the threads are dated as earlier than the comments they’re replying to, one person references the content of the phantom menace a few months before its release, and several comments were somehow made after the mod locked the forum in dec 2001/jan 2002.

and okay. the forum locking. I’m going to condense this to all hell because this is already [redacted] words long but basically, “einsamernarr” (translation: lonely fool) was an active user of the forum with a big conspiratorial streak, real paranoid about “the government” spying on him, always getting warnings and just dodging getting banned just before going too far, yknow, a Type of Guy. in december 2001, he mentions in a book rec thread that he was trolling through some databases and found a bunch of old records and he can’t tell if they’re fictional or not, but he’d like to share them if he can. about five days later, he starts posting in several threads that he did something really dumb, people are after him, the meetup they were planning is not safe and this forum is being watched, people should look for him if he doesn’t come back within a week, and he’ll try to leave some info behind for them just in case. a few days later, a couple of people post worried messages asking if anyone’s heard from einsamernarr and that they’ve been getting weird cryptic emails about an “institute” from him, and sandmanns says that he did everything he could, but he can’t keep doing this, and he closes the forum.

marina “avatar of the idiot” annabelle--cane showing my face here again, I don’t know how this next part happened, but it’s possible to retrieve the email einsamernarr sent, open it with a password found in colin’s code repository (that’s a whole ‘nother thing), and find inside: 1. some pictures of bonzobucks, 2. a weird pdf of an old german book on alchemy with a lot of symbols and codes in it, and 3. a spreadsheet of the names, ages, and test results of the hundreds of children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was performing psych studies on. which finally brings us to our next, much shorter section.

-> point 5: “gerard kaey” (sic). gerry’s name is on that spreadsheet, which I think is relevant to this conversation given mary’s obsession with the von closen legacy. archives ‘verse mary keay resented the magnus institute for what she felt it stood for comparison to what she felt she stood for; she saw jonah magnus as a thief who stole away her family’s honor, so what might be different about the protocol ‘verse situation? why would mary keay in this universe send her only heir to go get scrutinized by a bunch of self-important academics?

-> point 6: the berlin dead drop. more arg stuff, we’re getting into things that I’m sure probably have more to be said about them than I’m capable of saying, but from some clues in a picture of cookbooks that einsamermarr posted in the cat pictures thread of the usenet forum to annoy the mod, and a voicemail on the OIAR’s telephone line, people found out the date and location of the first irl arg event, and it was for somewhere in berlin. a newspaper covered in alchemical symbols was found in a bookshop, and from that people somehow derived coordinates, and those coordinates lead to the last irl event where a battered old video tape with a video of a creepy ritual was found (note: the tape was too badly damaged, so another copy of the video came from an arg affiliated tumblr account).

-> point 7: klaus.xls. from a floppy disk found in the second irl arg event, klaus.xls is a spreadsheet originally written in german with about 100 dates and times of potentially paranormal sightings. a lot of it is corrupted and unreadable, but there are columns for category, rank, “TSHU,” and notes. translated into english, notes sections that aren’t corrupted say things like “mr. b,” “war people,” “avoid, “unhappy child,” “ink,” “lady m,” “cats lol,” and “I hate witches.”

-> point 8: albertus magnus and the philosopher’s stone. right, this is where I go a bit off the rails, and credit to this post by @misfitmagpie for discovering some of this. first, nearly every official visual we’ve had for tmagp has been covered in alchemy symbols. they’re all over the logo, they’re all over the in-universe OIAR and magnus institute websites, they highlighted hints in the arg, they’re everywhere, and the end goal of alchemy was the pursuit of the mythical philosopher’s stone, a substance that could turn base metals into gold and produce an elixir for eternal life. the tmagp logo/the coat of arms for the OIAR is centered around an upside down alchemical symbol for the philosopher’s stone, a circle in a square in a triangle in a larger circle. 

albertus magnus (aka saint albert the great) was a bavarian philosopher and scientist who did some writing on alchemy and has been widely rumored to secretly have been a master alchemist, mainly as a result of a lot of people attaching his name to writings about alchemy that he never touched. some have credited him as discovering the actual philosopher’s stone, and while he never made that claim in any way that survives, he did record that he’d witnessed seeing base metals be turned into gold. something of which to take note is that he didn’t go by the name “magnus” during his life, that was appended to him posthumously, it’s just another way of calling him “the great” with a fancy latin word, but it does kind of remind me of that edmond “reimer” halley -> maxwell rayner thing from mag 140. if you discovered the elixir of life and became immortal, you would probably need to nab a new identity at some point, and if people have already been nicknaming you “albert the great,” well…

anyway, the thing that’s really cemented his potential relevance in my mind is his birth and death dates: c. 1200-1280, lining up perfectly with the time period of johann von württemberg (thought we’d moved on from him, didn’t you?). I know magnus timelines are notoriously a bit unruly, especially the further back into the past we get, but it’s scratching at my brain. besides that, I think it would be a really cool move if the magnus this podcast is named for was a completely different person than the magnus the last podcast was named for.

if albertus magnus isn’t directly relevant then I’ve got another theory about the title that I’ll be posting in a hot minute, but it’s not germany related and this ask is already long enough. 

just, to sum up, a lot of protocol content so far has been germany-adjacent, and even if nothing more comes of it I think there are a lot of interesting threads here to speculate about.

[reminiscingtonight]

Reunions

Alessia Russo & Reader (Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader)

Word Count: 713

A/N: Started this after the transfer news. Finished after Alessia's semi-final goal. Seems fitting to add it the Setbacks Universe

[Setbacks Masterlist] // [WOSO Masterlist]

The last couple months have been a rollercoaster. 

After working through your injury, you’ve bounced back with a vengeance, all the weeks you’ve spent cooped up translating to endless bounds of energy on the field. 

There’s no other way to describe the second half of the season than constant ups and downs. 

Arsenal beat out Chelsea for the Conti-Cup title. 

Your girlfriend tore her ACL.

You sold out the Emirates for the Champions League semi-final.

You lost the Champions League semi-final. 

And then you got called up for the freaking World Cup.

It’s definitely a bittersweet feeling, being called up to live your dreams while your girlfriend is stuck watching on the sidelines. But Leah’s quick to reassure you of how much you deserve it. Of how proud she is of you.

You thought making the world cup squad would be the highlight of your year. The peak of this year of ups and downs.

You never accounted for one Alessia Russo.

July 4th might be America day to those living across the pond, but July 4th will always be “Alessia Russo joins Arsenal” day to you.

“So.”

Blue eyes look up at you, narrowing with good reason. There’s a devious look in your eyes as you plop down next to one of your best friends. 

“Missed us that much, huh?” 

Alessia’s dressed in Arsenal gear, having just finished her photoshoot and making her rounds around the training ground. You lit up the second the blonde opened the door to the physio room, you having had accompanied Leah to her appointment, and you haven’t left Alessia’s side since.

Alessia rolls her eyes. “Lotte maybe. You? Not so much.”

