#i am so down bad for joe you all have no idea

[bluebellthesponge]

glare i hate you

also trying to paint a low quality screen shot is perhaps not the best idea

[babybluebex]

bad idea, right? | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? // aka your ex joseph conveniently texts you to come over just as you're missing him, and who can say no to those eyes? pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader tags: SMUT (minors dni), thigh riding, teasing, confessions of love, bareback (USE A CONDOM IRL PLEASE!!!), no ejaculation (it's ok, you'll see, just read it) author’s note: i am BACK with a new joe fic, i have been thinking about him NONSTOP ever since miss olivia dropped this song, and it's taken me forever to write this but here we are :) enjoy! follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post new fics!

This was such a bad idea. No, it wasn’t a bad idea. It was the worst idea, one of the worst things you have maybe ever done. That bar wasn’t set too high, but the point remained. It was stupid and bad, and you just shouldn’t be doing it. And yet, here you are. 

You had been out drinking with your friends, ironically trying to get over Joseph. He was a good man— good enough, at least— and had been a relatively good boyfriend to you, but he was different than everyone else and was itching for more than you were, a family and a life and shit, and you had just wanted to have fun with him, so you had broken it off with him. The breakup had initially happened a few months ago, but your friends had never been able to drag you out of your flat and to a bar until then. There was nothing to mourn, you tried to tell them. We just wanted different things and split amicably, there’s no bad blood there that I need to drink to get over. 

Around 11 o’clock or so, your phone buzzed on the bar top, and you glanced down to see a text from a number that your phone didn’t recognize, but you knew all too well. I’m lonely, it said. Would you like to come over? 

Your friends were absorbed in their conversation, so you put down your vodka soda and typed out a reply. Joe, you know that’s a bad idea. 

I moved. Do you need my new address? 

You sighed. Yeah, I do. 

There was something about Joseph that you couldn’t place, but it made him irresistible. He was magnetic, he was charismatic, he was attractive and funny and kind, he was everything, but he just wasn’t what you wanted or needed for your relationship. He wanted kids; you didn’t. That was it. He was so irresistible, though, that there was no question about the fact that you would wreck your plans to see him. 

“Hey, I gotta go,” you told your friends, and they all booed and awed and asked what was going on. 

“Wait,” one of your friends started. “Are you going to see Joe?”

You scoffed, in a way that you hoped conveyed how crazy you thought that was. “No,” you said. “My social battery just ran out all of the sudden. Long day at work, and I’ve got another long one tomorrow and… You know how it is.” 

“Alright,” your friend said with a pout. “Be safe, alright? Let us know when you get home.” 

You agreed and, with a few hugs and kisses, you went on your way. Joseph had texted you his new address and you plugged it into your Uber app, and, the whole ride there, your leg was jiggling and you were nervous. It was just Joe, it wasn’t like you were going to meet some random guy you met online (although Joe had started out as some random Hinge match). You had dated him for two years, you knew him, so why were you nervous? 

He was grinning at you when you reached his place on the second floor, an easy sort of smile that you remembered loving. “Hi,” he said softly, reaching out for you, and you took his hands, smiling back at him. 

“Hey,” you said. “So, this is your new place, right?”

“Yeah,” Joseph said with a shrug. “It’s not much, but it’s alright.” 

You stepped inside and set down your bag next to the door, along with your jacket and shoes, and you examined the front room. The new flat was definitely smaller than the one you had shared together, the kitchen all smushed up next to the den, with the smallest hallway leading down to the bathroom and bedroom, and you settled on the couch easily. “I like it,” you said, your eyes going to his bookcase next to his television. A biography of Caracalla sat open, and you shook your head. “It’s cute. Very you.” 

“Thank you, love,” Joseph said. He sat down beside you and put his arm along the back of the couch behind you, and you inched a little closer to him. 

“Isn’t it a little… Silly?” you started, and you began to chew on your lip. 

“What is?” Joseph asked. 

“This dumb little dance we have to do,” you said. “Like we both don’t know why I’m here. We have to pretend, like, ‘Oh, I like your apartment’, ‘Oh, how have you been’, y’know?” 

“Well, we don’t have to pretend,” Joseph said. “We can just… Get started.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “But I don’t wanna, like, just come over and fuck and leave.”

“So…” Joseph started. “You want genuine small talk?”

You shrugged. “I guess,” you said. “How have you been?”

“Honestly,” Joseph started. “Pretty bad. I’m so used to coming home and having you here, I find myself so lonely and bored and… I don’t know. It’s been a few months, I thought I’d get over… Whatever this is.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “I’ve been missing you a lot too. I miss our old apartment… The bathtub was so nice and big.” 

“Yeah,” Joseph chuckled. “You remember when we took a bubble bath together and lit candles? That was nice.”

“Yeah,” you agreed wistfully. It went quiet then, both of you trying to avoid the obvious, and you finally sighed. “This is a bad idea, right?” 

“Probably,” Joseph said. You looked over at him to find him already looking at you with those damned chocolate puppy eyes, and you tilted your head a bit, your eyes lingering on his lips. That’s something that you missed about him; he was a damn good kisser. 

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you said quickly, and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. His arm around your shoulders dragged you close to him, and he kissed you back, letting his lips mold against yours. You moaned softly, taking in the familiar taste of him, and you shuffled to sit across his lap. His hands went to their usual spots in the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing and kneading your ass as his tongue slipped inside your mouth, and you raked your fingers through his hair. You don’t remember him doing his hair across his forehead like this the last time you saw him, but maybe he did, but it really didn’t matter. He was hot as fuck, and he wanted you. 

“Fuck,” Joseph whispered as he broke the kiss. His focus went to your smooth neck, kissing and lightly sucking and making you moan again, and his hands drifted out of your back pockets and went to the front of your pants, popping the button open with ease. “Pretty girl…” he mumbled, and you giggled as he started to edge your pants down. The angle was awkward, definitely, and you shuffled to stand up and take down your pants. Joseph dipped down on the couch a little to pull off his sweatpants (grey, soft, the kind you once told him make his dick look good), and he discarded them to the side as you straddled one of his big thighs. This was always one of his favorite things, having you ride his thigh, and he looked gleeful when he realized that that’s what you were doing. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, and you smiled, flexing your hips down and starting to drag yourself along his hard thigh. 

“I remember you liked this,” you told him, and Joseph’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, letting his head fall back as you started up a rhythm, letting yourself glide along his leg. He mumbled and cursed, his big hands falling to your hips, but he didn’t control you; he was just holding you, feeling you, loving on you. 

“I do,” he mumbled. “God… Yes, sweet girl, just like that.” 

You whimpered as your clit brushed your stretched panties, and Joseph looked up, a sly smile on his lips. You loved when he watched you, and you made sure to move your body smoothly— all the better of a show for him. “Yeah,” he mumbled, biting his plush bottom lip. “That feel good?” 

You hummed out a positive sound, digging your fingernails into his shoulders through his jumper. “God, Joey,” you sighed, and you lilted your head to watch him as his eyelashes fluttered and he sighed with you. "Missed you."

"I missed this too," Joseph said. "Take off your panties, I wanna feel you."

You couldn't help but oblige him, and you lifted yourself from his leg and stripped off your modest underwear (you weren't exactly thinking ahead when you got dressed to go out, and you certainly weren't expecting Joe to text you). The feel of his warm skin on your pussy made your stomach swim with butterflies, and you put your hands on the back of his neck, just at where the curls ended. God, those curls. You pulled him into a kiss and moaned into his mouth, and you tugged on his curls to make him whine.

"Don't tease me, baby," he told you in a low voice, and you smiled and continued on your path, absolutely set on teasing him now. Your hips slowed, and you nestled your mouth right in the crook of his neck, setting soft kisses on his skin. "Oh, fuck, you're an evil woman, did you know that?"

"Yeah, well," you shrugged noncommittally, and Joe grabbed you around your waist and pulled you off of him. Roughly— rougher than usual?— he pushed you down onto the couch, and he settled himself on top of you, his thick thighs caging you in. You watched greedily as he righted himself and stripped off his jumper, exposing the little soft hairs on his chest; now, without the baggy jumper, you could fully see his hardening cock, rising to lay against his tummy.

"Like what you see?" Joe chuckled lightly, and you realized just how hard you had been staring at him.

"How could I not?" you asked. You reached out for his cock, taking his length in your hand, and you stroked him easily, base to tip, squeezing when you got closer to his balls— just the way he liked. He hissed in a sharp breath through his teeth as his eyes grew three times their size, and you smiled.

"Thought you'd've forgotten about that," Joe laughed breathlessly, and he edged back on the couch, aligning his hips with yours. Apparently, it seemed as if speed was the name of the game tonight, and it almost hurt your heart to think that he just wanted to hook up with you. You knew that coming to his place wouldn't end with a reconfession of love and for him begging for you to stay, but it stung to know that he was just trying to get you out as quickly as possible.

"I could never forget," you said, hoping that he could see through your words and see your teary eyes, hear your thick throat, feel your loss. You loved him, and the breakup hurt, but it was better being apart. But was it really?

"I wouldn't want you to," Joe told you, and he pursed his lips for a moment before he spit down onto your pussy. "You think I can ever forget you?"

You lined up the head of his cock with your hole, watching as he throbbed in your hand, and he sank his hips forward. The feel of the stretch had you gasping, and you moaned as he slid inside you, nestling perfectly. "Hey," Joe said firmly, and you looked up from the show to see him earnestly staring down at you, his eyes... Wet? Tearful? "You don't think I could ever forget you, do you?" he asked, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"Not now, Joe," you mumbled.

"Yes, now," Joe insisted.

"You're inside me," you protested, and Joe gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly as he began to fuck you. The pleasure made your breath hitch, and Joe buried his face in your neck, kissing the slender column of your throat.

"We can talk and fuck at the same time," Joe said. "God knows we've done worse and fucked at the same time."

"But talk about this?" you asked. "Joey—"

"I can't sleep without you," he said softly. "Every time I wake up alone, my first thought is that you're using the toilet and that you'll be right back. I can hardly relax without your feet in your side... You really did take up the whole of the bed."

"Joe—" you started again, but he shook his head, his curls thwipping you in the face.

"And I can't eat," he continued. "I miss your cooking, and what's the point of eating anyway if you're not gonna steal bits of it off my plate?"

"Don't say that," you frowned. You were still acutely aware of his cock inside you, ebbing and flowing with the movement of your bodies, but, slowly, you came to realize exactly what this was. Maybe this was a reconfession of love. Maybe he would beg for you to stay. Maybe he was more than lonely tonight, and was just rushing the sex to get to the part where he asked you to come back to him. "That's not... Fair. I'm doing better without you."

"What a lie," Joe chuckled mirthlessly. "You're not wearing your favorite going-out dress, you're not even wearing mascara. You didn't want to leave the house tonight, but you did. Why?"

"My friends dragged me out," you said.

"Exactly," Joe said. "You'd rather stay home and rot in bed, because you're just as miserable without me as I am without you. Admit it, we were so good together, don't you want that again?"

"Joe," you started. "We broke up because you wanted kids, and I didn't. That's not something you can compromise on, that's not a conversation you can table for later. We broke up because we wanted different things, and that's okay."

"But I want you back," Joe said. "I need you back. Please, we can compromise on this. We can... Fuck, I don't know, we can get a cat. Or a puppy, or a lizard, or whatever the fuck it takes for you to come back to me."

Before you could say more, your phone buzzed in your purse on the floor just by your head, and you sighed as you reached for it, any distraction welcome. Your friend was texting you: Make it home ok?

Yeah, you answered quickly. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow xx.

"Joe," you started. "I... I only see you as a friend now. I don't think I can return to what we had."

"That's the biggest lie you've ever said," Joe told you. "If I was just a friend, would you have come over tonight?"

"Yes!" you said. "Because I'm a good friend! You said you were lonely, and I wanted to come help—"

"Oh, God, there was an undertone, and you know that," Joe cringed. "Don't act like you didn't know exactly what this was."

"Fuck," you mumbled. "Joe, I— Can we wait until we're done fucking?"

Joe sighed and, setting his jaw, angled his hips back and pulled out. He went in search of his clothes quietly, and you did the same, and, as you were zipping up your trousers, you said, "I guess I just don't... Don't see how we can have what we had. Not now, not knowing that we want our futures to be so different."

"We don't have to have what we had," Joe said. "We can have something completely new. We can make something entirely different, entirely our own, whatever we want. Please?"

You looked up from your jeans to see him looking at you. He had shaved his facial hair down to nothing, and you frowned to look at it. "I hate the way you do your hair now," you mumbled. "And I wish you'd grow your mustache back out."

Joe shrugged. "Maybe I will," he said. "If you want me to."

"I do," you said. "And we can get a cat, but you have to do the nasty shit, cleaning up after it and everything. We can... We can get back together, if you... If you promise you'll never leave me again."

Joe stepped towards you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, and he kissed the top of your head. "Never again, love."

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part eight

authors note: wow, you guys just keep on amazing me. all of the kind comments really do make my day, you have no idea. the beginning of this one is heavy, but i'm gradually working towards exposing more of reader and joe's backstories!!!

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst (parental neglect, abandonment) language, suggestive themes

words: 6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“It’s been almost a year, babe.” His tone is the perfect combination of understanding yet frustrated, like he’s trying his best to be patient but his needs are getting the best of him. “You still not ready?”

You wanted someone to talk to for the drive, even if it was only an hour, but at this moment, you’re regretting choosing your boyfriend.

“I just….I want to be really sure, okay?” 

This has been the latest conversation between the two of you, more a point of contention. You care about Amir, you love him, but there’s something about letting him take your virginity you’re still a bit unsure about. Maybe it’s the fact that you just turned 16 three months ago and still feel like you’re a bit on the young side to take that next step. Or maybe it’s the fact that you guys have been rocky, almost since the beginning, having your fair share of arguments, even makeups and breakups. 

But, you also know that even with the ups and downs, a year deep for a high school relationship is almost unheard of. That has to mean something.

“I love you, and you love me, right?”

You check the rearview mirror and switch lanes. “Of course.”

“So let’s seal the deal.”

A glance at the navigation makes you aware that you’re roughly ten minutes away from your destination. Instantly, your stomach begins to twist and knot. And like many with anxiety, it comes out as anger.

“Look, can you please just stop pressuring me?” You snap. “I feel like that’s all you ever want to talk about.”

“Whoa, whoa, where’s all this attitude coming from?” He, understandably, becomes defensive. A small part of you feels bad, taking your nerves out on him, even if it’s not entirely undeserved. It has become an annoying, frequent hot topic. “Am I wrong for wanting to be close to my girlfriend?”

“Bullshit. You just want to get your dick wet.” 

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t be asking you,” he retorts, arrogantly. “I can get pussy anywhere.”

That’s the wrong thing to say, obviously, because you angrily fire back, “fine, then go do that and leave me and my pussy alone!”

He sucks his teeth on the other side. “I’ll talk to you when you not in one of your bitch moods. Must be on your period or something.”

“Fuck you, Amir.”