“Ouch, you wound me,” you gasp, hands clutching at your heart.

Of course you’ve been aware of all of the rumors floating around. Alessia Russo to Arsenal everyone said, the media, the fans. Everyone but the one person who actually mattered. 

Despite all of your probing, Alessia refused to tell you where she was actually headed to after her contract with Manchester United ended. 

You were just starting to entertain the idea of her following her ex-Manchester teammate to Barcelona when Alessia finally spilled the beans. Not even Leah’s injured form could stop you from lifting and twirling your girlfriend around when you got the news. Leah had simply laughed at you, telling you to put her down.

And now you’re here. Sitting in the oh-so familiar locker room, with someone who’s also oh-so familiar, just not familiar with this side of the field.

“I can’t believe it. The Tar Heel gals, back together again.”

Alessia snorts at the phrase, remembering when she shouted that upon your late addition to the Lionesses senior squad.

“Only this time we get to do it at Arsenal.”

“The better reds,” you nod in return, laughing when Alessia shoves you back in retaliation. Alessia might be a gunner now, but you know she’ll always have a soft spot for her childhood team.

“Babe, leave her alone.”

The sight of Leah making her way into the locker room has your face breaking out into a smile, but something akin to a whine is quick to break out of your mouth at her warning. “But Leah! Lessi is--”

The sight of a perfectly crafted eyebrow raising at you has you shutting your mouth with a click.

“Lessi is what?” Alessia eggs you on, laughing at the face you pull at her. 

Leah ignores the disgruntled look you shoot her way, sighing at your dramatics. “The two of you are children.”

“Well this child gets to go home with you,” you point to yourself. “That child is banned from… ” you trail off, trying to think hard of something to stay. 

It’s Alessia’s muffled laughter that has you blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Alessia’s banned from ever meeting Winnie!”

The silence that follows is very telling.

Leah avoids eye contact while Alessia looks all too gleeful.

You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at Alessia. “You’ve already met Win?! They wouldn’t let me meet her until I my second month here!”

.

The three of you run into Win on your way out.

Leah has to try not to laugh when Win nearly knocks you over to get to Alessia.

[caffeinemachine]

Life Jacket - Chapter 1

Conrad Fisher x Eldest Conklin Sibling Reader

I just wrote this so quickly cause it was sitting in my head and it had to get out. Go read this post for an idea of what this series will be! I'm very excited about it!

Here's Part One!!!

Word Count; 1.2K

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cousins. Lots of mixed emotions came with going to Cousins. I loved it I really did, but I wasn’t blessed with the privilege of experiencing the blissful, worry-free love like my sister. Things still followed me to Cousins, responsibilities. And I always was stuck wishing they didn’t.

My siblings got to go swimming whenever they wanted, I had to swim once a day to “keep up with it” in my parents' words, mainly my Dad. I know they don't mean it. That in their hearts they do it out of love. Cause I do love swimming, I really do, but sometimes I wish reality could go on pause so I could live freely for a little while. With no concerns, or right way or wrong way, just me doing as I please. Without my Dad here the past two summers it helped. He’s harder on me than Mom. I grew up to realize it was just cause he didn’t really know how to be a parent. Does anyone really?  But his way of showing me love as a parent was by promising my success and ensuring my future. Well, I got recruited to Harvard's swim program with a scholarship so I guess his way of love kind of worked.

Despite everything, Cousins meant I got to see them. Susannah, Jeremiah, and him. Conrad. He was what stirred my emotions about Cousins the most. I’d had a crush on him for as long as I could remember. But I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t jeopardize our families like that.  I didn’t have time for boys. I had tried to date here and there, but everyone got bored, or mad that I “didn’t have enough time for them”. I couldn’t even get upset because they were right. I didn’t have time for them like normal high school girls did. I couldn’t hang out after school, I had swim practice and very few high school boys wanted to hang out just to do homework together once I got home if you know what I mean. I couldn't afford to be distracted, so I let them all go. I couldn’t do that to Conrad, put him in that situation. I also think I couldn’t do it to myself. The other boys didn’t matter, but him? Losing him would crush me so hard that I don’t think I would recover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drove to Cousins with Steven in my car.  I had saved up all summer and bought my trusty Volkswagen Passat last Fall. That was another pro about Cousins, the money. I've worked as a lifeguard at the club since I was 15, and I also did swim lessons there as well as private lessons. Those people will pay real well to have an all-star swimmer teach their three-year-old how to float I’ll tell ya.

“So you excited to work this summer?” I asked Steven. He got a job at the pool snack stand at the club and I had helped Jeremiah get a position as a lifeguard.

“Yeah, I guess, I’m excited to make big bucks like you have been all these summers.” He smiled at me making me instantly light up. Steven just had a natural energy to him that brightened people's moods. 

We jammed out to music for the rest of the drive and before I knew it we were pulling in the driveway. I noticed my mom's car wasn’t here yet. Knowing her and Belly, they probably stopped for snacks. Man, this house. I dreamed about this house. It was absolutely beautiful. I honked, our signal to them we had arrived. 

Jeremiah was the first one to run out to see us, but Susannah was not far behind. Conrad was nowhere to be seen, odd. I didn't have time to think about it though as Jere scooped me up in a big hug and spun me around. I noticed then how much he had grown since last summer. He probably started working out and he definitely grew a couple of inches. As we said hello he had a huge smile on his face, he usually did Jere was always a golden retriever in human form. 

Then Susannah came up to me. when Susannah hugged me it was like life went on pause, the way I always wanted it to. In her arms I was safe, in her arms I was still just her baby, the first born girl. 

“ Wow Y/N look at you, my precious girl, you've bloomed," Susannah said to me as she held the sides of my face. I never doubted a word Susannah said, the way she said things made me believe them. Susannah never said it and neither did I, but we were each other's favorites. She always spoiled me, she always was my number one fan. Susannah had a level of enthusiasm to her that most people didn't have. It probably wasn't fair for me to call her my favorite. She got to love me like a mother and spoil me like the fun aunt, and she never had to give me any of the negatives. So yes it probably wasn't fair for her to be my favorite, which is why I only ever told her private.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all walked back inside, Susannah and Jere helping Steven and me carry in our bags. Still no Conrad. I dropped my bags on the floor as I scanned my eyes around my room. Nothing out of place, everything was as I left it. I really do love this room. It was bigger than my one back home, it even had a small walk-in closet.  Conrad and I had the biggest rooms, we were the oldest so we got the first pick of rooms. 

I'm mindlessly unpacked for a while before hearing the same signal I had done myself just a bit earlier, Mom and Belly were here. I didn't rush down after all, I had seen them just a few hours ago. I thought it was okay to let them have their own proper reunion with the Fishers. So I finished putting the rest of my clothes in my drawers before I went downstairs. However, when I open my bedroom door, I open it to find Conrad with his hand in mid-air as if he were about to knock. 

“Whoa- oh, hi,” I said somewhat skeptically, he had just appeared out of nowhere, where had he been when I would got here? He cleared his throat, shuffling his feet somewhat awkwardly as he put his arm down from its spot in the air and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Hey, um I was uh coming to say hello!  I was down at the beach surfing all morning, I didn't even realize you were here until your mom pulled up and you weren't with her.” He seemed nervous for some reason, I wasn't sure why.

“Don't worry about it, was the surf any good?” 

He smiled at me then, “ Yeah it was so good, I lost track of time.” I smile back at him, I had missed him. 

“Glad to know you missed my entrance for something worthwhile.” He laughed, me along with him before his face went back to being relaxed. He stared at me in silence for a few moments before suddenly, before I could even realize what was happening, Conrad had his arms around me. Conrad was hugging me. It was nice, but odd. Conrad wasn't the most affectionate person and this was very out of the blue.

“I'm happy you're here Y/N.” He whispered, slightly muffled by my hair. We backed away as I said,

“Me too.”  The silence stretched a moment too long for my level of comfort. He was too intoxicating, his gaze on me was all consuming, I had to get out of there. “I'm going to go say hi to my mom and my sister.” I rushed out, going past him down the stairs before he even replied.

This summer was already off to an interesting start.

[wileys-russo]

can you write smt for kyra with that photo of her with flowers as inspo?

airport flowers II k.cooney-cross

the plan was simple.

you'd told your girlfriend there was a last minute work emergency and you'd need to fly out to melbourne for the few days she was back in australia for national duty in perth.

but really you'd be landing the same day as kyras first match back in australia and would be going from the airport right to the game to surprise her. then you'd also not yet told her with some other tillies help you'd be taking the same flight home back to england with her, when she thought you'd need to be based back in australia for another month.

you'd not seen her in person for almost five weeks now due to your job and with the footballer normally the one to create surprises for you and organise cute little gestures, you decided it was your turn.

to kyras credit when you told her initially you'd be unable to make it to her games or see her while she was here she put on a brave face and as per usual was as supportive as could be.

you worked as the sole social media and marketing manager for a clothing brand started and ran by one of your childhood best friends, having been there on board to watch and help the brand grow since it was just a seemingly silly little idea floated on a drunken night out when you were teenagers.

with kyra starting her pro career off in australia in the a-leagues the two of you had met during her time playing for victory. you'd reached out to her agency about a potential sponsorship deal with the brand and met up with kyra and her team a few days later.

the young midfielder was quite smitten with you and nothing but charming as she'd asked you out for a coffee with the request you show her where the best could be found.

a few coffees and kisses later and you were very happily coupled up, much to your best friends teasings that you were using his company as a means of picking up girls.

then fast forward a little with kyras move over to sweden you split your time between there and back home, able to do the majority of your obligations and meetings remotely not having a 'base' you needed to be stationed at.

now with her setting down roots in england you split your time between there and australia. you now had a small team underneath you and it meant it was rare you were really needed in australia all too often.

like you said the plan was simple, but it seemed the universe had other ideas.

it started when your flight was delayed three and a half hours, leaving you with a very narrow gap to get from the airport to the game before kick off, not for warm ups like you'd planned.

sending kyras sister a message informing her of the above she assured kyra was still in the dark about everything and seemingly in good spirits for the game.

the next hurdle came when your bag never appeared on the luggage carousel, and after following it up with management it became apparent it was left on the tarmac back in sydney where you'd flown in from.

doing your very best to keep a cool head you were informed it would be sent with the next available flight and asked to wait around for that to land...in another four and a half hours.

your patience wafer thin at that point you'd organised for the airport to hold it overnight and you'd come collect it tomorrow morning, a quick check of the time confirming you'd be lucky to make it by the second half.

the third barrier came in the realization that you'd been logged out of your uber account and unable to remember the password you were tearing your hair out as with one wrong attempt too many your account was locked.

so with time fading fast and your mental stability unraveling even faster you hurried to the nearest atm and grabbed out a wad of cash, darting into the small gift shop and grabbing the very last bunch of flowers they had.

these were of course all unopened bar two or three flowers and looked more like weeds, but in your case beggars couldn't be choosers and hailing down a taxi you could finally breath knowing you'd finally left the prison that the airport was beginning to feel like.

watching the game on your phone as the taxi sped toward the stadium, the price growing higher and higher with every minute, you couldn't help but allow your chest to swell with pride seeing just how good your girlfriend was playing.

you hadn't even realised you'd arrived until the driver cleared his throat and you glanced up, the second half having just kicked off you could hear the cheers of the crowd as you opened your door, dropping a wad of notes into the drivers hand and sprinting toward the entrance.

you breathed a sigh of relief seeing kyras mum waiting for you with one of the security guards clearly explaining the situation as the man nodded, scanning your ticket as you were given a lanyard and ushered inside.

there was a cheer from kyras friends and family all of whom you'd met before as you finally arrived, all of you in the matildas family section right above the subs bench.

you gave a wave to charli who stood on the sideline as her eyes widened and a grin grew on her face and she eagerly waved back before turning her focus to the game.

her number called she was subbed in for ellie who tapped her hand as charli raced onto the pitch to screams and cheers. settling back in your seat you fended off the teasing remarks made your way for your very poorly timed arrival and the measly bunch of flowers in hand.

you wiggled into your cooney-cross jersey you'd had in your carry on, finally breathing properly and allowing yourself to wind down and enjoy the game going on.

the matildas were up 2-0 and with sam scoring a screamer from well outside the box and steph delivering a beautiful corner right to alanas head it ended 4-0 to australia with a thunderous roar from the crowd.

you waited patiently as kyra did her lap of the pitch, shaking your head furiously at her teammates who made gestures clearly asking if you wanted them to grab her for you, not wanting to ruin the surprise that the universe had done everything to try and spoil for you.

finally she started to head back towards the family and friends section with charli and remy hanging off either of her sides you waited by the barrier with a smile, both blondes seeing you well before kyra did.

"hey space cadet, can i get your autograph?" you called out, her head whipping around and jaw almost hitting the floor as she tripped over her own feet in her haste to get to you, making the girls around her roar with laughter as her cheeks flushed pink.

"what the fuck! i thought you were in..." kyra shook her head in disbelief as she reached you, your hands moving to cup her face as you shook your head. "surprise?" you grinned, a beaming smile of her own curling onto her lips as she tugged you into a hug.

"i love you." you mumbled into her shoulder, rubbing her back, the midfielder pressing a kiss to your cheek as she pulled away. "you played alright i guess." you sighed sarcastically, grabbing the flowers from your feet and handing them to her.

"yeah thanks!" the girl shoved your head as a small blush coated her cheeks and she spun around to pose for charli with her flowers. "but i didn't see you at half time?" your girlfriend asked, free hand interlocking with yours as she sweetly kissed your knuckles now causing you to blush.

"its a very long story babe."