The phone disconnects.

He hung up.

Frustrated, for a lot of reasons, you squeeze the steering wheel and curse, loudly. This isn’t what you needed. You’re regretting not calling Mariah instead. You’re starting to regret this decision altogether but work to remind yourself why you’re doing it, why you want to do it. Amir and his shit be damned. He’ll always be there, and you’ll figure the shit out, like you always do. 

Right now though, you need to focus on yourself and your plan. 

So, you spend the rest of your time driving by feeding positive mantras into yourself in an attempt to bleed out the negativity. 

It’s especially needed when you finally arrive at your destination, parking your car as far back in the parking lot as you can. You blow out a big, deep breath, keeping your hands on the steering wheel as it really sets in that you’re doing this, finally doing something you’ve wanted since you got your license but have been too scared to follow through on. 

It’s going to be a daunting task no matter what, but it’s what you want, and you’ve come too far to back out now. 

Shaky hands reach to pull down the sun visor so you can use the mirror to assess your makeup and hair. You’d saved up your paychecks to afford this 14k gold necklace the local jeweler had gotten in stock and kindly agreed to hold until you could afford it. You just wanted to look your best.

You needed to look your best.

Blowing out another breath, you reach to spray another layer of your trial size perfume. It was some expensive ass designer fragrance that smelled sinfully sweet, but the trial one was all you could afford. 

Climbing out of the car with your best bag, you make sure to lock the door and start heading toward the entrance, offering a few small smiles to the cops you pass by.

Stepping into the precent, you march right up to the front desk with your head held high.

“Hi,” you breathe, pasting on that rehearsed smile. “I—umm, is Captain Wilson available?”

“Uhhhh.” She stands up and looks back, most likely where his office is. “I believe so, can I ask what this is in regards to?”

Crap. You hadn’t thought about what to say, how to explain how you knew him. Quickly, you settle on, “old family friend.”

She assesses you, probably wondering why their police captain is family friends with a high schooler.

Thankfully, she nods and moves from behind the desk to escort you. “Follow me.” 

You’re briefly relieved that the first part is done, far from the hardest but necessary for you to actually get to the hard part. 

She knocks on the open door. “Captain?”

He looks up, and your stomach drops. 

Years.

It’s been years since you’ve seen him, been this close in proximity. He’s older, obviously, but still very similar to how you remembered him all those years ago. He looks at you for a second, clearly confused and then at the woman.

“She said she’s a family friend.”

Nervous that this will mess up your plan, you interrupt, “I—I need to speak with you, please.”

The woman turns to you. “I thought you said—”

He lifts his hand, standing up. “It’s fine, Yang.” He motions to the door. “Leave us.”

You can feel her distasteful expression on you, but she follows his command, closing the door behind you. 

“Well, how can I help you, young lady?”

It's such a loaded question, but you came prepared, ready to jump right to the point. Don't want to waste any time.

"I, well, I'm—" Chuckling, you reach into your bag and pull out the old picture of your mom you kept in your locker. Opening and showing it to him, you watch his entire facial expression shift from friendly to shocked. "I'm your—"

“What are you doing here?” There’s a sudden change in his tone, even in his body posture, less friendly, more hostile. Clearly, he recognizes you.

“I—” The answer is simple yet difficult to get out, but you manage. “I wanted to meet my father.”

He suddenly asks, accusingly. “Did your mother put you up to this?” 

“What?” Frowning, you explain, “no, no, she—she doesn’t even know I’m here. No one does.”

“Good,” he mutters. “Listen—”

“I’m 16 now,” you interject, suddenly remembering the list of things you wanted to share with him, wanted him to know about you. “And I’m—I’m captain of my school’s cheerleading squad. Took my team to state last year. I’ve had a couple of scouts from colleges reach out already.”

“Listen—”

“And I just got my SAT scores back. I got a 1400. A 32 on my ACT. That puts me in the top 10% of the nation for both of them.”

“Is there a reason you’re telling me all of this?”

“I thought—” This is going the complete opposite of how you planned, how you hoped. You expected him to be confused and surprised, but you didn’t expect this level of disinterest and aggravation. Like you’re annoying him. Like you’re bothering him. “I thought if—if you saw me, if you met me and see I’m not a bad kid that—that maybe you’d want a relationship with me.”

 “A relationship?” He scoffs, actually fucking scoffs. “Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.”

Of all the things to say—cruel, hurtful, mean—you’re not sure just what to label this. Because it’s almost inconceivable to you that he could say such a thing while looking directly at you, as if you’re not his blood. As if you’re not his daughter.

“I—” Any hope or confidence you had is all but squashed underneath the weight of his cruelty. “I’m your daughter.”

“No, you are a mistake that I paid your mother to take care of.” He turns away, one hand on his hip, the other running his hand over his face. “Biggest waste of money I ever spent.”

Devastated. It’s the closest word you can use to describe what you’re feeling right now, all over, in every crevice of your body. You never knew a person could feel so much pain at one time. 

That a heart could feel so heavy.

“How—”

“Honey—”

Turning your head, you see a woman dressed in fine clothes, adorned in real, 14k or more jewelry, and a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes when she sees the Captain isn’t alone. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

You’re unsure how to answer, especially when you notice the big rock on her finger. It doesn’t take much to realize this must be his wife. The same woman he cheated on with your mother and unintentionally created you. 

“Not at all,” he answers with a chuckle. You watch with a twisted stomach as she walks over to him, kissing his cheek. He smiles at her with such adoration, such happiness, a complete contrast with the disgust and disdain he sent your way. “I was just telling this young lady there’s nothing we can do for her.”

Young lady. That’s all you are to him, and it was stupid of you to trick yourself into believing otherwise. If he could go sixteen years without once asking or inquiring about you, he could go another sixteen. Another 100. You weren’t a part of his world, didn’t exist there, and you never would.

“Dad, Elijah won’t get out of the car. I swear, you should have kept me an only—” Another person enters the room and also stops mid-sentence. “---child.” An identical set of brown eyes land on you, eyes that he has, that you have. The similarities don’t stop there. Nose, lips, even bone structure to some extent, age. “Oh, my bad. Dad, who’s—” 

You never give her the chance to finish or yourself the chance to hear the rest of her question. Rushing past her as well as the other cops in the precinct who surprisingly don’t try to stop you, you don’t allow your feet to rest until you’re in the safety of your car. 

And that’s when it finally comes out. 

The guttural, vulnerable scream that you’ve been holding in. You beat at the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the horn. You beat at that thing until your wrist aches and fist grows tired. Nearly hyperventilating, the sob erupts from your throat, almost your entire body shaking from the intensity. You’ve never felt so awful in your life, so empty, so unwanted and unloved.

It’s the kind of pain that’s so visceral you can only understand if you’ve felt it, and no one deserves to feel this. 

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You feel it, and more, for bringing yourself down here and making a fool of yourself. 

A family. 

He has a whole family. He already has children, has a daughter who’s close in age. A daughter he loves and whose life he wants to be involved in. 

And it’s not you.

It’s never been you, and it’ll never be you.

Finally, you understand why your mom always shot down or redirected any attempt you made to ask about your dad. It was for this reason. This is what she was trying to protect you from, and you idiotically ran right into the line of fire. 

Immensely grateful you had the wherewithal to park as far back as you could, you sit there for who knows how long, screaming, crying, heartbroken, avoiding what’s sure to be the longest drive home of your life.

There’s such an intolerable level of discomfort at this, this pain, this hurt. You don’t want to feel it, don’t want to sit in it. You can’t. You’re not sure if you can continue to function in this state.

You need a distraction. 

And you have the perfect one. Whatever development has occurred in the prefrontal cortex is nonexistent and inactive as you dig in your purse for your phone. 

With shaky fingers, you send him a simple text, knowing he’ll know exactly what you mean.

Tonight. Let’s do it tonight. 

________

Three days after her emergency surgery, Calista was officially discharged from the hospital, allowing her to be home with you just in time for Thanksgiving. Not that that ended up being anything to write home about. You opted to stay home with her, aiding in her recovery as your mom came over to drop off some food and assist in nursing your sweet little girl back to health.

It was much appreciated, especially as Joe had to leave the day before she was released, much to his and Callie’s chagrin. She loved the company of you, even your mom, but she especially loved being around and with Joe.

Not that he was any different. You could see how much it killed him to have to leave her when she was still admitted in a hospital, so you had to continue to remind him that the hardest part was over. Ironic considering how grounded he kept you in that terrifying experience. 

Joe’s promise of returning for Christmas was the only thing that kept Callie slightly less disappointed. She loves Christmas, and him being there for her favorite holiday will definitely mean a lot to her. You know she just hates having to wait so long to see him again. It’s safe to say she’s pretty attached to him, which warms your heart and makes you even more eager for her to finally realize that Joe is not just Joe.

He’s her dad.

And speaking of daddy, your dynamic with Joe has been both different yet the same. There’s always been this chemistry between you two, but it seems him finally admitting he wants to be with you and your finally acknowledging that it's something you’re willing to consider has given him privilege to up the ante.

He’s always been forward with you, but it’s been subtle, if at all present, since his return.

That's no longer the case.

He makes his comments and innuendos, always appropriate and respectful enough to not warrant pushback. But, it’s still there. 

And you like it, way more than you should for someone who doesn’t even know how she feels about any of this to begin with. 

“I have an idea.”

Th comment comes from the very person who you summoned to help with said ambivalence chimes with that mischievous smile that almost got you both kicked out of school at least two times.

Alexis Palmer stands on the opposite side of the kitchen, a bottle of vodka in one hand and another unidentified alcoholic beverage in the other. To say you summoned her may be a bit of an exaggeration. You emailed her, yes, but you didn’t except her to actually fly across the world to come visit you. Apparently, she was in Norway when she received your email.

“You couldn’t not expect me to come. You sent out the bestie bat signal!”

The first time you met Alexis, you hated her. She was your assigned roommate who you had the displeasure of meeting during move in week. A large part of your disdain for her was because she represented everything you’d always found utterly annoying: rich, entitled, privileged.

You’d quickly find out that was only partially true. Yes, Alexis came from money, but that was essentially all she came from. You’ll never forget the time you two were actually having a decent conversation and she casually mentioned that neither of her parents had ever told her happy birthday before. Ever. 

Even your mom, though not having much, made sure to make the most of all of your special days.

That was the first day you started to see our roommate in a different light, and now, over ten years later, you consider her a best friend. If Alexis didn’t spend her life randomly traveling to various parts of the world, living comfortably off her trust fund money, you’d absolutely be much closer. 

But until, or if, she gets tired of always being on the go, you settle for email updates and countless snapchat messages because WIFI is a wonderfully universal thing when compared to international texting and call fees.

Alexis's partially drunk ass skips out of the kitchen, clearly going to retrieve something as you take a moment to check your phone. It took a moderate level of convincing for you to agree to Callie spending a day or two with your mom, not that you didn’t believe she wouldn’t be in the best care. It was just some lingering anxiety from your baby being hospitalized, that mother’s fear of something happening in your absence and you not being there to comfort her.  

But, your mom brought up a valid point, that you’d spend almost nonstop time with Callie since her discharge, and that was fine. You loved spending time with you little girl, but you also needed some time for yourself. Some adult interaction, and Alexis' surprise visit created the perfect opportunity. 

So, that brings you to your current scenario, having an in-house girl night with your college roommate, drinking wine (harder liquor for her) and figuring out just what the fuck you’re doing with your non-existent love life. 

When Alexis turns with one of your poster boards, you protest, “Lex, those are for my students.”

She gives you the most disgusted look. “Girl, fuck them kids. If it’s not my sweet Cal Gal, I don’t care.”

Knowing good and well this is a losing battle, you let it go and watch as she lays the poster board on the kitchen island and pulls out a sharpie.

“What are you—”

She lifts a finger, silencing you as she continues to write. Shaking your head, you take another sip of your wine. 

Alexis is done in a matter of a few minutes and finally prompts you to look. “Okay, all done.”

It’s in reading what she’s created that you nearly drop your wine glass. “Lex, what is this?”

She rolls her eyes, pointing with the sharpie to the title. “Obviously, it’s the ‘figure out who I should be with’ chart. Created by yours truly!”

You blink a couple times. “Alexis, why is Kai’s name up here? He was a high school hookup.”

“Yes, but still a hookup nonetheless, so he makes the cut.” Lord as much as you missed Alexis, you’d almost forgotten how draining her eccentric ways can be. “Now, as you can see, each option has a pros and cons column. I say we start with the pros, and I’ll even help you out.”

“Should I be scared?”

She pauses. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head, you wait for her to quickly jot down whatever she objectively believes is considered a pro. But, when she turns the poster around, you actually laugh. “Oh my god.”

She’s written only in Joe’s pro column, but it’s more what she has written that has you humored.

“Obviously, at number one, we have 'big dick' because that's the most important thing in life. Never commit to a micro-penis.”

Ignoring the latter part of her statement, you ask, “big dick? Really?” 

“Is it a lie?” She challenges. You open your mouth and immediately close it, taking another sip of wine. “I rest my case.” Yeah, you definitely can’t fight that one. “Wait, is he the one you tried anal with that one time?”

You nearly spit out your wine, for a couple of reasons. You'd never really considered yourself a feminist, but you were definitely someone who believed in women being free sexual beings. You never subscribed to that modesty bullshit. Sex was fun to you, and you liked it. You definitely considered yourself more on the freaky side. Outside of the really weird shit and threesomes, you were down to try whatever. Especially with Joe. Well, except for that. “Absolutely not. He’s too big. That shit already hurts, hence why it was one and done.”

Confused, she asks. “Who was it then?”

“Amir,” you answer, casually. Alexis, being Alexis, was pretty much the same as you when it came to embracing sexuality, hence speaking so openly about your sex lives.

She turns up her nose. “Yuck. Okay, back to Big Dick Joe.” After over 10+ years of friendship, you’ve learned, to some extent, certain things Alexis says just have to be chalked up to being a part of who she is. Like this entire activity that you’re for some reason entertaining. “Now get back to naming!”

You shrug, thinking about it, even if there’s not much to think about. “I mean, we have a child together already.”

“Oh damn, forgot about that,” she mutters and quickly adds Callie to the list of pros. “Sorry, Cal.”

This isn’t necessarily a difficult task. You’re pretty sure you could talk for 30 minutes straight about all of the reasons you like Joe. “He’s kind, smart, easy to talk to, an amazing dad to Callie.”

She downs the last of her concoction before shouting out, “oooh, don’t forget rich!”

Your eyes lift to the ceiling as you shrug, genuinely uninterested. “You know I don’t care about that.”

“You will when it’s time for Callie to go to college,” she ‘sings’, adding it to the board. “Fine as fuck,” Alexis talks aloud while writing the same thing. “Like very fine. As in you should have asked if his wife could fight fine because the way I never would have asked that man to leave—”

“Alexis.”

“Sorry.” She’s really not. “Why don’t we switch gears? How about we do the pros for Amir? Or even Kai?” You open your mouth to respond when she cuts you off. “Couldn’t think of any? Me neither. Back to Joe, it is.”

You run your hand against the side of your face, elbow on the section of the island that’s not occupied by the poster board. “Seriously, Alexis. There’s nothing there for Kai. At all. Hell, Amir neither.”

It’s like a light goes off, like all of her efforts have finally proved fruitful. The entirety of her eccentricity minimizes to something calm and considerate. “Exactly.” Laying down the poster, she comes and sits in the bar seat next to you. “You don’t like Amir. You definitely don’t like Kai. But, you do like Joe. Maybe more, though I’m not sure you’re ready to actually admit that out loud.” Much like a lot of what she says, though usually cloaked underneath her quirkiness, she’s correct. “So, what’s the real issue, roomie? It was his wife before, which I totally understood. You’re a moral person and shit. But now? He’s divorced, Y/N. You two have a child you’re trying to raise together. What’s holding you back?”

It’s a very, very valid question that you have no idea how to answer. You’ve tried, to some extent, to explore what your hesitations are. It hasn’t been high on the priority list due to your being focused on nursing Callie back to health, but as she’s on the mend to a full recovery, if not already at the eve of one, you know you’re gonna have to figure this shit out. Preferably sooner than later. 

Joe will respect your need for time and space, but you also know he can be a persistent bastard, especially when it’s something or someone he wants.

It’s how ya’ll even got together in the first place. 

“I’m gonna say something, and I don’t want you to bite my head off. Just hear me out. Let me put this expensive ass psych degree to use.” That makes you chuckle, but you remain quiet, allowing her to continue. “I think….I think whatever the situation is with your dad might be at play here.” Instantly, you're stiff, any hint of a smile or humor gone. “I don’t know exactly what happened outside of the fact that he’s not in your life, but something tells me there’s something there that you need to face.” And if she wasn’t already hitting you where it hurts, she adds on, “and I think it had something to do with why you didn’t tell Joe about Callie from the very beginning.” 

Alexis has always had this uncanny ability to make you wonder if there’s something possibly mentally wrong with her and in the same breath wonder why the hell she didn’t decide to pursue a higher degree in psychology because of her sage wisdom.

This is one of those moments.

You know there’s some element of truth to what she’s saying, some layers behind events you’d pushed so far back in your head, you tried to convince yourself they didn’t still impact you. 

But opening that box…..it’s hard for you to justify doing so. To understand why you need to revisit such uncomfortable, painful memories. You’re gonna be 32 years old next year. You’re too damn old to still be dealing with daddy issues.

Reaching for the bottle of wine, you pour some into your glass, noticeably more than the first one. “Maybe.” 

Alexis also knows you well enough to know that a dismissal was bound to be your approach to such a heavy topic. “Is that the sign to change subjects, even though that’s literally why you asked me to come?"

“Technically, you invited yourself.”

“Bullshit,” she snorts. “You send that wild ass email and expect me to not book it back here to make sure my favorite twerk partner isn’t Gucci?” She suddenly asks, “wait, do people still say that?”

“Probably not. We’re old and outdated now.”

“Speak for yourself, I had a 24 year old Frenchman eat me out last month, and it was C'est Magnifique,” she sighs, clearly reminiscing as you turn up your nose.

“Too young for me, girl.” Younger men have never done anything for you, even Amri, who was a grade above you, felt too close in age.

“That’s right,” she nods, and you just know there’s something on the tip of her tongue. “You like em’ older. Samoan, tatted, with massive arms and big dicks.” 

“Alexis.” You have to laugh, leaning into her side and laying your head on her shoulder. “I’ve missed you, girl.” You needed this, the time and space to be silly, to have difficult yet important conversations, to both think and not think. Alexis has always been that really great space for you, Mariah for even longer, but given your last interactions with her, you realize she’s not exactly the best candidate at the moment. 

And as if reading your mind, she asks, “how’s ole girl doing?”

Ole girl aka Mariah.

The relationship between Mariah and Alexis……well, there is none. Put simply, they hate each other. More hate on Alexis' part, Mariah has just always kinda ignored Alexis and her role in your life, which is significantly easier considering Alexis is always on the move. The reason for the dislike and incompatibility between the two of them will always be a mystery.

“It’s just something about that girl.”

That’s what she would always say, and it once reached the point where you and Alexis stopped speaking for a couple of weeks, because you were a lot of things, loyal at the top of that list.

Outside of the whole situation with Joe….you still don’t know what exactly happened there.

Nonetheless, it just became agreed upon that talking with one woman about the other would be kept to a minimum, preferably none.

You know Alexis is just trying to be nice by asking. She doesn’t really care. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, honestly. “She’s been….I think she’s just going through something.”

She rolls her eyes, clearly unsurprised. “I’m sure she is.” 

You sigh. “Alexis.”

“I know you don’t like it when I talk about her cause that’s your other ‘best friend,’ but I’m telling you, Y/N, that girl is not your friend. She’s jealous of you. She been jealous of you,” she blurts out, as if keeping it in any longer would be painful. “But, imma be quiet.”

And she does which you’re grateful for, even if her words are, for the first time, starting to trigger some unfamiliar thoughts. Alexis, Kai, your own experiences. You’ve always leaned on the side of where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and Mariah’s forest is ablaze.

You just have to figure out how to approach all of this.

Among the other 50 fucking things you have to figure out.

_______

You can’t remember the last time you propped up your phone to call Joe for any reason other than Callie wanting to see or speak to him. 

And yet, here you are, in your bathroom, preparing for your nightly routine, doing just that. 

He answers on the third ring, eyes lighting up with surprise when he sees it’s you and not Callie. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Your tone is much too cheery for your taste, so you attempt to roll it back. “Is, uhh, is this a bad time?”

“Never a bad time for you,” he replies, smoothly. Looking into the screen, you realize he’s sitting up in bed, one arm behind his head. “What’s up? I thought you were having a girls night with Alexis.”

“We were. Well, we did, but she’s white girl wasted, passed out in my bed right now,” you answer, peeking through your ajar bathroom door to make sure she didn’t wander off somewhere. She was always that mobile drunk friend who had to be carefully monitored or else she’d end up on a local new station. “You talk to Callie?”

He nods as you grab your face wash and dispense some into your hand to lather. “Yeah, earlier. She seems to be having a good time with your mom.”

“She usually does, cause like you, my mom never tells her no.” You’ve always allowed that space for your mom to have her own relationship with Callie, one that you have no interference with. Similar to how it was for you with your grandma. But now with Joe being in the picture too, you foresee having to be that parent that actually tells their kid no.

Cause Lord knows Joe ain’t shaping up to be the one. 

“She doesn’t do anything for us to have to tell her no.”

You pause in the midst of scrubbing your face. “God, I can’t wait for you to finally experience one of her tantrums. Next time you come, I’m gonna keep her up so you can see how she gets when she’s tired.” Joe has been blessed to really only experience happy Callie, even, unfortunately, sad Callie, but he’s yet to see your little girl when she’s angry.

“Don't do that to her.” He immediately grows defensive, and you giggle. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” you agree, rinsing your face and adding, “but all kids have moments, Joe. I would know, I work with them.”

“Well, you—”

“He don’t wanna be saved, don’t save him!”

You’re in the midst of drying your face when Alexis’s drunk, random ass comes stumbling by the door. “Alexis, what the hell are you doing up?”

Your words clearly trigger something with her wasted ass, cause in a matter of seconds, she’s crying. “My name is Alexis, but I’m not from Texas,” she begins to cry profusely at the word ‘Texas’, and it takes everything in you not to fall out laughing. You haven’t seen her this wasted since your junior year of college.

Hand on her back moving in circles, you soothe, “it’s okay, sweetie. You’re way better than her anyway.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, all soft and innocent, the complete opposite of the porn star she’s crying over not being. 

“Of course.” You place your arms around her and mouth to Joe you’ll be right back. “Now, let's get you back to bed.”

“Are we gonna fuck?”

“No, Lex, you’re gonna sleep, and I’m going to finish talking to Joe.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment is hilarious as she yells out, much louder than necessary. “Bye, Joe!”

“Girl, you are gonna get me evicted,” you scold with a small laugh, guiding her into your bed and under the blankets. “Now, you sleep this off, and I’ll roast you in the morning over your antics. Deal?”

Alexis is so drunk, she couldn’t consent to breathing right now, but she does manage to give you a crooked thumbs up. “Deal.”

Stepping back into the bathroom, you give Joe a look and shake your head as he asks, “Damn. How much did ya’ll drink?”

“You mean how much did she drink?” You correct him. He knows good and well that’s not your thing. Never was. You didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. You could shake your ass on any table just fine, good and sober. “A lot. I just had two glasses of wine.” Suddenly remember something, you start speaking again, eager for his perspective on an idea that crossed your mind the other day. 

“I think we should—”

“Go out with me.” 

You both speak at the same time, but his statement obviously gives you pause. You stare at him, momentarily confused and ask, “what?”

He repeats himself, just as confident the first time around. “Go on a date with me.”

For a second, you think he’s joking, think he’s playing with you for some reason, but one look at his expression, and you know he’s being for real. You’re not sure how to respond, asking again, “like an actual date? A real date?”

“No, like a fake date.” He rolls his eyes, and you resist flipping him off. “Yes, an actual date.” 

Still confused, you ask in a quieter voice, “why?”

His answer is surprisingly simple and unsurprisingly genuine. “Because I’ve never actually taken you out, and I want to. You deserve that much.”

This has been such a wild ass day. Hell, ever since Joe reentered your life, things have been wild. For the majority, if not entirety, of your relationship, you spent most of your time with this man holed up in your apartment and hotel rooms. Now he’s asking to take you out on a proper date. 

What a 180.

It’s like he can see the wheels turning in your head and reassures, still with all the boldness. “We can take this as slow as you want, but you should know I’m heading in one direction and one direction only.”

Fuck. There’s nothing unclear about that, but it’s not surprising. He’s made it clear what he wants from you. He’s just waiting on you to tell him what you want from him. 

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, "just a date?"

“Just a date,” he agrees. You should know him well enough though to know that’s not it. Sure enough, he smugly adds, “but if you end up riding my dick, then that’s just fate, baby.”

And there it goes, that charisma and charm that always kept you coming back for more.

Your smile is hard to conceal, so you settle for biting your lip, looking away. This man has no filter sometimes…not that you’re complaining. At all.

Feeling bold, probably from the wine traveling through your system, you play into his teasing. “Maybe I just want some dick.” 

“That’s fine too.” He shrugs. “You know all you gotta do is ask, and I’ll get you right. Every single time.” A beat. “How you think Callie got here?”

That’s the thing….he’s not wrong, not wrong at all. You can’t think of a single sexual encounter with this man that didn’t either bring tears to your eyes from how good he was eating you up or had you walking with an almost limp the next day from how good he beat your shit up. Often both.

It’s always a good time with the head of the table.

Finally, you settle on an answer that feels most appropriate. “I’ll only agree if you agree to behave.”

He looks confused. Understandable. “What does it mean to behave?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you answer confidently, “it means keeping your hands and body parts to yourself.”

If you agree to this, it has to be well regulated and feelings or hormones can’t get in the way of things. If you and Joe are to progress into something more, you have to take it slow, even if just for Callie. 

At least, that’s the hope. 

Nodding, he asks, mischief in his light eyes. “What if you’re the one who can’t behave?”

You snort, using the oil to grease your scalp. “Unlikely.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll see about that.” He has that look in his eyes, the same look that almost always ended up with you bent over whatever the most sturdy object in the room was. It’s a dangerous expression. 

And you suddenly find your thighs clenching together. 

Not a good sign. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, leaning over the counter, praying his perceptive ass didn’t notice that. “As much as I would love to continue to chat with you, I have to call our daughter and talk to her before she goes to bed.” It’s not an entire lie; you do need to call her. Just not at this moment. He doesn't need to know that though. 

“You’re flustered, aren’t you?” 

This man….

Two can play that game. 

Pushing your arms together to press your breast together, you’re pleased seeing his gaze darken. “Does it look like I’m flustered, baby?” His jaw clenching is all the satisfaction you need. Mission accomplished. “Goodnight, Joe.” 

Refusing to give him a chance to come back with something, you end the call, only realizing what just happened once you’re left alone with your thoughts.

You’re going out on a date with Joe.

What the fuck?

[arseniy-arsenicum33]

All Hermits in Hero Forge!

Season 10 is coming! And I've finished modeling every Hermit (Thus far) in their TCG-cards poses!

Special thanks to Hoffen for their original minecraft models...

You've already saw these eight models in my Life-series minis showcase, slight tweaks and costume changes... I really need to buy Hero Forge subscription, so i can manipulate fingers individually... Now, for the new guys... Guess what?! I've figured out how to make links! Now you can see my references directly! Technology!

Ren got his cool casual look...

Docm77 inspired primarily by Belmarzi's design, such as this... It was very funny to suddenly stop in the middle of this project to model him hugging Snoop Dogg...

JoeHills, unsurprisingly, based on real-life Joe Hills... But I did have this comic by my side while modeling him, for moral support, because modeling someone's likeness is always stressful...

Cleo's pose pose a challenge, It uses a transparent one-legged skeleton inside the main body... Like a real armour-stand magic! I like how it turned out...

I've started watching Zedaph very recently, so both Noxolotl's and Applestruda's portrayals of him were very helpful in forming mine...

Blaise's Hermit line up was used for Cub and Hypno, which you will see down the line... Bee's art was helpful, once again, and these Cub-arts by Sylvan...

My main goal with Jevin was to somehow convincingly make a slime look slimy... I was so ready to make him as rotund as this art, but alas, program restrictions...

This art was used for False at the very beginning, but it drifted so much with the addition of cheekbones, that it doesn't look like it at all anymore...

Hypno had a surprise for me, because before making this model, I've never saw this brown line on his chest as a boob-window... But now, I am convinced... This is the art, that guided me to that conclusion... Ghostea's and Locus's portraits were useful for figuring out his face...

Iskall lifted from this art... Hero Forge doesn't have any cool one-eyed visors, so I've settled on monocle for him and Doc...

Hero Forge also for some reason doesn't have a hand-held flower, so pretend, that Stress doesn't hold a pen, okay? And has a cardigan... Based mainly on this and this art, which was also used for XB...

My best guess with Keralis was that he is doing Edvard Munch's "The Scream" ommage... Thanks to Myra and Cole , without them, Keralis would've looked more like a bug with them big ol' eyes...

Oh, boy, XB... A true enigma for me... Pictured here, lightly jogging... Only you could tell me, if I did a good job with him, I sincerely have no idea... Since this is in part a TCG-inspired project, it would've been wise to use references from the actual TCG-cards... To bad, I've came up with this idea near the end of a project...

I have made so many Xisuma-costumes, and only now I am showing you the main friendly-neighbourhood DoomGuy cosplayer himself... Do I need to credit id Software for this?

WelsKnight is my champion in regards to how many references I needed for him... 1 2 3 4 5 6 7! Despite how many armour options Hero Forge has, making something coherent out of them was difficult... Especially, keeping in mind, that one day I'm going to model HelsKnight as well...