[livingemkayde]

ch v. just you

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter five of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. smut, half porn half plot, unprotected p in v, oral, f!receiving, a little fingering, kinda dom!joel but hes sweet. rough sex and mentions of bruising. some verbal disagreements and fighting. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, talk of miscommunications. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).

summary: you confront joel about, well, everything. you talk it out in more ways than one.

a/n: i been waitin for this one. TURN IT UP. i hope you guys like this slow burn reward, im happy with how this chapter came out. enjoy this before all the drama lol. love you all smsmsmsm.

Joel cuts you off, dips his head lower, his tongue dips into your entrance and when you whine and moan he trails higher, tasting you and gently sucking until he reaches your clit. You bite your lip in favor of screaming, and you can barely hear Joel whisper, like he’s in awe— “I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.” “What?” “Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars. 

There are times you wish texting was never invented. 

You like calling people — hearing their voice. The intonations of their words, knowing exactly what they’re thinking. 

But there are other times, you thank the lord for creating the form of communication — because you have no idea what to say to Joel. 

You stare down at your phone. The text’s words float through your mind. Trying to desperately figure out what to say. 

Your thumbs fiddle with each other, you bite your lip as you try and concentrate on a suitable text. Joel’s contact name just stares back at you, unmoving.

You: going to the store on my own, i don’t need your—

You delete that text quickly as you start making a pot of coffee. 

You: i don’t think we should go together—

You delete that one too. 

You run a hand over your forehead, swiping through your phone to get to Tommy’s text.

You slump against your kitchen counter when you realize you don’t know what to say to either Millers. You look out the window, it’s a nice day out, the sun shining through the early morning dew. The spot in front of your house stares back at you. The spot where Tommy was parked in last night. Where he had cut you off after his question, and begged you to consider it. 

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.” 

And when you hadn’t said anything—

“Please?” 

So you nodded, and you’re not sure why, but tears threatened to spill from your eyes, leaving the truck in disarray and falling asleep in much the same manner. 

When you woke up this morning, you hoped it had been a dream — his big brown eyes had never looked that desperate, and you know you fucked up by telling him you’ll think about it — when all you can think about is his brother. 

You stare back at Tommy’s messages and type in your own. 

You: can we talk in person?

You look at the words for a long time, before hitting send. You needed to clear the air as quickly as possible. 

You open Joel’s texts. The last couple ones just revolve around Sarah, pick up times, and what the plans were for dinner.

But the very last one, from last night — looks particularly menacing. Like it might grow wings and fangs and jump out of your phone. 

Joel M: Get home okay?

You sigh, ignoring his text and typing out your own. 

You: i think i’m gonna go shopping on my own soon. be by to drop off the stuff later

Whatever — you think to yourself before hitting send. 

_

You don’t even know what month it is. 

You hadn’t realized the calendars flicked to July, until you walked through the Party City and all the decorations you can find are red, white, and blue. The aisles are crowded, everyone getting last minute party favors and decorations in prep for Monday’s holiday.  

You find the birthday section, rifling through to get streamers, string lights, balloons, and banners. You smile to yourself when you find a small toy horse from that show Sarah likes. 

You put the toy into the basket.

The market is next, you haul ass to get as many two liters of soda you can carry, chips, and different snacks for the party. Tommy had managed to get a decent turn out from his RSVP (which was just a phone call asking if they could come) and you want to make sure there’s enough food for everyone. 

Your name being shouted from down the aisle snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s Janet Baker, one of the moms from Sarah’s soccer camp, she strides towards you pushing a cart full of hot dogs and buns. You distinctly remember seeing her at one of Sarah’s games. The one where Joel and Tommy both showed up, you, slotted to sit between them. 

“Hey, you!” she says, pulling you into an unexpected hug. 

“Oh! Hi, Mrs. Baker,” you reply shyly with a chuckle, her cart is abandoned when she gets a peek into yours. 

“Now, I told you to call me Janet, don’t be makin’ me feel old with all this ‘Mrs’ crap,” she chides, you smile, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, Janet,” you say with a chuckle. 

“What are you shoppin’ for missy? Fourth of July party?”

“Oh — uh —” you look down to your cart, “actually, Tommy’s birthday is tomorrow.” 

“...Tommy…?” she says, while looking up towards the sky. 

“Oh my god, sorry — Tommy Miller, Sarah’s uncle?” you say, trying to get it to ring a bell. She thinks for a long time, you’re about to say it’s not important but she cuts you off—

“That’s right! We met at that game last weekend,” she says, nodding her head, remembering the encounter. 

You remember that game. It was before all of these new — situations — with Joel. 

Sarah had come up to the three of you before the game started, a friend in tow. You were introduced to one of Sarah’s close accomplices, Katie. 

“Are you Mrs. Miller?” Katie had said, looking between you and Joel hesitantly. Your cheeks felt hot.

Joel stifled an awkward laugh beside you. Tommy was quiet.

“Oh, no, kiddo — ’M just Sarah’s nanny.” 

Tommy was silent the rest of the game. You don’t remember much after that. 

But you remember Janet, giving you a couple friendly smiles, when you introduced her to Tommy after the game had ended. The same smile she gives back to you right now.

“Yeah, just getting some decorations and food,” you say, pointing down towards your cart. 

“Well, aren’t you a sweet thing for throwin’ him a party.”

“I appreciate that, Janet. Why don’t you and your daughter come tomorrow, she can play with Sarah?”

“Oh, how nice of you to invite us. I sure hope Tommy’s okay with it,” she laughs. 

“He will be,” you say back, trying to match her enthused demeanor. Her bright eyes and almost obnoxious laugh make you chuckle to yourself a bit. 

She’s suddenly close to you, dipping into your personal space to whisper slyly so that no one else can hear her ask—

“Y’all aren’t datin’, right?” 

Your eyes widen. This woman’s timing is fucking impeccable, you’ll give her that. 

“No! Oh no, no, I’m just — I’m Sarah’s—” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sarah’s babysitter. But between you and me, sweetie —” she leans even lower, her hand coming to the side of her mouth like she’s telling you a secret. “ — even though you’re Sarah’s babysitter, all us moms think you look mighty nice next to Joel.” 

You don’t even know what to say, Janet’s eyebrow sticking up like she’s hinting at something. Jesus, it’s like she’s had a private viewing of your life this past week and she’s taking the footage and taunting you with it. 

“M-me? With…?”

“Joel. Yes, doll—” she says, like now it’s her turn to get you to remember one of the Miller brothers, “—we see the way he looks at you.” 

“No — I think you might be mistaken, Janet—”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll see it soon too.”

_

Joel’s door stares back at you. 

You have all the bags in your hands, the plastic of the handle turns your fingertips white from the pressure of the two liters pulling it down, but you can’t bring yourself to knock. 

Not until you hear some movement from inside — not wanting him to catch you waiting outside his door like a creep. You kick the door a little with your shoe in place of freeing a hand to knock. 

Joel opens the door, his eyes widening at your state. 

“Jesus, what are you—” he cuts himself off with his movements, bending down to take the bags from your hands, though you protest. 

“I got it, Joel, just—” 

He takes the bags from you anyways. 

“Should’ve called me,” he mumbles while turning towards the kitchen counter, leaving you in the doorway sans the six bags you struggled to pick up all on your own. 