And finally, TinFoilChef, based heavily on this stunning artwork... And somewhat on this skin by Ink-Ghoul... It all comes around...

And the Creator Himself! Beef! And his wonderful portraits: 1 2 3 4...

I actually going to use him as an example, to address something...

Here is how my screen looks, then I am working on a model... My method of creation is derivative by nature, it requires the art and creativity of other people... And I have SO MUCH anxiety about this... Not being an artist, but still trying to make something with my limited capabilities... And post it on the internet, oh horror...

With recent talks about plagiarism and AI-art, it has come to my attention, that I myself not so different from AI, just not so efficient... So, this is why I so obsessively document my influences, it is the least I can do... Credit the artists, that I stole from... Please, check out everyone mentioned, subscribe to them, commission new pieces of art...

And if you've liked my dorky "minecraft youtubers made in DND character creator" models... Thank you...

Sometime later there will be a google doc on my blog with links to every model I've ever made, go nuts with them... Try Hero Forge for yourself, it's fun...

[tomsvouge]

Bad Idea Right?

Pairings: Ex!Joe burrow x Ex!Reader Warnings:Alcohol use, situationship, mentions of sex Summary- What happens when y/n gets a text message from someone in her past that her friends are not fond of? Her friends tell her not to go but it can’t be a bad idea…. right?

Who would have thought I would end the night with him, In his bed cuddled with him like we are together. Should I regret it? Probably. Do I regret it? Hell no! Have you seen this man he is literally a walking hercules and who am I to block an opportunity that I was given. Anyways, you may be asking, "y/n what the heck are you even talking about?". Well let's go back to earlier in the day where everything started.

My friends and I were talking about throwing a party and I couldn't be more excited. I needed something to get my mind off of him. Me and Joe are kinda rocky when it comes to a relationship. We broke up about two months ago. Usually when two people break up they dont talk to each other, buttttt me and Joe have been sneaking around for the past two weeks. No one knows about this, not my friends, not his friends just sneaking around like two teenagers. 

As we all sit on my couch we start talking about party details, y’know the time, who to invite the food, all that good boring stuff when out of nowhere melody says this.

“Well since we're talking about personal invites I don't think you should invite Joe y/n”- Melody 

“Why would I invite Joe? We're done. Over” I said lying through my teeth knowing that we were still hooking up.

“I'm just saying you seem to be tense each time you see him. Like that one time we were watching tv and his Bose ad came on. You looked like you saw a ghost.” She says laughing.

“I was Just shocked at his dance moves, I thought I taught him better when we took that dance class.” and that was true we did take a dance class but let's just say, Joeys not dancing for a while.

“I wasn't the worst i've seen but also not the best”- Kaylee says while  writing something down.

OK! Can we stop talking about my ex, kinda getting weird. 

“Ok but just know Joe Burrow is not allowed through these doors.” Melody says in a serious tone.

“Got it Not allowed through the doors.” I say looking at her. 

“I'll just let him in the backyard” I say in my head.

Getting ready for the party I put on my outfit and did my makeup. As I'm putting on my mascara I get a facetime. I look at the screen and immediately knew it was joe as his contact name is “LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷” showed up. Reluctantly I picked up the phone.

“What?” I say in a aggravated tone 

“Well hello to you too” Joe says, rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone.

 “What are you doing?” he says, trying to change the vibe of the call.

Getting ready-i say in a sassy tone.

“For?”- Joe

“My party”-y/n

“And i didnt get an invite?” joe says with that cocky smile on his face 

“Didn't think you needed one considering we were not really together”- I say side eyeing him so hard you could feel it.

“Just because we're not together doesn't mean we cant be friends”- joe 

“If this is what you call just friends I would love to see what you do with people you hate.” i say laughing

“You know what i mean” - Joe

“Friends dont have sex nearly every night and talk to each other the way we do.”- y/n

“Well friends also don't hide things from each other” Joe says, placing the phone down so I could see him.

“I didn't invite you because you are not allowed to come, you are not exactly on my friend's good side right now.”- y/n

 My friend did not like Joeto much after the shit they had heard about him from endless phone calls to late night gossip sessions at the house. He didn't hurt me like cheat or anything. He is actually a nice guy but anyone who plays mind games and gaslights is a no no in my friend's book.

“Nothing new, I wasn't on their good side when we were together.”- Joe

“But since I can't come to you, how about you come to me?”- Joe 

“And why would I do that?” I genuinely asked because who was he to think I would leave my own party for him.

Because we can't get enough of each other no matter how hard we try we both know that we will all go back.

And Joe was right, no matter how hard I tried to move on, no one seemed to understand me like Joe does. He knows everything about me. He accepts me for who I am and vice versa. Still sad we didn't work out due to commitment and trust issues. I think when the time's right Joe and I will be perfect for eachother.

“Well I'll think about it.”- I say 

“Good, let me know when you decide.” - Joe

I was having the time of my life. My friends made sure I didn't even think about joe. So much that I forgot to even remind him if I was coming or not. 

In the middle of taking group shots I feel a vibrate coming from my hip.

LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷- u still coming??

“Don't do it.”-Kaylee says, looking over my shoulder.

“Who said I was?”

“You didn't say that but the look on your face said otherwise.”

“Okay but would you pass up a chance to just go back to your ex for one night.” 

“One night more like two weeks but she didn't need to know that right now.”

“No I wouldn't, he cheated and I'll be damned if I go back to him just to disrespect myself again.”

“Well I won't if i will make you happy.”

“Good”

Okay sooo im going to his house. You guys may say I have little respect for myself but all the respect leaves my body when I see that man. You get in a room alone with Joe Burrow and see how long you last without being all over him. Plus, can't be that bad of an idea right?

With my luck the rain decided to pour harder and completely drench me. Rushing to my car I hopped in and started it. I quickly texted Joe back telling him I was on my way. Thankfully The drive from my house to joes is not that far at all. Getting out of the car rushing to get to the front door as the rain came down on me. When I kid you not to say this man is a QB he is not quick on his feet off the field. I literally took him forever to open the door. 

Walking in the house I'm immediately tackled into hugs and kisses . After a while pushing wavy from him I decided I needed to put my clothes somewhere because wet clothes just don't feel comfortable. 

Eventually me and Joe decided to chill on the couch and talk for a while. And lets just say after the talk and cuddles the door was locked to that bedroom and that's how we got to this morning 

I woke up to like a million texts from my friends asking me why I disappeared in the middle of the party and I just told them all that I didn't feel well and went up early to sleep. Looking over left I see Joe sleeping with his arms wrapped around me. Part of me felt bad for lying to my friends about going to sleep early but technically i did lie i said I was sleep I just didn't say where.

hey guys! I'm gonna try to start putting out more fics . I chose to do this as a fun hobby and I just don't want it to feel and chore or job but if you want to request fics you are welcome to do so 🩷

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Okay, let's talk about Ming, and how some people are talking about him like he's an irredeemable monster. (It's okay that you don't know anyone who was emotionally neglected and you have a decent relationship with your parents, but it's not okay to pretend your experience is universal and everyone else is garbage)

I know some of you remember my loud defense of Ray from Only Friends, and here I am again, to fight for the loveability of the character who doesn't know what to do with all their big feelings.

Ming's family, from what we see, is not a warm, loving place for him to learn emotional intelligence.

May is pretty great, but there is only so much an older sibling can do when your parents are physically or emotionally unavailable.

Ming's mom had only been seen trying to control Ming's life, marry him off to a woman, and insisting he is incapable of being on his own. Not exactly mom of the year.

Ming is clearly incredibly lonely, and so, so sad.

He likes Tong, but mostly after his sister and Tong are already involved -- because it's safe to transfer feelings you don't understand to someone that those feelings cannot go anywhere with. When he starts to feel too much for Tong, he leaves the country, because he can't process those feelings, and he doesn't want to hurt his sister with his crush on her boyfriend.

He comes home, and he sees Joe first. His likeness to Tong is obviously what pulls Ming in, but it is very quickly apparent that Ming is genuinely interested in Joe, but he has no fucking Idea what to do with that interest.

And when Joe clearly likes him back? It gets worse. He lashes out and then feels bad, but mostly doesn't apologize, he just moves on, because apologies require reflection on what you've done wrong, and Ming doesn't know how to do that! We see him struggle with it multiple times!

He does not know how to deal with being wanted. With the expectation of care that comes with that. Because, ironically, Tong and May are the best example of a relationship he has to look at, and he had to tell Tong to go take care of May when she was sick.

His crush on Tong remains so deeply a part of his identity, even as it obviously fades, and it clouds everything because Tong uses Ming's affection for him against him! And Ming doesn't see that! He doesn't see Tong's flaws until after Joe's accident, and even then, I don't know that he acknowledges Tong's actions as cruelty and manipulation, or if he ignores that all under his own guilt and grief over losing Joe.

And this brings us back to Ming and Joe.

Ming didn't have a crush on Joe. He sort of accidentally fell into a situationship, but then became intensely possessive and obsessed with Joe. We see him be so unbelievably soft with Joe, in moments where he's allowing himself to be, to stumble through having feelings and carrying for other people. But there is so much holding on tight that Ming can't seem to turn off.

He holds on to Joe --both of them!-- so tightly. He sees threats to his claim on Joe everywhere, and he can't confront that idea, so he doubles down on being possessive, and he looks cuckoo-bananas.

But it really just reads to me like he doesn't know what to do with feelings! I know people --especially ND people, who needed a little extra help to learn how to person -- who had emotionally neglectful parents and didn't understand healthy attachment until years of therapy and some determined friends got involved.

I don't have the greatest track record for "healthy attachment", and lean towards codependent in a lot of my relationships.

Some of the people I love the most are "hold on tight even when it's not good, because if I let go you'll leave" people.

They are absolutely deserving of someone who loves them. They deserve a happy ending and middle, too. They deserve the chance to learn and grow and become better versions of themselves.

(and they deserve people to love and cheer for them even when they're being assholes and throwing tantrums and hurting people because they are still learning how not to do that)

AND THIS DOESN'T EVEN TOUCH ON HOW JOE ALSO MISSED A LOT OF EMOTIONAL LESSONS, BUT IT MADE HIM UNHINGED IN A TOTALLY DIFFERENT WAY THAN MING!

Idek if this is coherent, or everything that I wanted to say, but here it is, my treatise on why Ming is my baby, actually, and why I will defend him until he is either better or actively worse.

ETA: what Ming has done is obviously not okay, reasons are not excuses, but I do think he deserves a chance to learn. and to tell Joe he loves him.

[nothingenoughao3]

Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)

(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)

Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.

Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen

Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second

Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now

Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion

Horror: The trauma response to what just happened

A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.

Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.

You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?

Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)

Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).

So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.

Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.

Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.

But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion. 

How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:

Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.

He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.

Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".

He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.

He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.

He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).

Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.

The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand. 

The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.

(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)

If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.

This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.

This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.

I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.

This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED. 

To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.

I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).

Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?

I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't. 

This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.

Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.

Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.

Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.

Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.

In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".

This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.

It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.

Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.

We were illegal.

There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.

Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.

So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.

We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet. 

He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?

We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Let Me Take Care of You

Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader

Summary: I couldn't stop thinking about how that man needed someone to take care of him after such a long day. And I know how much he cares about his fans. He was so kind but toward the end, everybody was rushed, and I have no doubt he wished he could have taken more time. So, fic idea popped into my head because...yeah, he looked so damn good on Sunday. You're dating Joe and after the chaos of the day, you just want to help your man.

18+ only

The hotel room door opened and in came Joe, looking absolutely drained and exhausted. It had been a whirlwind of a weekend. The U.S. Embassy had misplaced his passport and he almost missed the con in Philly, disappointing thousands of fans. At the last minute, everything worked out, but he’d had to cram three days worth of autographs and photo ops into one day, showing up early and staying late. You’d offered to tag along but he’d insisted on you relaxing as you’d had a late flight the night before and he had his friend, Ollo, there to be by his side throughout the day. Joe was also nervous how his fans might treat you if they found out he was seeing someone. The two of you had kept it under wraps the last few months when you’d seen how some of the fandom had treated Grace. It was awful that someone so sweet had to deal with that kind of toxicity. 

You knew Ollo would take care of Joe, making sure he hydrated, got something to eat, and at least got a couple of smoke breaks to keep his nerves steady. But that didn’t stop you from worrying all day. You’d been checking your phone, seeing all the photos people were posting. It hadn’t gone without notice that as the day wore on, Joe’s smile wasn’t quite as wide, those eyes weren’t quite as soft as usual. 

You set your phone down, sitting up as he let out a large sigh, dropping onto the edge of the bed in front of you. You gripped the leather jacket in your hands, sliding it down his arms and tossing it onto the chair in the corner. Using your fingers, you kneaded the tense muscles of his shoulders, relishing the pleased groan he released. Your fingers continued, moving along his back and you rested your chin gently on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. Joe’s hand came to cradle your cheek, his thumb running over your jaw. 

“Long day, baby?” you asked.

“The longest,” he answered. “We managed to get everyone done but as the day wore on, they were making me rush. I felt so bad because I couldn’t chat with people or do the poses they wanted. They were telling people no hugs. I feel like they left disappointed.”

“Oh Joe, no,” you assured him, your thumb pressing into a tight knot you felt in his low back. “Your fans understand. I saw so many of the posts today and they were so grateful they had the chance to see you, that you managed to make it even if it was for one day. They understood. None of this was your fault. It sucks that you had to rush people but if you didn’t, everyone might not have gotten their chance to see you.”

“I know, darling. I just hate feeling like I didn’t give them a great experience. And it was such a long day…”

“Did you get a lunch break?”

“Yes, I did,” Joe chuckled, tilting his head, resting it against yours. “I ate, love, no worries. Ollo kept checking in on how much water I was drinking. I got three smoke breaks. It was just a lot. The panel actually felt like a break. I got to sit on a couch and have a good chat. They asked about the Kas theory again.”

You laughed, “Of course they did. Your fans want you back for season five badly. I’m sorry it was such a long day. I know this isn’t how you wanted it, but I am glad Ollo took care of you. Him and I would be having words if not.”

“I have no doubt, my sweet girl. Everyone took very good care of me today.”

“Mmm…well, maybe, but I haven’t had my turn.”

“You’re taking care of me right now,” Joe insisted. “Thank you for the back rub. Standing on that concrete was killer by the end of the day.”

“Oh, I think I can do more than that. My poor boy needs to relax,” you crooned, winding your arms around him, pulling him until he was lying back on the bed. You straddled him, your knees cradling his thighs. “Let me help you relax.”

Joe’s eyebrows raised, a smirk appearing on those sweet, full lips, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bringing your lips to his. 

His arms locked around you, crushing your body against his. Your tongue slid along his bottom lip and he caught it with his lips, gently sucking before slipping his tongue along yours, eliciting a gentle moan. You rocked your hips, rubbing your core along his length, your tongue exploring his mouth, loving the sounds of pleasure that rumbled up from his chest. 

“Let’s lose this shirt,” you whispered, sitting up and pulling the plain black tee over his head, tossing it across the room. 

“And what about your shirt?”

“This isn’t about me right now,” you grinned, your lips tracing the line of his jaw, down the side of his neck. Jesus, he smelled like heaven. “I'm taking care of you, remember?” Your lips continued their path, over his collarbone, nipping gently, his hips thrusting up into yours, creating delicious friction against your already pulsing center. 

“Seeing your tits would take care of me. Nothing makes me happier than your jubblies smothering my face.”

“Uh-uh…not yet, my beautiful boy. You just lay back and relax. Let me do all the work tonight.”

You placed open mouthed kisses over his chest, teeth grazing over his nipples. His hand cradled the back of your neck, a low growl falling from his lips. As your tongue flicked over one nipple and then the other, your fingers worked his belt and then the button on his jeans. You continued to slide down his body, placing your feet on the floor. Your tongue followed a path over his abdomen, following the trail of coarse hairs that led right where you intended to go as you gripped his jeans and boxers at the same time, dragging them down his legs and over his feet until he was completely bare to you, his cock standing at attention, pre-cum glistening along the tip. 

Kneeling down in between his legs, you gently raked your nails over his thighs and his hips rolled towards you in response, his body letting you know exactly what he needed. Your tongue darted out, capturing the salty release that had already collected. 

“Fuck, darling…” he hissed. “Don’t tease. Please.”

“No worries, baby. I am going to help ease all your stress.”

You wrapped your lips around him, working his length, taking as much of him as your throat would allow. He grunted deeply, one hand tangling in your hair as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock scratching the back of your throat. Wrapping your hand around the base, you moved along him, using your mouth and hand, pleasure shooting to your core as you listened to this beautiful man coming undone because of what you were doing to him. 

Sometimes you pinched yourself because you could not believe he was all yours. But here he was, completely at your mercy, groaning, gasping, writhing, and you were the cause of it. You were the one who could help him, who could ease his stress, who could make him feel good. It was a goddamn high. 

“Bloody hell…so sodding good…don’t stop, love…just like that…” he panted. 

Your other came up to cradle his balls, rolling them along your palm like a pair of dice. Joe growled low, the hand in your hair tightening, pulling, his other hand slamming down against the mattress. Your tongue ran along each side of his cock before taking him fully in your mouth again as you tugged down gently on his balls, squeezing them gently, applying just the right amount of pressure. 

“Fuck!” Joe shrieked, bucking up into your mouth as he held your face tightly against him, his release flooding your mouth. His entire body shook beneath you as he went rigid, helpless grunts and moans rolling out of him. 

As he relaxed, you carefully released him from your mouth, swallowing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Standing, you smiled down at him, holding his eyes with yours as you slowly removed your shirt, followed by your shorts and panties until you were naked in front of him. Joe’s eyes traveled the length of you, devouring you with his gaze, sending a shock of desire straight to your center, pulsing with need. 

You crawled over the top of his body and his hands immediately fell upon you, roaming over your sides, your hips, the curves of your breasts. He grabbed your hips, sliding you up his body until your breasts were directly over his face and then he buried himself between them, deeply moaning, his hands pressing them together against his face. 

“Fuck, I love these tits,” he sighed, his mouth exploring every inch, tongue and teeth teasing your nipples into hard little buds. 

“Joe,” you breathed, sliding your wetness over his cock until it was hard, ready to go once again. The feel of his erection pressing against your clit had you whimpering, eager for him to fill you. 

His hand slid between your bodies, his thumb moving over your clit and you gasped, back arching as you pressed your hands against his chest, sitting up. Joe started with slow circles, moving faster and faster until you were gasping for breath. 

“So wet already, darling and I barely did anything for you.”

“Taking care of you works me up,” you breathed, struggling to speak against the intense pleasure coursing through your body as his circles grew smaller, focusing right on your pleasure button. “The way you sound…knowing I can do that…it’s so damn hot. Fuck, I need your cock.”

Reaching between you, you grabbed his cock, lowering yourself onto him slowly until your pelvises were flush together. The two of you moaned simultaneously as you began to slowly rotate your hips in a circle, his cock hitting all the right places that had your stomach tensing, already so close as his thumb continued working magic on you.

“Shit, darling…that’s so good,” Joe praised. “I love watching you ride me.” His free hand caressed your face, thumb running over your lower lip and you caught it between your lips, sucking it into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You sighed, releasing his thumb as you rocked back and forth, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as you picked up the pace. Joe’s chest rose and fell heavily as he quickly raced toward another climax, his cock twitching within you as you rolled over him. His thumb began moving back and forth, faster over your clit, and you knew he was determined to get you to cum before he did. 

“Come on, my beautiful girl,” he urged, one hand now gripping your hip as he moved with you. “Cum for me, darling. Let me see how fucking beautiful you are when you let go.”

“Joe…I…fuck!” you cried, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as you shuddered on him, your climax crashing over you. 

“That’s it…yes, love,” he grunted, gripping both of your hips, thrusting up into you hard, taking over as you lost all control, moaning his name over and over. Joe’s fingertips dug into your flesh as he held you against him, filling you with his release. “Jesus Christ, darling…” He sighed, falling back on the bed. 

You fell forward onto his chest, nuzzling his neck, “Do you feel more relaxed, beautiful boy?”

“So relaxed,” he murmured sleepily. “Fuck, you took everything out of me, love.” His arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against your forehead. “I am going to sleep like a goddamn baby.”

“Good,” you replied, kissing his shoulder. “I’ll clean us up and tuck you all in.”

You went into the bathroom, getting a warm washcloth that you used to clean the two of you. Joe laid still, eyes closed, breathing deep as you gently wiped him. You tossed the washcloth back in the bathroom and then had to work to get him turned in the bed the right way as he was not much help. Your poor boy was so damn tired. 

Laying down next to him, you pulled the blanket over both of you and he whimpered softly in his sleepy state, hands reaching out for you. Joe was a cuddler, always the big spoon. Smiling, you slid toward him with your back to him, those strong arms encasing you, pressing you against his chest, wrapping himself around your body. You sighed happily, burrowing into his arms, inhaling the soothing scent of your favorite person on this planet. 

“I love you,” you whispered. “Good night.”

“Mmm…love you…” he mumbled. “Night love.”

[aew-needs-to-do-better]

Need I remind you that it was CM Punk who twisted the events at All In and said that he calmly approached Jack and said ‘he didn’t punch anybody’ or how it was Punk who leaked to Fiteful saying that Jack pushed and bumped Punk first and Punk retaliated with a chokehold? He waited until Jack calmly put his hands in his hair to throw a punch. Jack backed up. Then Punk grabbed Jack’s hair in order to put him in a headlock ie not a sleeper. Jack stepped out. And then Punk threw more punches before Joe, Hook, Hero, and the ref grabbed them both. Shit lasted a couple seconds. But not before Punk lunged at Tony and knocked over monitors. And no, this was not the incident that made Tony fear for his life. That happened after Punk’s match with Samoa Joe.

Jack Perry did nothing wrong.

Like it was Punk who leaked that story to Nick Hausman about the story regarding real glass to save face after he went on another tangent to burry Hangman Adam Page. That is why Jack was mad. He leaked a story that made Jack look bad so Punk could make himself look better. In hindsight, I am starting to believe it was Punk that was spreading stories about AEW like wildfire to the press. Before Punk, there were rarely any leaks that didn’t involve Sammy Guevara. It’s no wonder that since then, no story has been leaked. No locker room gossip. Nothing.

Punk was a condescending piece of shit in a company built on the idea that the type of hierarchy where top guys like Cena threatening Gabbi Tuft, then Tyler Reks. That is why Hangman broke script to begin with and what that promo was about. Punk kept needling at everyone backstage and bring a piece of shit. And Page saw the culture change with Punk openly disrespecting his peers and pushing people off of AEW like Colt Cabana and using his position to get his way.

Now I’m questioning Brawl Out. I starting to think that the Elite didn’t kick down that door and start that fight. Now I think hotheaded and paranoid Punk escalated that confrontation after the Elite went to his locker room. If Punk has shown those little tendencies to twist a story in his favor like saying Jack bumped into him or confronted him or threw the first punch or was condescending to him when we were just shown footage that it was Punk who did it, I am starting to think Punk was always the problem. In fact, him getting ousted from WWE the first time is starting to make sense. Punk is a carny piece of shit with a fragile ego.

Tony should have not punished Jack at all. He should have fired Punk from the jump.

Should the footage have been shown? Yes. Punk is a fucking lying narcissist who prides himself on being the realest yet he,under the guise of being some guiding veteran, tried to sabotage Perry’s career and reputation. For months, Jack has been made out like some little bitch and all he did was back away and let some 40+ year old man throw a tantrum. The Scapegoat moniker makes sense. Maybe they should have released it online.

They didn’t mention Punk once. The Bucks have been referencing Jack for weeks now since they started this EVP gimmick. Their angle was to accuse FTR of only beating them at All In because of what happened with Jack while redeeming Jack and welcoming him into the Elite. That’s the story. At the same time, it was petty. Will this convince Pepsiman diehards? No.

And this had nothing to do with WWE. It had to do with a former disgruntled employee who lied. Good fucking riddance.

That being said, this show was uncharacteristically mid. The Jerichoverse should die and Mox, Page, O’ Reilly, Thunder Rosa, or fucking someone should have had a ten minute match. The card was disappointing overall.

But regardless, we can stop creating fanfic about this stupid overblown event. If Punk were anyone else, he would have been blackballed from wrestling along with Teddy Hart. There is no excuse for attacking your fellow employee. If it were anyone else, Punk would have been arrested for assault.

Still would have preferred to see a Takeshita match.

[saintmagx]

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)

AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪

w/c: 1198

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.

“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”

Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.

“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.

Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.

Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.

“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.

“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”

The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.

“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.

“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.

Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃• 

First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)

Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!

The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!

Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.

I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!

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Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series

Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.

“I got your message, what’s up?

“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”

“So why am I here?”

“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.

Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!

Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)

Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.

I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.

“There’s my favourite girl.”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.

Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.

A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.

“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.

I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.

Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)

“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon

Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”

Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”

Away from the cameras

“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes

“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”

“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”

“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.

You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.

“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”

“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.  

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[strawberryjamsara]

Illumination Studios Your Turn To Die! Trailer

Joe voiced by Chris Pratt: Hey Sara, what did you write down for number 6 on the homework?

Sara voiced by Scarlett Johansson: Well, I thought that the opening line was a mockery of the Capulets and Montagues, saying they’re alike in dignity by subtly implying they have none.

Joe looking at his homework that says 27: Huh… so I got it way wrong.

(Tick Tock by Ke$ha starts playing)

Sara: So this facility has death traps

(Cut to Nao Reko and Sara looking into a bed of spikes)

Sara: Dolls that look and act like humans

(Cut to Ranger standing over a crying Kanna)

Ranger voiced by Ben Schwartz: Wow, all I said was that she looked like a booger. I didn’t even start the she’ll never amount to anything speech!

Kanna voiced by Eden Sher: Sou make him stop!

Sara: And these collars we can’t begin to understand. Do you have any idea who could’ve done this detective?

Keiji voiced by Danny Devito: Give me a second Sara.

Keiji making a doll of Shin slap itself in the face repeatedly: Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?

Sara: Ugh.

(Get ready…)

Nao voiced by Kristen Schaal: You know Professor Mishima says not to use violence against others…

Qtaro voiced by Seth Rogan: Well, that’s a good lesson-

Nao: BUT THE PROFESSORS DEAD! EAT THIS PAN!

Kai voiced Jonathan Banks: That’s not mine is it?

Nao: Too late! I got him! Take that!

(For your turn…)

Shin voiced by Tom Kenny: I sometimes feel like the only intellectual in a death game full of morons.

Sara: Didn’t I see you crying because you fell trying to stack chairs to reach something on a high shelf?

Shin: … And the morons are planning my downfall.

Keiji: Actually, you had the downfall.

Shin: CAN YOU LET ME MONOLOGUE IN PEACE?!

(This summer…)

Reko voiced by Kimberly Brooks: You’re not gonna tell them who you are.

Alice voiced by Charlie Day: I’m not gonna tell them who I am.

Nao: What are you guys talking about?

Alice: I’m not gonna tell you.

Reko: (Facepalms)

(This summer…)

Joe: Me and Gin are gonna beat the bad guys!

Sara: And how are you gonna do that?

Gin voiced by Tara Strong: Apparently, Safalin has a cat allergy, meow!

(Will be time for…)

Sara: Now you’ll see what happens when you mess with a Samurai Woman

(Your Turn To Die)

Midori voiced by James Charles: Ooooooooh. Well, show me what you got Sara

(Coming to a theater near you)

[mama-qwerty]

Wade's Bedroom

Okay. So, in the trailer for the Knuckles series, we see Knux take out a bounty hunter in what appears to be Wade's bedroom. I'm thinking this is his bedroom at his mother's house, so when he was a teen.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they decorate their personal space. And since I love Wade and am on my knees begging for better characterization, I wanna see what they put in the guy's bedroom.

Let's break it down.

1 - Little Robots

I can't tell exactly what robots these are, whether they're action figures from games or movies, or some model kits he's built himself. If they're models it shows Wade spent a lot of time on his own, and had the opportunity to focus on building something that required attention and patience.

2 - Books

There are a lot of books on his shelves, and the ones especially between Knux and the bounty hunter look like a series. Obviously we can't read the titles, but Wade strikes me as someone who'd enjoy manga, and the Choose Your Own Adventure stories.

3 - A Little Rainbow Sticker

This may indicate he knows someone who is LGTBQ+, or possibly he himself is. Or maybe he just likes rainbows.

4 - "Pistol" Pete Whipple poster

I'm not exactly sure how Pete is related to Wade, but I'm going under the assumption that Pete is his uncle. (Cary Elwes is 20 years older than Adam Pally, so while it's possible he's a brother, it's unlikely.) Here's this very impressive and 'famous' Whipple, who everyone looks up to and admires. (I'm assuming.) Wade feels so unimportant, he has this poster to remind him that he's related to greatness, and maybe he too can be important some day.

5 - Addams Family movie poster

I'm pretty sure this is the first movie, and Wade likes it because it shows people who are strange, people who don't look or act like everyone else, people who have odd hobbies and interact with the world in their own unique manner. And yet they love each other, Gomez in particular would do anything for his brother. Considering the nonchalant way his sister and mother behaved when he was yanked off the porch in the trailer, maybe Wade never really felt a connection like that.

6 - Robin Hood Prince of Thieves movie poster

The most famous example of helping those less fortunate than you, and being a hero to those on the receiving end of that help. Wade wants to help people. He wants to stand up for those who can't. I have no idea what his relationship with his father is/was like, but maybe the whole 'stand up to a corrupt authority' resonated with him for personal reasons as well.

7 - Speed movie poster

Maybe he wished he was Keanu Reeves, the hero with a calm head and always knew what to do. Maybe he always pictured himself as Sandra Bullock, an average person pulled into something dangerous and assuming an important role that helps save others.