“Sorry. I —” 

You don’t really know what you’re apologizing for. 

“Thanks,” you say when he puts the bags on the table and begins to unpack them. You move to help him, opening up the fridge for some of the food. 

“What’s this?” he says, pulling out the toy horse for Sarah. 

“Oh. It's for Sarah. ‘S the horse from that show she likes.” 

He stares at you for a long time, before looking down towards the toy in his hand. 

“You got this for her?” 

“Yeah,” you say, confused as to why he seems surprised you got her a toy. 

“She’ll like that. Thanks,” he says, setting the toy on the dinner table and rifling through more stuff until it’s just decorations left in the bags.

“She’s at her sleepover?” you ask, looking around the living room at any signs of life. 

“Mhm,” Joel replies from the kitchen.

You wait in silence for a while, unsure of how to proceed. Normally you would probably just ask him if he wants to set up some decorations but this is far from normal. 

“You wanted to go without me?” he asks, when you stop walking around and stand in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want it to get too late, since Sarah was here…sorry” you say. You try to keep the hurt out of your voice. 

“‘S fine, I…wanted to—” he shakes his head, organizing his thoughts before changing the subject. It sort of surprises you — but it seems like this has been on his mind all day. “You didn’t answer my text. Had to call Tommy last night.” 

“Oh.” 

Shit. 

He sounds so fucking worried it almost makes you sick. 

“‘M sorry. It was a—long night.” 

“You got back okay? No issues?” 

Yeah. No fucking issues except your brother asked me out. 

You think you should say something. Not like Joel has the right to know, but it’s the right thing to do in your eyes regardless. 

“Did Tommy tell you…?”

“Did Tommy tell me what?”

Fuck. 

“He—uh—um,” his eyebrow lifts at your words, you can barely get the sentence out, your pulse thrumming with each second you stall with stuttering. 

“He asked me out. Last night.” 

Joel looks at you. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen that look in his eye. Like he’s the embodiment of disappointment. Like he doesn’t know what to do with his face, let alone his hands, his body. 

The warm sunlight peeking in through the window starts making you sweat the longer he stands looking at you. When he finally speaks you can barely hear him — the drawl you love so much, quiet and blanketed under an emotion you can’t place. 

“Tommy?” 

“Yeah.” 

He nods like he’s trying to collect his thoughts. Though, it only makes you more scared from the uncertainty of his words and actions. But surprisingly he doesn’t act out at all, he just gives you an emotionless face and words that seem harmless, but cut through your skin. 

“Oh. Happy f’you two.” 

“No—I—” 

“Nah—’s…’s good.” 

“Stop, Joel—” 

He stops. But you’re not entirely sure he’s listening very clearly. 

“I didn’t say yes. He told me to…think about it.” 

“And?”

“And I wanted to talk to you.” 

“About?”

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, exasperated. Your hand comes up to your forehead. “About last night? About…?” 

Everything. You want to say. But fall short. 

“What about last night?”

God, was this all in your head? It certainly didn’t feel like that at the bar. Nor on the front porch when he almost kissed you, or on the phone that same fatal night. 

“Joel,” you plead with him, your voice breaking a bit. He breaks your eye contact when you say his name, almost like it hurts him to hear you say it. This game you two are playing right now is fucking ridiculous, an old tired version of the one from last night, in front of the bar. 

“There’s nothing to talk—” 

“Don’t do that. You can’t just fucking—” you almost laugh. 

Who the hell is this guy in front of you? You continue, even through your ragged breaths and tears that now stain your cheeks.

“You can’t. Don’t—”

“He’s my brother.”

“So? I knew you before any of this—” 

“He’s my brother.” 

His loud voice cuts off any thoughts you had forming. You wait for a while, trying to understand what he means by that — maybe this is some petty competition they have going and Joel feels like he’s losing. You don’t know what to think of their dynamic anymore.

“I can’t just ignore it,” you say. You hate how your voice sounds so small. “I didn’t want it like this,” you say, more tears falling, you try to wipe them away quickly, embarrassed to cry in front of him.

“You think I do?” his rhetorical question lingers in the air when you don’t respond. “That fuckin’ day you met Tommy, he—” Joel can’t even look at you anymore. 

“He asked me if I — liked you — or whatever, ‘n I said no. You and I were done. We had just decided it was over.” 

“So you’re just gonna throw this away because he called dibs?”

“I ain’t throwin’ anythin’ away—” he shakes his head. “I don’t wanna throw this away.”

“Right. Like last night?” 

“So this is about Caroline? I told you that I don’t like her — it was a fuckin’ set up.”

“This is not about Caroline,” you could almost laugh. 

He gives you a knowing look. You both know this is definitely not about Caroline.

“‘M sorry. About last night, ‘bout everythin’, but you left,” Joel says, “You wanted to leave. I—I wasn’t gonna stop you.” 

“I thought you were gonna come with me.”

That shuts him up. He looks at you with a slack jaw, like he was going to say something already braced on his tongue but at your response, he became speechless. Like your sentence smacked the words out of his own mouth. 

“I wanted you to come with me,” you say, softer this time. “And then you—fucking—left me and got Tommy.” 

“Tommy was—”

“I didn’t want Tommy. I don’t want Tommy.” you say, your voice breaking more with each confession. “But you wanted to hand me off to him—”

“C’mon. ‘F course that’s not what I wanted. You know that.”

“Then what? Because this isn’t a game to me, Joel.”

“‘S not a game,” he forces out, like he’s tired of playing too. “It was never a game.”

You stay silent, taken back by his words. You can tell his head is spinning, not really sure of what to say or rather, how to articulate his feelings. 

“This is — you’re fucking…Jesus, I don’t know,” he starts, but begins to pace around the room, unable to finish. 

You stay silent, watching him walk around slowly until he’s rooted right in front of you, closer than before. 

“‘S a mess. Tommy is — you’re gonna break his heart because this is —”

You raise your eyebrows, pleading with him to continue, to finally say what he’s been thinking about since you two met at the bar. 

“This is real. You’re real.”

Your heartbeat bangs in your ears, he’s closer than before. You don’t remember when he got so close. Close enough that when he talks after an unbearable silence, you can feel his breath on your nose. 

“But you don’t know. You don’t see — any of it.”

“I see you, I —” you can’t get much out because your breath hitches. Big brown eyes stare back into yours. “Help me — show me,” you hiccup out while his hot breath catches your eyelashes. 

His hand reaches down, like last night, pulling you closer, this time, you let him. His fingers sprawl out across your cheeks, feeling your neck, his big brown eyes pulling you in. He's a bit more breathless than you if that’s even possible. You keep blinking like you’re scared it might be a dream. 

You look up at him. For the first time in a while your gaze isn’t cut short by wandering eyes or loud interrupting voices. 

He dips down, his lips just barely touching yours, letting you make the final move towards him, kissing him, tasting him. It might be silly, but you remember his taste from all the weeks before. It feels like yesterday when he moans a bit in your mouth, and your hands fly to his chest to steady your shaky knees. 