8 - Ren and Stimpy poster

Okay, so he's a teen boy in the 90s. He's gonna like that gross-out humor.

9 - Total Recall movie poster

This movie is about an average joe who discovers he's actually someone Very Important. Wade has always thought of himself as a nobody. Deep down he wants to be someone Very Important. At least someone competent who isn't brushed off as a joke.

10 - TMNT bedsheets (and he was wearing a TMNT shirt under his robe before he's dragged down the street)

Obviously he's a man of good taste. But again, a group of teens fighting bad guys. The man just wants to be a hero so badly.

Based purely on the way he acts as an adult (and I'm trying to look past the "oh boy isn't he dumb!" pathetic characterization the movies have so far given him) I see Wade as a lonely man. He's likely never had many friends, always feels like the odd man in every situation, and just isn't very comfortable in his own skin.

In the trailer scenes where Knuckles decides to train Wade, there are posters and notes tacked all over the room with encouraging messages to himself regarding working out. Maybe he's trying to change his image because he thinks that will make others like him more. Maybe he's just trying to get a date. Maybe he's wrestling with his own self-worth.

Whatever is going on with Wade, I think pairing him with Knuckles is a good way to have them both realize things about themselves they'd never known before. Wade will help Knux realize that it's okay to let his guard down and enjoy himself, and Knuckles can help show Wade that there's more to him than anyone (including himself) thinks.

Maybe I'm waaaaay off base with these. Maybe I'm thinking way too hard about it. Wouldn't be the first time. But I love Wade and I really want to understand him, and hope to see him grow and become more confident by the end of the series.

[yanderelovlies]

𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓃'𝓉.

note: this is a modern time set. I'm in a Joesph mood, so here I am. I'm gonna have a part 2 for this either tomorrow or the day after.

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ

Character(s): Joseph

TW: none.

"boyfriend....for hire?"

The short red head in front of you nodded. she leaned in close, resting her chin on her hand as she smirked. "Yep. that right there will solve all your problems."

you looked up from the paper clearly unamused by your friends' antics. "What are you talking about Vex?"

Her eyes narrowed, but her grin never wavered. "Well, you were just bitching about your upcoming family dinner, and how your parents keep trying to set you up....You know some will even sleep with you after times up."

You gasped before glaring at her "Vex"

she leaned back, putting her hands up in defense. "I'm just saying~ I mean, what could it hurt?"

You looked back down at the paper, still unsure. "It feels... wrong."

Vex shrugged before crossing her arms over her torso. "Give it some thought. you got a week before the dinner. just uh... let me know how it goes?"

.

You sighed, looking down at the same paper from a few days ago. You had been debating if you should or not. You understood your parents were worried, but you weren't ready to hear it again. With shaky hands, you reach for your cellphone and slowly type in the number. With a deep breath, your pressed call quickly brings the phone to your ear.

It rang a few times before a female automated voice came through. "Thank you for calling callin' for love~. Please wait for representatives to help you." Soothing jazz began to play through the speaker, only making you more anxious. You just wanted to get it over with waiting and make you overthink.

God, what if this was a mistake? what if they turned out to be a murder? what if they - "Thank you for calling callin'" for love, my name is Jasper. How can i help you?" you paused for a minute. someone was there. "Hello?"

"h-hello?"

"Hello! how can I help you...?"

"y/n, and um, I'm looking to hire a boyfriend f-for a family dinner?" God, you hated this so much! it felt so embarrassing!

"Sounds great, y/n!" You could hear the typing of her keyboard ad she spoke. "Now, in order to find the man perfect for the job, do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?"

you nodded, forgetting she couldn't see you before responding "yes"

"Great!"

.

the questions took a good couple of minutes with her cracking a few jokes, making loosen up a bit. "Well, good news, darling. we have the perfect match for you! Give me a minute to transfer you to him."

"What his name?"

"His name is Joesph, and he is an actor."

you gasped "an actor? Why is he doing this job?"

Jasper giggled. "Why not ask him yourself?" Before you could respond, the jazz from before came back on making you slightly nervous again.

.

Joseph's feet rested on his coffee table as he scrolled through social media. He thought it was funny how his children's show captured more than children's attention. Scrolling through the latest fanart became his new favorite hobby.

An alarm siren rang through the speakers of his phone at the caller contact of his side job shown on his phone. Sighing, he picked up the call, his head falling back on the cushion. "Joesph speaking."

"Hey Joe! it's Jasper I got a job for you if your intrested."

He hummed, mulling it over. Having the extra money wouldn't be so bad, and it would be nice to go out. "Okay, Jasper. fill me in."

.

The jazz music continued to play as your anxiety grew. what if she was having more trouble than she let on. oh God, this was a bad idea! maybe you sho-.

"Hello? y/n?"

you paused again, not ready for whoever was on the other line. it certainly not Jasper anymore the voice deep and a males. "h-hello?" Your voice was quiet, and meek I'm return making you cringe slightly.

You heard an airy chuckle before he continued. "It's nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Joseph. now I'm assuming you're calling this line for specific reasons?"

"y-yes. I have a family dinner coming up....I really dont want to hear it from them..." You rubbed the back of your neck, glad you weren't making eye contact with the guy.

"I hear ya doll. My coworkers are the same way. So what day is this family get together?"

"Um, this saturday?"

You hear some rustling followed by papers being flipped before he settled down. "That's perfect, actually. I'm off that day so we can arrive together to make it more believeable."

oh God, this is really happening! you were gonna introduce a total stranger to your family just to get them off your back. "c-can we meet the day before? I'll pay for it if I need to!"

He hummed in thought "mmm how does dinner sound then? We have a day of filming that Friday, but I can meet you for dinner?"

Once again, you nodded before giving a verbal response. "That sounds fine. Um, do you know that mom and pops Cafe on first?"

"Cara's Cafe?"

"Yes! how does that sound."

he chuckled again, putting down whatever paper he was holding. "Sounds great, doll. Here, let me give you my number so we can keep in contact."

.

It was a good thing you took his number when you did. Due to come technical issues, filming took longer than he thought, so he texted you to let you know.

So now you sit at the booth staring out the window, trying to calm your nerves. it wasn't a real date. Yet you were still meeting a stranger like it was. "I should've had Vex ghost our date."

As soon as sighed the bell above the door rang. Looking up and away from the window, your eyes meet with the one most beautiful brown eyes. The mam attached to them wasn't hard to look at either. If you didn't believe he was an actor before, you certainly did now.

He talked with the waitress before making his way to your table. "y/n?" You go to stand up, but he stopped you simply holding his hand out for you to shake, smiling down at you. "It's fine, really. It's nice to finally meet you."

You take his hand, giving him a nervous smile. "y-you too, Joesph."

"Joe is fine, doll." He sat down across from you, the smile never leaving his face.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, seeing as we have to pretend we didn't just meet each other recently, I would say so." He shrugs

"Okay... Joe," it felt weird saying his name in such a friendly manner despite just knowing him, but at the same time, it felt....nice?

"So I'm assuming you wanted to early to get to know me better." You nodded,"Smart. Then let's get started, doll."

.

The "date" went pretty well, you felt. You leaned the basics of his life and even got to hear what him and his costars. He seemed somewhat laid back, which put you at ease. You might even have to thank Vex later for the suggestion.

A knock bounced off the walls of your quiet living room as you placed the finishing touches on your outfit. "coming!" You called gathering your phone and keys.

When you opened the door, you had to stop gasping. He dressed really nicely. it wasn't a suit and tie, but damn did he look good.

He eyes you up and down, giving a low whistle. "Damn, you clean up nicely, doll." He held out his elbow for you to take. "Are you ready?"

You shut and lock the door behind you before wrapping your arm around his own. "You know I could say the same thing about you."

He chuckled, watching your movements. "What can I say? I wanted to leave an impression."

The two of you were making your way to your car when you scoffed. "On my parents? why? you will only see them once."

"Who says I wanted to impress them?"

When the two of you got close, you unlocked your car. However, before you could open the door to the driver's seat, Joesph beat you to it, opening the door for you. You turned to him face slightly red with a raised eyebrow. "Man, you really want to be hired again, huh?"

He smirked and simply shrugged. when you got into the car, he shut the door before making his way to the other side and climbing into the car. "Show me your music taste doll."

.

Joseph would be lying if he said it wasn't awkward at first. He was surrounded by strangers, but he played the role of boyfriend pretty well. Their father even seemed to take a liking to him, even asking for his help with the grill, and even bring him a cold one whe. got one.

The can opened with a pop followed sizzling from the carbonation before he took a long swig of the drink. "So how did you and my kid meet?"

Joesph had just opened his can when he looked up at your father. "Online dating. They just...stood out to me."

Your dad looked him up and down as if trying to determine if he was telling the truth. "Did you find out what the something was yet?"

"No, but I plan sticking around to find out and after."

Your dad smiled, patting him on the back. "Good man, Joe. Now come on! these burgers aren't gonna flip themselves!"

.

You watched from afar as Joesph interacted with your family. He was certainly putting his acting skills to use as he happily talked with your father and uncle. Not only did he get along with adults, but the kids seemed to love him as well. always showing him the things they color or make in minecraft. God, how has he not settled down by now?

"You made a good choice hun." You jumped slightly as your mom stood beside you, watching the crowd with you. "Heck even your dad likes him, and that's feat of its own."

You hummed, taking a drink of the drink in your hand. "Yeah. It kinda surprising, honestly."

Your mom chuckled. "Me too, but he must see something in him. It must be your sign."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes if only she really knew. "Come on, mom, let's finish these sides before dads finished."

She watched you uncertain for a few seconds before nodding. "You're right. You know how your father doesn't like to eat cold burgers."

.

As the night came to a close, you couldn't help but feel anxiety. Due to your families curiosity, you didn't get to spend much time with Joe. At first, you didn't mind, but the more he interacted with your family or they said something sweet about him, you couldn't help but feel your heartache.

At first, you didn't understand why, but the more you thought about it, the more you couldn't deny that he was perfect. He got along with your family, polite to you, and even seemed to care as he would constantly check in with you through the evening. It felt almost cruel.

You knew from the start that this was all fake. You knew after tonight that you may never see him again. Yet your heart yearned for more. For something you felt you couldn't have.

"Is everything okay dear?"

You nodded "yeah sorry mom, ....just tired. Work and all."

You could feel her eyes on you before turning back to crowd "Your just like your father in that aspect. Lean on Joe a bit more. let him lighten your load."

You sighed "I think it's time for us to go mom. I still have work in the morning.

she nods in understanding, opening her arms to you. You wrapped your arms around her in a warm hug. "I understand, and please, you guys, come see us soon."

"We will, mom."

.

The car ride home felt weird. You both sat quietly as the soft sounds of the music you were playing flowed through the speakers. You wanted to say something anything really, but you didn't know what.

Joseph seemed to be thinking the same thing since he was the first to speak up. "You have a nice family doll... So friendly and loving."

You smiled, your eyes still trained on the road ahead. "Thank you...We try."

he hummed in response as the music began to fill the gap again. "You know this went so well it makes me feel like I should meet your family next." As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt yourself cringe.

Joesph was silent before letting out an unamused huff. "I would rather you not." You opened your mouth to apologize for making the comment, but Joesph continued before you could."They are awful. I would rather you meet my coworkers."

You closed your mouth, unsure how to take that comment. As you pulled into your driveway, putting the car in park, you sat there for a minute. You thought Joesph would have gotten out of the car as soon as it was parked with an awkward goodbye, but he didn't.

Instead, he stayed in the car with you, his eyes trained on you. "I....had a really good time, Joe. Maybe I can find another excuse to hire you again."

"Hmmm, counter offer. What if instead we go on an actual date? No company involved. Just us." You turned to him surprised only to be met with a slightly nervous look on Joseph's face. "I had a good time too, and I know a good thing when I see it. If you're down for it, I want to keep this good thing going."

You watched him for a couple minutes waiting for the got you moment, but it never happened. He looked at you earnestly yet nervously, waiting for your response. "Okay, let's try it."

[turtle-steverogers]

Okay so I've have this idea ever since I watched Endgame and I can't figure out how to make it work pothole wise but I have to share with you.

So you know the part where Tony and Steve go back in time to the 1970s? Ever since I watched that I was like "What if something goes wrong and they accidentally end up in Steve's childhood instead??" I know you like A+ parenting from Joseph Rogers and I can't stop thinking about Steve and Tony's tumbling on top of a scene between little Steve and angry Joe Rogers.

Just imagine, first they're simply standing in front of like, a run-down building and they're both kind of confused of why they're there but then they see this little tiny kid playing with marbles or something next to the street. And Tony is busy processing the fact that they're in the wrong year and that the kid looks like Steve and that he looks so small and thin.

So he doesn't realize that Steve tenses up when they hear a shout from the building. And they look up to see a burly man come out looking mad and maybe a little bit drunk and little Steve scrambled to pick up his marbles but Joe grab him first and is yelling at him with his fingers in a vice grip around his arm.

And Tony looks at Steve and Steve is pale as a sheet and doing that thing where you revert back to how you were in that time because you haven't processed any of the feelings you had then, and Tony figures out what's going on in a horrifying abrupt flash of realization.

(And then maybe Tony steps into confront the dad, despite knowing it's going to influence the timeline. I don't know about that though because it will just cause more problems for little Steve once they leave so maybe he tries and then big Steve is like no don't! And then they have to talk about it.)

Like I said I can't figure out how to write this scene because it doesn't make any sense for both of them to somehow land in the 1920s and also how on Earth are they going to get to the '70s if they run out of Pym particles etc but I don't care because I want to see it so bad.

Oh god, logistics be damned, because i’m just picturing the scene

-

“Ah, shit--”

“What the hell?”

It happens so fast that Steve loses his footing, crashing backwards and nearly bringing both him and Tony down as he’s yanked bodily into an alleyway. He stumbles, straightens, blinking hard against the blood rushing from his head before Tony’s grip on his arm tightens hard enough that Steve winces. 

“We’re in the wrong place,” Tony says.

“What?” Steve is certain he must have heard him wrong. He must have, because the city is loud around them and cars are whirring by in what has to be afternoon traffic, children yelling down the street, some kid hawking papers and kicking up a flock of pigeons as he shouts, “Paper! Getcha paper! Family dies in horrific car accident, went straight offa the Bridge! Two cents!”

And it’s a lie. Steve knows it’s a lie, because he used to lie to sell papers for the entire two years he hawked them back in ‘25, because his dad was blowing all their money on whiskey and gin and they needed to eat. 

“Oh god.” He turns, head on a slow swivel, looking around. 

He knows this alleyway. He knows this street, the buildings, tall and laden with clotheslines, running from fire escape to fire escape like veins bleeding life into the city. 

They’re in the wrong place. They’re in the wrong time. 

He looks at Tony, who looks just as stricken as he looks back. 

“We messed up,” Tony says. “Big time. Except we totally didn’t mess up, because I am positively certain that we put in the right date and time and this isn’t New Jersey, this definitely isn’t New Jersey.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve agrees, and he looks at the street. Dares to look, because he knows if he angles himself just right, he’ll see his old building. The one he lived in with his ma and dad, then just his ma, then eventually Bucky and--

He squeezes his eyes shut. He needs to think. About the mission, about the Pym Particles that were evidently wasted when someone or something sent them to the wrong place and time. Not about the familiar smell of the city street. Dust and motor oil and the faint scent of boiled corn. Not about ghosts that are drifting around him. Not about the fact that if he cranes his neck just so…

“We need to-- I don’t know what we need to do, but we need to do something. Fuck, what year is it even? We’re-- where are we? I don’t even know where we--”

“Brooklyn,” Steve says, opening his eyes. He can’t quite breathe, the reality of the situation settling in. Tugging at his ribcage. He’s going to vomit, he thinks. Maybe. “I don’t know when, but we’re in Brooklyn. Sometime around my time.”

“Okay, so this is definitely targeted, because that is way too specific to be a random mistaken coincidence,” Tony rambles, tapping frantically on his Time-Space GPS. 

It’s no use. Steve knows it’s no use, because they’re out of Pym Particles. Collectively. And there’s no way of letting the others know about their predicament. 

They’re stuck. They’re well and truly stuck. 

Steve should feel more panicked, he knows that, but he’s stuck, incapable of moving. Of feeling anything other than abject horror as he finally gives into the urge to shift his gaze, lean slightly to the side, and look around toward his old building.

Kneeling on the front steps is a little boy, knobbly knees folded on the ground as he leans over, rolling some marbles around on the ground with great focus. His blond hair is dirty, falling in front of his eyes, which he reaches up to push out of the way, and Steve recognizes his clothes-- the brown, wool shorts he liked to wear and a ratty gray button up pulled out of the waistband. He’s barefoot, because it’s warm out, and it never mattered if he was wearing shoes or not when it was warm out. In fact, it made his leg braces easier to wear, which are fastened around his legs at an uncomfortable angle.

“1924,” he says.

Tony stops his rambling, and Steve realizes he's been talking to him. 

“What?”

“It’s 1924.”

Tony frowns, looking at him. “How do you know?” He follows Steve’s gaze, then freezes next to him. “Oh my god, that’s not-- is that--”

“Yeah,” Steve says, feeling like he might pass out as he watches his little self shift around, tugging at the straps of his leg braces, trying to stop them from digging into his calves so hard. His fingers flex at his side, and he can almost still feel the dull ache in his knees. “That’s me. Fuck. Oh my god.”

And he remembers this. Remembers the way the marbles felt in his hand, remembers being sad because Bucky had been out of town with his family that week, so he had no one to play with. Remembers what’s about to happen next--

“Fuck, there you are, boy!” 

Steve can just make out the words over the throng of the city, knows people are looking, but it’s not out of the ordinary for the time, so no one is stopping. No one in the city ever stops. Not for business that isn’t theirs. 

“Oh my god,” Tony says next to him, and Steve’s eyes are glued on the scene as a man comes barreling out of the building, burly and tall and looming, going straight for the little boy on the steps. The stuff of Steve’s nightmares, all wild eyed and sweaty. He’d been real mean that week. Work had laid him off when he failed to show up for the millionth time, too drunk to know up from down, and Steve and his marbles had paid the price. “Is that-- who’s that?”

Steve swallows, tastes biles, makes his throat work.

“My dad.”

There’s a pause. They’re both still watching as his dad yanks on his little self’s arm. The marbles slip out of his grip. He starts crying as a few tumble down the drain, and he tries to yank himself away, tries to go after them, but he’s too little. 

“I thought he died in the war.”

Steve sways. He doesn’t know how he’s still standing. All the blood has rushed away from his head, pooling in his stomach, making it churn. He hasn’t thought about his dad in years. Hasn’t let himself.

“Yeah,” he says. “He might as well have.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

His dad is dragging him up the steps, slapping him hard across the face when he starts to wail.

“That fucker,” Tony spits next to him, taking a few steps forward, and he sounds angrier than Steve has heard in a while. It startles him, and he reaches out, grabs Tony’s bicep.

“Tony, wait-- what are you--”

“Shit, I can’t just let him--”

They tussle for a moment as Steve manages to drag Tony back. He can’t let him go out there, can’t let him mess up the timeline.

“You’re gonna fuck this up worse for us if you go out there,” Steve says, backing them both further into the alleyway. 

He doesn’t need to look to know he’s gone deadweight, crying on his way up the steps, his dad wrestling with him to stand up, quit crying, quit being a goddamn sissy.

Tony’s expression is stricken, eyes wide and tight and Steve kicks himself, remembering that Howard had not been kind either. At least from what he’s gathered. He has never considered him and Tony to be much the same in any sense, but maybe they share more pain than he thought. 

“Besides, if you go out there and try to help, he’s only going to-- he’s gonna--” Steve stops talking, mouth too dry. 

He remembers the time George Barnes had tried to intervene after Bucky had told him that Steve’s dad hit him sometimes. The beating he’d gotten that night for messing with his dad’s reputation had been debilitating. He’d had to miss school for two days, and Bucky had cried when he saw him next, apologizing for getting him hurt.

Steve had hugged him, and they’d been okay. But no one had ever tried to intervene again.

Tony studies his face, and Steve can’t look him in the eye. Abruptly, he lets go of Tony’s arm, lungs compressing. He never wanted anyone to know, and it feels like his entire soul is on display, all old pains and exposed skin. Hand-shaped bruises and cigarette burns on the ghost of himself.

He’s told himself it’s fine. War had been worse, watching his home get ravaged by aliens had been worse. But he’s learning that there is no worse. No quantifying pain. Not when it raised him.

“Okay,” Tony says, his tone quiet. Understanding. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Steve shifts, looks down at the ground. 

“It’s fine,” he says, then clears his throat. He needs to focus. They need to focus. “We need to figure out how to get the fuck out of here.”

Tony shakes himself, even though he still looks deeply disturbed. 

“Right,” he says, looking down at the Time-Space GPS. “Okay, right, okay.”

Steve turns, casting one last glance to the stoop of the rundown building. It’s empty now, and he closes his eyes, letting the tears well. He’s scared, he realizes. As scared as he was in that moment, confused why his dad hates him and sad that he lost his marbles. He wants to cry for that little boy. He wants to pull him into a hug and tell him that he’s not dirty or bad. That the pain will wane, then wax again. 

That he will survive, and keep going, just like he always does. 

-

They find the glitch in the system, the diversion sent from some future version of evil to throw them off the scent of the Pym Particles. It’s easy enough to maneuver their way through Camp Lehigh and get more, once they make it there, then the world ends again and Steve watches his friends nearly die and his shield breaks.

It’s hell. Concentrated, fast moving hell.

And then the world is still again.

He’s tired, he thinks as he sits on Tony’s dock. The rest of the team are inside, celebrating another win. Celebrating him passing a new shield off to Sam-- one Tony had graciously crafted him once they made it back home. 

He’d slipped away some time after toasts were being made, waving Bucky away when he tried to follow. He needs to be alone, just for a bit. He needs to breathe, to watch the water ripple beneath his feet and listen to dragonflies buzz over the water.

It isn’t often that he’s taken the time to slow down. To breathe, and appreciate the world as it is, whole and teeming with life. He thinks maybe now that he’s retired, he ought to do that more.

Maybe he’ll take up hiking. Or something. Maybe Bucky will join him, always being one for adventure himself. Rolling up his jeans to wade out into the waters of Coney Island, just so he can feel the sand between his toes, Becca on his back, kicking the water and splashing Steve, who’d been following close behind. 

“Spangles, I thought I’d find you out here, looking all morose and contemplative.”

Steve looks over to see Tony approaching him, limping, his arm still in a sling. It had been a near catastrophic feat, using his own gauntlet to snap Thanos out of existence, but he’d done it and made it out alive.

“Yup, that’s me, morose and contemplative Steve.” He shifts over, letting Tony sit. 

It feels final in a way. Like they’re finally past whatever barrier kept them at odds for so many years. It seems that this time, the world ending had finally cemented their trust in each other. 

“Saw you slip away from the party,” Tony says. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just needed some quiet,” Steve says. They’re sitting close enough that Steve can hear Tony’s heartbeat with his enhanced hearing. It’s a comfort. “How’s your arm?”

“Oh, you know, a little achy, a little crisp. I still haven’t been able to truly wash it, aside from sponge baths, so it’s definitely a little ripe, too, but it’s getting there.”

Steve snorts, long since used to Tony’s chronic oversharing.

“Well, I’m glad it doesn’t hurt too bad?”

“Not too bad, no,” Tony says. It’s quiet for a moment, and they watch a gray heron land on a log. Steve takes a mental picture of it to draw later. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was your dad like that a lot?”

Steve sighs. He’s been wondering when this would come up. They didn’t talk about it after the fact-- there hadn’t been any time-- but the space between them has felt thick with the unsaid, even with everything going on.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” He hears the shake in Tony’s voice, and looks at him. “How old were you when we were there?”

“Six,” Steve says. “It was three days before my birthday.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony says. “Did anyone know?”

“Bucky did, but no one else. He died when I was nine, and I told everyone after that that he’d died in the war. It messed him up good.” 

“Damn,” Tony says. “Look, I know we’ve had our moments. Like, really tough moments, but I care about you, yeah? I give a damn, even if I’m still learning the correct ways to show that.” He shakes his head, licks his lips. Steve watches him, holding his breath. “Just… I’m here for you, okay? I know what it’s like having a shitty dad, and mine never-- never hurt me like that, but he messed me up plenty good in other ways. So if you ever, I don’t know, want to talk about it, or just need someone who you don’t have to explain yourself to, I’m here.”

It’s the most vulnerable they’ve voluntarily been around each other, and Steve reaches out, placing his hand over Tony’s on the pier. The one that isn’t injured. His skin is warm. They’re both here, broken parts of a whole. With an exhale, Steve feels like they’ve finished a chapter, ready to start a new one, on the same page.

“Thank you, Tony. I’m here, too.”

[ananxiousgenz]

TPP HADESTOWN AU PART 4

ANOTHA ONE. i am so sorry guys, but the muse has possessed me and i literally cannot stop writing. this is no longer a flash fic. i am now a slave to the au. this time will be a direct continuation of part 3 because honestly i wanted to keep writing that but i also just wanted to post it so consider this a kind of part 2 to part 3 if that makes sense

tpp mutuals come get your juice!!! @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde

when he said his name, juno heard it.

ringing in the background like the hum of a crystal wine glass.

the song.

when peter nureyev said his name, the song echoed with it.

"your name has the same melody," juno breathed, eye wide and searching for some kind of answers on the face of this strange, beautiful man. how could his name have the song of spring laced through it?

nureyev shot him a sideways look and took a sip of his drink. "so. what do you do for a living, lady who's going to marry me?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and looking juno over with a gaze he could only describe as skeptical.

"oh! well, I work here at the bar with rita. she's over there. but you've met her already so I don't know why I'm introducing her."

rita gave a friendly wave from her perch behind the bar.

"I also, um. I, uh. I sing. sometimes. not all the time. i'm not bad at it. typically when I do sing, someone will give me a couple bucks. it's nice. oh, and uh, I can play guitar too, but I haven't done it in years, and to be honest, I don't really want to-"

nureyev cut juno off, looking away disinterestedly and downing the rest of his drink. "that's nice. so you're like all the other bar workers in existence. that doesn't exactly sound like something I'd want to marry."

suddenly, the butterflies that had been gradually building in juno's stomach began to unexpectedly drop dead.

"heyyyyyyy, that's not very nice, mista nureyev. mista steel isn't like all the otha ladies you eva met! he's a very supa awesome lady who I love workin' with and-oh oh oh! mista steel! you GOTTA tell him about that song you're workin' on! it's so pretty! and important! I'm sure mista nureyev would LOVE to hear about that!" rita cried, bounding off the bar and hustling over to deliver another drink to the table.

"oh, uh, yeah! I'm working on this song to bring spring back again," juno said, feeling mildly embarrassed that rita brought it up with this man who was still basically a total stranger. "it's not done, honestly, it needs a lot of work. but, when i'm finished with it, it will hopefully fix.....everything."

"wait just a moment." nureyev's brow furrowed and juno's stomach twisted at the sight. even when he was skeptical and defensive and bone-tired, he was still so damn attractive. gods, what juno wouldn't give to just kiss him right now- focus, steel, he's trying to talk to you-

"so you say this song will bring spring back again?"

"yup! at least it should."

"that's...." nureyev placed a finger over his lips in thought. "I haven't seen a proper spring in at least a decade, maybe more. the world has been so wrong in recent years... I shudder to think where it would all end up without the return of warmer weather."

"well, that's the idea with the song. I want to fix it. all of it. when the song is done it should put the world back on track. more sunshine, springs, falls, rain and flowers. you know. all the stuff that's just sort of been missing. maybe you could help me out with it!" juno grinned a bit sheepishly.

"and why would I want to help?" his eyes were cold, almost as cold as the biting wind and frost outside, but juno thought he saw the beginning of a thaw at the edges of his facade.

"because, mista nureyev. he's real good at makin' people feel like life is worth livin' again with that music of his. also, he makes the BEST chocolate cake i've eva had! and frannie agrees with me!" rita chimed in, cleaning the bar top as best she could with her short stature.

juno snorted involuntarily, marveling at rita's ability to constantly be focused on food. "it's true, I won a local competition a few years back for that cake."

nureyev's face had half a smile on it now, and the butterflies in juno's stomach turned into a hurricane.

"so you can make people feel alive again? that's quite a gift, juno. but what else can you offer me?"

"huh?"

"say, for example, if we were to get married. who would pay for the wedding rings? times have been hard, and gold is scarce. how would you do it?"

juno thought for a moment. "the rivers. they've got plenty of gold in them, and if my song works, they'll give it all to us for wedding rings."

nureyev's eyes glinted with something juno suspected was either curiosity or suspicion.

"what about a wedding feast? or a bed? good food and better beds are hard to come by these days. what would you do about that, juno?"

"the trees would take care of the wedding feast, and the birds would take care of the bed."

"with your song." nureyev cocked an eyebrow as though it was a question.

"well, yeah, of course."

"you talk a lot about that song. why don't you sing it for me?"

a wave of panic stuttered through juno's mind. "I can't. I told you it's not finished."

"you said you wanted to take me home and marry me, is that true?

a sly smile crossed nureyev's face, and goddammit it only made juno want him even more. "yes," he breathed.

"then sing the song for me, juno."

juno hesitated, then nodded in spite of himself. he shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help it.

he was in love.

and lovers need the spring like a flower needs sunshine. so he'd sing the sunshine back for peter nureyev.

he stepped back, breathed in, and let the notes flow from him like water from a faucet. the song flooded the room, hitting the walls and rushing back to his ears in perfect harmonies, and for a moment, he was back in that wheat field with benten, strumming guitar as he danced like a pheonix rising from the ashes, spinning around and around and around like he was the center of the universe.

and then the song ended. and juno was back in a shitty roadside bar, holding a perfect dahlia in his left hand, with peter nureyev staring at him now, eyes wide and sparkling.