He breaks away first, you’re both panting into each other, like you’ve just surfaced from being underwater for so long — maybe you have been. 

But he doesn’t say anything, only takes your hand in his and with a couple panting sighs, pulls you towards the stairs, towards his bedroom. He looks at you with a silent question etched on his face. 

You nod before you know what’s happening, and he’s whisking you off into his room. You’ve never been in his room before, upstairs, sure, to help Sarah with things. But his room was unspokenly off limits. It smells like him, and as the tears reside and the genuine want rushes over you, it seems like he’s one step ahead of you, closing the door, and guiding you back towards the bed. 

He’s kissing you, it’s sloppy but calculated at the same time. So much pent up frustrations and wandering eyes seemed to break at the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands running up and down your body. 

You’re moaning and whimpering into his mouth, almost desperate despite always trying to remain stoic. But who are you kidding, it’s Joel. 

“Please,” you bite when his mouth trails kisses down your neck and even more so when he slips your top off, catching your nipple in his hot mouth. 

“Joel,” you whine again, when all he does is hum against your sensitive bud. 

“Baby,” he says, and you notice the drawl is back. Like it never left, rich and honeyed — matching what you imagine every night before bed — hell — every waking moment. 

You’re naked before you muster the brain power to notice him taking your clothes off. He doesn’t bother with his clothes, almost like he’s too eager to see you, forgetting about himself. You claw at his flannel but he pushes your hands back and over your head, rending your arms useless. 

His other hand reaches down, finding your aching cunt dripping onto the gray bed sheets and he genuinely groans at the feeling. Brooding Joel Miller reduced to a moaning mess at the feeling of you wet and hot for him. The thought drives you up the walls a bit. 

“Fuckin’ wet, so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart,” he grumbles more to himself than to you. 

He runs his fingers over your outer lips while mouthing at your neck — you whimper and squirm under his grasp but his hand just holds yours harder. It might — no, it definitely will leave bruises on your wrists the next morning, but you could care less. The biting pain of it shoots right down to that white hot burn in your lower stomach. 

“Quit movin’,” he says while beginning to trail down, almost like a warning for when he releases your wrists and settles in between your legs. He pants hot breath onto your swollen folds and despite his warning, you squirm underneath him. Joel seems a bit too desperate to tell you to stop or punish you otherwise. 

When his lips place a hesitant kiss to your clit you almost scream, forcing his head in between your thighs and when he stops, you realize you might be squeezing him too tight. You sit up a bit, releasing your thighs when he stops and looks up at you. 

“‘M sorry — shit — I — no one’s ever…I’m sorry, Joel—” 

“‘M fine, lay back down.”

You do lay back down, but you're hesitant. 

“No one ever do this to you, baby?” he asks, smiling up at you from between your legs, your face feels hot and you hide a shy smile. He mouths at your thighs and places a few gentle kisses to your folds. 

“No, I — I guess not.” 

“It feel good?”

“Good? Joel it feels fucking—” 

Joel cuts you off, dips his head lower, his tongue dips into your entrance and when you whine and moan he trails higher, tasting you and gently sucking until he reaches your clit. You bite your lip in favor of screaming, and you can barely hear Joel whisper, like he’s in awe—

“I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.”

“What?”

“Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars. 

His mouth feels like a shot. Your grip in his hair, more like the chaser, grounding you back to the bed, his bed. In his room. The bite of him seeping through every corner of your body, his flat tongue pulling your fast approaching orgasm out of you so quickly you forget your name. 

“Joel, I—” 

You shut up because you think he knows, his hum against you sending vibrations through your clit, his wide palms coming up to grasp at your thighs until the spasms from your orgasm cease. 

He keeps going even after you come down from your high, mouthing at your entrance which seems to get even wetter after you come. He snakes back up to kiss you, you moan into his mouth at the taste of your own slick all over his lips. 

The feeling of his clothed length pressed into your all too sensitive cunt makes the wanting need spark back up, like he’s blowing hot air onto a fire starter, and it just ignited. 

“Need you,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, his hands coming to grab your breasts, he’s everywhere, and you need more. And you need it now. 

He pulls back at your words, a darker look on his face. You remember this look from the bathroom, when he asked you to beg for his cock, his name, and to cum inside your hot cunt. 

“I — I don’t think I can be gentle, baby — I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“Please, want it rough,” you tell him, looking back into his brown eyes, almost pleading. 

I just need you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he says with your final words, your permission. Joel suddenly hauls you up towards the head of the bed so you’re resting against his pillows. He shucks off his flannel and t-shirt, undoing the belt buckle of his pants in such a timely manner, if you weren’t watching him intently you might’ve missed it. 

He’s kissing you, rubbing his cock through the slick of your folds, you remember the punch of his girth and how the length of his cock almost kissed your cervix, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be prepared for that feeling, especially now, when you’re pent up, and tense and you just need him. 

“God, feel fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he says, running the tip of his cock through your folds, when it hits your clit you buck up against him, but he falters. 

“Easy.”

His voice, his drawl, a bit darker, but you’re not scared. Like he said before, he can’t go easy, he can’t be gentle. You don’t want him to, anyway. 

But what surprises you is when the tip of his cock comes to fit snug against your entrance, he falters. Almost like he’s asking the final permission, in a dark drawl that might almost sound whiny if he wasn’t so brooding—

“Can I? Please?”

“Yes. Joel, yes, please — ngh —” he cuts you off, sinking into your heat with a tight thrust, you’re surprised at the stretch of his length, it’s like he barely fits. 

“What…Jesus — you —?” 

“Didn’t touch myself much,” you admit, knowing what he’s saying; How are you so fucking tight? 

“Was trying not to think — ngh — about you.” 

Your face feels a bit hot when you remember your phone call half a week ago. It was one of the first times following the night at the bar you touched yourself, and there was definitely no time to see anyone in the last couple weeks. 

Joel can evidently feel that too, groaning when he sinks in to the hilt, his breath punching somewhere near your ear, his hand bruising your waist with the force that he grips you with. 

“You gotta relax, baby, I —” 

“Please just — move, Joel,” he laughs a bit at your neediness, but it’s cut off with a groan as he moves, retreating a fraction of an inch before pushing back in, rending your breathless, boneless. 

He picks up his pace when you start to relax around him, mold to him, like he’s the only one who will ever fit inside you. His groans and grunts are no match to mask your whimpers, his praises ring through your head, you feel weightless. 

“Fuckin’ perfect, angel,” he groans, you claw at his back, probably leaving scratch marks but you’re too fucked out to care. “Just like I remembered.”

It feels like old times. Before all this mess, before the incident in the car, on the porch, outside the bar. Before Tommy, or Caroline, or Janet fucking Baker. Before everything. Before all the laters and everything unsaid. Like old times. Like he’s saying Hi for the first time and not Goodbye like he has been for the last week. 

His grip on your waist tightens if possible — so much for wearing a bikini tomorrow at the party. The bite of his fingers almost snap you out of it, but he feels so good, teetering you right on the edge of painful as he spears into you with no remorse. It’s like he can’t help himself, and he probably can’t considering all the blue balls over the last few weeks. 

For some reason that spurs you on further, your orgasm quickly approaches with each stab of his fingertips digging into you, his hot breath near your face, and the feeling of coarse hair nudging at your clit just right. 

“J-Joel,” you moan, but you don’t think you have to tell him you’re close. You know he can feel it. 

“Missed you so much – fuck, baby,” he groans, placing hot kisses on your neck, “Needed you. Needed this.” 

“Joel—” it’s already braced on your lips, you both know it. An unspoken ritual that feels way too possessive for either of your own good — but you say it anyways and he groans all the same. 

“Can I cum? Joel, please?” 

You don’t really hear much aside from his small yes and your vision blinks white as you moan out long and deep into his ear. He fucks you through it, grunting out praises when he feels you get impossibly tight around him. 

It might even be too much but you don’t care. 

You wait for him, your aftershocks sending him closer to his own release as his hips stutter and he gets out one last demand that sends him over the edge. 

“Say it’s me — sweetheart. Please,” he groans, almost begging. Like it’s the last thing that will push him towards bliss. 

“‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you,” you comply and feel him groan and shudder when his orgasm rolls through him. You can feel the hot stickiness of it roll through you, and he holds himself up to whisper one last thing to you before you both slump onto the bed and fall asleep. 

“Tell him no. Tell him — just — just be with me.” 

You nod, panting, he finally falls into the crook of your neck and you welcome it graciously, pulling at his curls until you fall asleep. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

_

chapter vi. bruises

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @akah565 @going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @defnotashifter @missgurrl @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88

@rainbowcosmicchaos @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @untamedheart81 @hellaradd @josephine1837 @noisynightmarepoetry @lawh0re @joelsversion @vanillen @brujitafantomatico @cartoon-garbage04 @jpbplvr @whattownheadshake @beccerjune @pedrotonin @sen-mirjahaal @awesomebunnyqueen @bluetattoos @sunnysaphira @vickywallace @bbyanarchist @gossipgirl-03 @casa-boiardi

@anavatazes @joeldjarin @l0vem3n @brinabees @lmariephoto37 @tsunamistorm123 @splicer13vex @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @withasideofmeg @dinwifey

[your-nanas-house]

hi dear, I just got another idea about Robert Fisher and his coquette girlfriend🎀

Hello, darling! LOVELY, just watched the perfect movie today and damn... I got another one with Cillian X coquette girlfriend as well. Can't wait to start writing it. 🙇🏼‍♀️💕

Unwritten

◇ Pairing: Robert Fischer x coquette girlfriend!Reader

◇ Warnings: FLUFF, love, Robert is a puppy in love, spoilers of the movie "Anyone but you", didn't went into details with the coquette style of Y/n but I will in the next fic

◇ Summary: Y/n is smitten with the last movie she saw and Robert makes the best of the situation.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. It's purely based/inspired on "Anyone but you"... watched it today and damn... my tiny heart. 😭 Also credits to the owners for the pics I found on Pinterest.

(This is the song, I listened it in loop while writing this quickly)

Robert's girlfriend had been singing the same song on repeat for almost three weeks, talking about and comparing the things that happened in their daily routine with the movie she went to see with her friends one Friday night.

The business man wasn't bothered by this, he found it very amusing... especially because Y/n was so cute when she did it.

She had a secret pass that allowed her to do everything with him, being always forgiven because of how adorable she was.

It was always like that, since they started dating.

The song had almost become their song, it echoed softly in Robert's head when he least expected it... even during work meetings.

And it all kept bringing him back to the cute image of his girlfriend dancing around the house in her pink dresses, little bows adorning her hair and beautiful smile plastered on her pretty face.

She was so cute and devoted to that movie that it was a must for him to watch it as well so that he could understand better what she kept rambling about with big adoring eyes and her tiny pout decorated by lip glosses.

.

Just a couple of days after Robert managed to watch the movie Y/n was so smitten of, an idea crossed his mind.

It was since months now that he wanted to says the scary three words that people say when they are in a relationship and just feel those awesome but worrying butterflies in the stomach.

He just needed to find the right moment.. and what better moment than one created for her... based on the film.

That was Robert’s plan and the main reason he was waiting at the port, checking his watch while waiting for Y/n. After they had a lovely evening, ate dinner at a delicious restaurant and just spent time together before going for a walk and end the night with a romantic ride on a yacht with the moon in the sky smiling at them.

.

The date was just going perfectly, Robert couldn’t stop watching Y/n who was now standing at the bow... a soft smile on her face as the soft wind caressed her skin, moving her baby pink dress in a dreamlike way.

Her hair were moving slowly as well, making it seem like she just walked out of a perfume advertising even though Y/n was secretly trying not to gag because of her hair going anywhere they wanted.

She slowly turned around to see where her Robert was, a bright smile on her face so big that would have melted anyone... the australian man as well since his stomach was already filled with butterflies and his legs felt like jelly... Weak enough to make him loose balance and fall in the water of the sea.

As the water surrounded his body, the rational part of him woke up again... thoughts of how stupid the plan was crossed his mind but quickly left as soon as he felt two hands grab him and bring him back to surface.

His baby blue eyes met Y/n's as soon as he could open them and a shock of pure love hit his whole body.

She really just jumped off the yachts to "save" him.. ruining her pretty dress and makeup for him.

Robert was too stunned and dazed to realize what she was doing, coming back to reality just when she made sure he was on the floating buoy before climbing on it as well.

Her face was flushed and her look of worry was quite evident.. her whole state was noticeable and Robert was feeling a bit guilty for what he did.. hoping silently that it was worth it.

"Oh my god, baby. Are you okay?" Y/n asked quickly, fixing his hair before stroking his wet, cold cheeks in an attempt to calm herself and him.

Her mouth opened again to ask him another question after he just stared at her, not answering her question; but before she could do that the man opted for leaning in and kiss her.

Their lips molding together perfectly, fitting like the last pieces of a puzzle, till the rescue helicopter approached, warning them before throwing the harnesses.

As they both put them on and jumped off the buoy, their body pressed together, her arms went quickly around his neck as his hands grabbed her hips tightly and protectively.

The robe kept being pulled up while they hang on the water, an amazing and romantic view surrounding them... not that they could really see it since Y/n was holding her eyes tightly close, adrenaline and anxiety filling her body, while Robert could just stare at her with love.

That's when he took a deep breath and started to sing the song just like in the movie, his eyes never leaving her face.

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

His singing skills weren't so good but the pure shock and surprise that appeared on Y/n's face was enough to smooth his nervousness a bit so that he could continue to sing the song while waiting for her to join.

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

Their soft laughters interrupted the lyrics, their noses kept brushing softly against each other as they both kept giggling till they died down.

Robert's forehead pressed softly against hers as he fixed her pink wet bow before meeting her eyes again... his hand traveling slowly down on her cheek, his thumb caressing her cold skin in a tender way in an attempt to gather the courage to finally speak.

"Y/n..." He started, brushing his finger against her bottom lip softly while he stared directly in her loving eyes

"I.. I love you".

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Mile High Club

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.6k

Summary: You and Wanda go on vacation

A/N: ✈️

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst

“What are you reading?”

Your wife turns to you with a curious look as she shifts to get more comfortable next to you. She’d been gazing out the window and you had to admit it was a pretty sight. The sun was starting to set and it looked beautiful over the horizon of clouds that floated closer to you than you’d ever be again. The two of you were taking a trip to Europe to visit the villa Wanda had recently purchased in Southern Italy. Technically she and her brother had bought it together one night when they’d had too much to drink, but she wasn’t going to tell you that.

You’re smiling as you turn your tablet toward your wife who still couldn’t tell what you’re reading, but you fill her in.

“It’s that supernatural thriller I was telling you about? Spirts help solve a murder, that sort of thing.”

Wanda hums at this as she leans closer to you with a sigh. She knows they have at least four hours until they’re in Italy, but she’s getting restless. She stifles a yawn as she looks around the room from where the two of you lounge on the bed. There’s still a lot of food on the dresser for you to snack on before dinner, but Wanda would rather stay in bed with you for a while. She’s tired from work as usual, but this last month had been killer. Literally. She’d had to deal with a rival attempting to take her out. She’d tried to kill her at least three times, and the last close call had landed her in medical for a few days. You’d insisted that she take a break from work to recover fully and just to get away, and she hadn’t argued.

“I’m so glad to be getting away with you.”

Wanda says this as she snuggles up next to you, and you smile before putting your tablet down with a sigh. You’d been relieved when Wanda agreed to take a trip because the last few weeks had been very stressful for you. You’d been distracted at work because the idea of your wife facing assassination attempts didn't sit well with you. You were worried and after each one of them you plotted how you could get your wife to hide until her competitor could be killed. You should have known that Wanda would insist on dealing with it herself, but now that balance was restored you were dragging your wife to Italy kicking and screaming if you had to.

Luckily, she was glad to be leaving, and you barely had to convince her to let Steve and Bucky stay back and handle the aftermath of this past month. You were going to enjoy the next couple of weeks and relax if it killed you.

“Me too. You are very overdue for a break, my love.”

Your hand absentmindedly travels to the barely healed wound that’s hidden beneath Wanda’s shirt. You try not to dwell on that night. You don’t want to think about the events that unraveled after that dreaded phone call. You didn't want to think about the time you’d spent in medical camped out beside Wanda’s bed as you waited for her to wake up from her most recent assassination attempt. You’d gone through the entire spectrum of emotions when you’d seen her passed out and bloodied in that damn bed.

You don’t realize that your mind had drifted precisely where you hadn’t wanted it to go until you feel Wanda’s fingers against your cheek. She brushes your hair out of your face with a look of understanding and regret. She always hated to put you through any sort of distress, and she’d only felt extraordinarily guilty when she’d finally woken up only to find you passed out beside her. She had decided then and there that she would do whatever you asked of her. Luckily it had just been a request for a vacation.

When Wanda leans in to kiss you, your mind is cleared of the unpleasant memories and replaced by the here and now. You focus on how your wife tastes like the expensive wine that you could honestly drink like water. How her fingers tug at your shirt as she leans back against the bed, and pulls you on top of her. You find it easy to get lost in the feeling of your wife beneath you. You follow her direction and press your lips against her neck after throwing her shirt somewhere behind you. Wanda would usually say something about this, but she’s too busy removing your shirt and leaving you bare to bother.

You’re too distracted by the view to hear what Wanda says, but you realize later that it was something complimentary that would have made you blush. You can’t count how many times you’ve gotten to see your wife like this, but you are certain that you’ll never grow tired of it. You certainly hope you’ll never grow complacent either.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You barely registered the responding smile before Wanda rolls you over onto your back. You feel your breath catch, but you can’t say for certain if it’s from the impact or the sight of your wife hovering over you. The disappearing sun streams in from the window just enough to bathe the lower half of Wanda’s face in a cool golden glow. You see her lips part and you can’t stop yourself from shivering at the feeling of her fingers trailing down your skin.

The herculean effort it takes to frown ends up being worth it when your wife responds with a smile so bright, you’re momentarily dazed.

“This was supposed to be about you.”

Wanda’s not sure where you got this idea, but she shakes her head as she sighs contently. She loves having you underneath her and she doesn’t plan on changing this any time soon. She hums under her breath as she waits for you to settle. When you release a sigh of defeat Wanda can’t help but smile triumphantly.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

You want to roll your eyes, but there really isn’t any point. When your wife wants something, she’s going to do what it takes to get it. Short of you out-right refusing her, you have a feeling she’s going to get her way as usual. In this case, you’re not sure you can pretend to be bothered by this. Even if you did want to go first.

The sun’s long gone and the moonless sky keeps the room comfortably dark by the time you and Wanda settle in for the last hour of your flight. You’re sure you’ll have to hunt for your tablet later, having heard it hit the ground a while ago, but you can’t be bothered to care at the moment. You’re too comfortable near sleep with Wanda held close to you as she naps on and off.

You’d originally said that you would try to get on Europe time during the flight, but you figure you'll have plenty of time to work that out once you get there. You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear Wanda mutter something under her breath. You miss it because you’d been thinking about Gelato and pasta, but you quickly tune back in with a confused look.

“What was that?”

Wanda smiles at you as if she knows exactly where your mind had gone, but she doesn’t comment on it right now. She turns slightly so she’s facing you and drops a hand on your waist.

“I’ve never done that before.”

You hold back your urge to tell her that she most certainly has, and instead you take a moment to read between the lines. You look around the dark room once again before you decide to ask what your wife means. She merely smiles before confirming your suspicion that she’s never had sex on a plane before. You offer her a serious nod before leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“Well allow me to welcome you to the club babe. It’s great to have you here.”

Wanda’s laugh makes your smile widen and you just wait patiently as she turns completely so she’s face to face with you. She shoots you a curious look that clues you in to what she’s going to ask before she even opens her mouth.

“You’re a member already, are you?”

You can’t help but laugh in response because the mere idea of you having the chance, or desire to do this before Wanda seems incomprehensible. Wanda watches you closely as she waits for you to explain.

“Yes actually. As of an hour ago at least.”

Wanda rolls her eyes and shakes her head before mumbling something against your chest. You don’t catch what she says, but you’re not too worried about it right now. You feel your muscles start to ache in a way that makes you realize you should really take a nap. You don’t want to be exhausted when you arrive because you and Wanda are going to hit the ground running. You’d made a comment about going to the store and then immediately disappearing into the villa for the unforeseeable future.

You lie down so you’re resting on a pillow, but you keep your arms around your wife who still has her head ducked down against you. You sigh heavily as you close your eyes and will yourself to sleep. When you wake up, hopefully you and Wanda will be one step closer to your much-needed relaxation.

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