"that's...... you...... how did you do that?" nureyev asked quietly, standing from the table on unsteady legs and taking the dahlia to examine it with shaking hands.

"i didn't do that, the song did," juno muttered as nureyev gently touched the immaculate petals of the dahlia, still damp with dew. rita beamed at juno from the bar and gave an overenthusiastic thumbs-up. juno just rolled his eyes again.

peter nureyev looked at him then, all of the previous frostiness gone from his eyes and something like amazement and love and hope spilling through them.

juno decided that he liked it when he looked like that. it made him feel like he really could fix the whole damn world with that song of his.

nureyev seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and slipped the dahlia into the buttonhole of his traveling coat. "so, what time does your shift end, my dear juno?"

juno thought for a minute. "uhhhh, the bar closes around 10. why?"

his eyes gleamed like a pair of stars as a smile twinkled on his lips. "didn't you say you were going to marry me?"

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

The First Time

Pairing: JoeKeeryxReader

Request: This was a long request so I will sum it up. Based off new photos of him shopping. You and Joe met in Italy while he was filming Cold Storage. You spent time together but he wound up lacking time because of shooting. He brings you to New York because he wants to spend time with you and you're nervous because you're a virgin. Joe is wonderful, as would be expected, warm and sweet and patient.

I hope I did your request justice. 😊😘

@minty-fox-candyyki

18+ ONLY

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” you say to Joe, looking at the bags you both carry in your hands. He’d insisted on taking you shopping in New York City and he’d gone overboard, buying you everything you even stopped to look at. 

“I know I didn’t, but I love to spoil my baby,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your cheek. “I feel bad. I know I didn’t have a lot of time to spend with you in Italy while I was filming the movie. I just wanted to make it up to you.”

Your cheeks flamed, “You didn’t have to do that, Joe. I know you’re an actor and you’re busy.”

The truth was, you had felt a little abandoned in Italy. You knew he was busy. His filming schedule was insane and at the end of it, he was exhausted. You sometimes went days without seeing him or hearing from him. He barely had time to grab himself something to eat, let alone touch base with you. And you told yourself that was what you’d signed up for when you’d agreed to date him. He was a celebrity. There was always something, a project to film, an interview, a photo shoot. 

You told yourself that but deep down, you’d wondered. You and Joe were fairly new to dating. You’d met him one night when he’d gone out with some friends to a bar in Rome. You’d recognized him immediately. Your friends loved to tease you about your crush on Steve Harrington. Struggling to keep your heart rate in check, you’d turned your back on him, focusing on your drink. Your friends were telling you to go say hi but you couldn’t. He had no idea who you were. There was no way you could just walk up to that man, the man who’d monopolized your fantasies for year.

So, imagine your surprise when you’d heard that voice you’d know anywhere right next to your ear, asking what you were drinking. You’d been overcome, unable to speak, your friend Alessia, answering for you. Joe offered to buy you another and asked if you’d join him at a table. The two of you talked until the bar kicked you out. He’d asked for your phone number but you really didn’t expect him to use it.

You’d thought that was the end of it but then he called you two days later. He took you to lunch and then the two of you became inseparable, bike riding, meeting for gelato, touring the city, you showing him all of the sights that tourists usually missed. Then he’d began filming and the calls became fewer, the dates even more so. You assumed things were ending, a slow death to a fast relationship. But then he’d shocked the hell out of you when he asked you to accompany him to New York City and here you were, unable to say no. What woman in their right mind would turn down this beautiful man?

“I am never too busy for you,” Joe assured. “I mean, I guess I was, but it had nothing to do with you, bunny. I would have seen you every single day if I could have.” He stopped, pointing across the street. “There it is. Giano. I am telling you it is the best spaghetti pomodoro in the city. It’s no Rome, but you’ll be impressed. I promise. Come on.”

Grabbing your hand, he led you across the street and into a brick restaurant with low lighting and a wood paneled ceiling. It was beautiful, very cozy, with a candle set on each small table. This restaurant was clearly meant to be an intimate setting. He checked in with the hostess who gave him an eager grin as she twirled a piece of hair around her fingers. Of course. She looked like she was maybe twenty-two, your age, so she knew exactly who Joe Keery was and was putting on every ounce of charm for him. 

Joe appeared oblivious to her attempts, his hand coming to the small of your back, guiding you, as she led you to a table in the corner of the restaurant. The hostess shot Joe a megawatt smile, letting him know their server would be right with them and he said thanks without ever glancing up at her, his hand finding yours across the table, eyes on you. The girl looked rather miffed as she turned and huffed back to her station. 

This was what had been eating at you lately, slowly taking tiny bites out of you until you thought you would lose your mind. Joe’s previous girlfriend had been long-term serious and drop dead gorgeous. You found yourself scrutinizing every inch of your face and body in the mirror, wondering what he saw in you. The women who threw themselves at him on a daily basis were ridiculously beautiful. Compared to all of them, you felt like a frump in a potato sack half the time. You could not figure out what he was doing with you and wondered if this was just something fun for him, short-term, because it certainly wasn’t for you.

“I highly recommend the pomodoro,” Joe said, breaking through your intrusive thoughts. “I don’t even need to see the menu. It’s what I get every time I come here. Trust me, bunny, it’s…” He paused, bringing his fingers to his mouth and kissing them. “Perfecto!”

You giggled, shaking your head, “You are so ridiculous.”

“You love me and you know it,” he teased but the words caused your stomach to knot, a tense coil winding up until you thought you would double over. 

Joe could have no idea how correct he was. He was just joking but you were already in way too deep, standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the ground, waiting for the inevitable gust of wind to send you hurtling to the rocks. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, keeping your eyes focused on the menu to avoid him seeing through all that you were trying to conceal. 

Your waitress approached and Joe ordered you both a bottle of wine to share. He turned to you, offering you one of his toe curling smirks, but you quickly ducked behind the menu again, wondering why he had to be so damn perfect. It made everything so much harder. 

“Did you decide?” he asked after a long silence.

“Uh…yes. I am just going to go with the pomodoro since you swear it’s perfecto,” you stammered. 

“You won’t regret it,” Joe states, thanking the waitress when she brings the wine and ordering your entrees. He pours you a glass. It’s a bit of a heavy pour and you shoot your hand out.

“Whoa, Joe, that’s a lot of wine.”

“Didn’t you know? I’m trying to get you buzzed so I can get lucky tonight,” he commented with a laugh to let you know he was just joking. “Our first time in a hotel room all by ourselves.” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “We’ll finally be all alone, just the two of us.”

You choke on the wine you were just drinking, quickly setting your glass down, wiping your mouth with your napkin. You’d arrived at the place you’d been dreading as soon as your plane had landed this morning. Of course Joe expected you to have sex. How could he not? You’d been seeing him for two months and were grown ass adults. Obviously he thought that was the next step. The two of you all alone in a hotel room…you didn’t have to be a mathematician to figure out what he expected. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You had no idea how much you could want someone, crave someone, until Joe had come along. Many nights you’d spent, touching yourself, imagining what it would feel like if it was him. No, the problem wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was that you never had and you had no idea how to tell him that. How did you admit that you were a twenty-two year old virgin? The very thought seemed ludicrous. You’d done some other stuff but it hadn’t been as enjoyable as you’d thought it would be. Most guys worried about themselves more than you. You’d given a few blowjobs. A couple guys fingered you, their fingers slamming into you roughly until you pretended to orgasm just to put it to an end. And you’d never had a guy go down there before with his mouth. You weren’t trying to save yourself for marriage by any means but no one had ever felt worth it to be your first time. With the foreplay being so disappointing, you’d just never had a desire to go to the next level. 

With Joe, even kissing burned an inferno of desire within you. The way his full lips devoured yours as if they were the most delicious thing on the planet, pulling your bottom lip gently and sucking. The way he would tease your neck, lips, teeth, and tongue. The way his hands held you, those massive hands molding around your curves, cradling you against him. Yeah, Joe was the first guy that made you want to find out what all the fuss was about, what all your girlfriends had been talking about since you were in high school. 

But Joe, you knew he had to be quite experienced and you feared you would be a disappointment to him. What if you had sex, it was horrible because you were horrible, and Joe was done with you? Your heart couldn’t take it because, whether you meant to or not, you had fallen completely in love with this man over the last couple months. 

“Hey.” Joe’s voice came, soft, concerned, as his hand covered yours on the table. “You okay, baby?”

“Huh?” Your eyes slowly found his, drowning in their tooth achingly sweet caramel depths. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. Totally good.”

“You sure about that?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised. “You kind of disappeared on me for a bit there.”

“No, I’m good.”

You were grateful when the waitress showed up with your food. Shoveling pasta in your mouth gave you an excuse to not be so talkative. Joe kept catching your gaze, the little furrow between his eyebrows letting you know he did not believe you. Suddenly, he set his fork down with a clatter and leaned back in his chair, tossing his cloth napkin onto the table. 

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he demanded.

Your eyes went wide as you slowly swallowed your mouthful of pasta. You hated to admit it, but Joe had been right. This pomodoro was just as good as any from Italy. Wiping your mouth, you laid your napkin down next to your plate.

“I told you, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

“You’re lying to me,” Joe breathed, elbows on the table, leaning toward you. “Why are you lying to me? You’re usually chatting my ear off. You’ve been weird since you got off the plane. At first I thought it was just because I haven’t had much time lately so I was trying to make it up to you but it’s more than that, isn’t it? What’s going on, bunny? What’s got you so quiet?”

“Nothing,” you insisted, shaking your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he shot back. “Come on. You can tell me anything. What’s going on? Did you not want to come to New York?”

Your mouth dropped open at his words and you shook your head vehemently, “No. No. Of course I wanted to come. I wanted to see you. I…I missed you. I…”

“You what?”

“I know we’ve been seeing each other for a couple months,” you began, realizing you were going to have to tell him. If you didn’t, he would not let this go, pestering you all night. And, like it or not, you had to face it eventually because dinner would end and you would wind up back at the hotel. “I know we should be…being intimate. I’m just really nervous about it beca…”

“Oh babe, I would never pressure you into anything,” Joe assured you, his hands taking yours, thumbs running over your knuckles. “If you’re not ready, it’s okay.”

“It’s not that. I do want to, Joe. I really do. I just…well, I mean…I’ve never…” You looked up at him from under your lashes, hoping he would get what you were trying to say because you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. 

“You’ve never?” His head tilted and you saw the moment he realized what you were saying as his eyes widened, jaw dropping, and he sat back in his seat. “You’re a virgin?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know it’s pathetic. I’m way too old. I mean, I’ve done other stuff…some stuff but sex just never seemed as exciting as everyone said. I’d give him a blowjob. He’d ram his fingers into me for a couple minutes and he’d want to move on to intercourse. I always backed out. I mean, it wasn’t enjoyable. I kept waiting to see what all the fuss was about but it never happened.”

“Okay, one, you’re not pathetic, baby. Never,” Joe insisted, shaking his head. “Two…that’s your experience? You’ve never had a guy really take care of you?”

“I mean, they fingered me…”

“Oh, bunny, it’s so much more than that.” The waitress dropped off the bill and he signed. Standing, he reached for your hand, yanking you against his chest, his lips coming to your ear. “If you’ll let me, I would love to show you what all the fuss is about.” Thick fingers trailed along your spine, shivers racing over your skin. “Let me show you exactly what all those other guys didn’t do. Can I do that?”

Biting your lip, you nodded, “Yeah.”

___________________________________________________________

Joe closes the hotel room door behind you, flipping the extra lock to ensure you aren’t interrupted. You glance over at the king sized bed, nerves making you jumpy, but you know it could be any more perfect than this for your first time. Joe is the perfect guy and that bed is the absolutely perfect spot. You’d never wanted your first time to be some crazy thing in some crazy destination. You’d always just wanted it to be in a bed, wrapped around someone you loved. That was exactly what this was, even if Joe didn’t know it. 

He turned to you, smiling, slow steps across the room until he was right in front of you. The back of his hand ran slowly along your cheek, turning, fingers trailing over your neck. 

“You are so beautiful,” Joe whispered softly, those hands slipping along the sides of your dress to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. “So damn beautiful.”

And you believed it. As his lips collided with yours, your hand tangling into that beautiful hair, you believed he meant every single word. Joe had this ability to shatter every insecurity you had about yourself, to send every negative thought flying through the air, far away where you can never hear them again.

His tongue floated over the space between your lips and you opened to him, a small moan escaping at the taste of him: basil, red wine, and the after dinner cigarette he’d enjoyed on the walk back. His tongue licked your throat, slid over yours, explored the roof of your mouth, leaving you panting at the thought of what that tongue could do elsewhere.

Joe’s fingers hooked the straps of your dress and he pulled back, eyes finding yours, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded, swallowing the clump of heated desire that was lodged in your throat. The pads of his fingers softly teased along your skin as he slid the straps off slowly, releasing the dress so it fell in a puddle at your feet. You stepped out of it, pushing it to the side with your foot. 

“Jesus, bunny, just look at you.” His eyes consumed you, running over every inch of you, and you had never felt more turned on in your entire life just from a look. Holding his hands in front of your breasts, his eyes found yours once again as he asked softly, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, eager to feel those hands on every inch of your body. 

Joe cupped your rubs, thumbs running just under your bra, that simple touch enough to have you shivering and when those thumbs moved up to run over your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra, you gasped at the sensation, heat racing straight through you and to your core, pulsing with need. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked, stepping into you, gently pinching the rosy buds between his thumb and forefinger, lips caressing your collarbone. 

“Yes…so good…” you sighed, crying out when he pinched them a little harder. 

“How about this?” Joe asked, his fingers now on the front clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

Biting your lip, you nodded, eyes closing as the feel of the cool air dancing over your bare chest as Joe flung your bra across the room. His head ducked down, mouth at your chest, his eyes asking the question again, ensuring you were okay with everything he was doing. You nodded, unable to find words and then his tongue was teasing your nipple and you saw stars, head falling back, hand tangling in his hair. 

“You like that?” he hummed, making his way to the other one. 

“Mmmhmm…” you mumbled, squeaking when teeth raked over the tender peak.

“I want to taste you, bunny,” Joe breathed, lips blazing a trail between your breasts, up your neck, and back to your lips. His hand cupped your neck, nose brushing over your cheek. “Can I taste you? Can I make you feel good, baby? Can I show you what you’ve been missing?”

“Yes, please, yes,” you pleaded, thinking you’d agree to anything this man asked of you right now. You just needed him to keep touching you. Your hands pulled at his shirt, lifting it over his head. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip as you took in the sight of him, bare chested, in front of you. You ran your fingers through the hair along his chest, delighting in the way the courseness felt against the soft pads of your fingertips. 

Joe’s arms came around you, his mouth exploring yours once again as he walked forward, backing you up until you felt the backs of your knees hit the mattress. Keeping his arms around you, he lowered you to the bed and then his lips were everywhere: your breasts, your stomach, the curve of your hip, your inner thigh. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, a little smirk on his face as he gripped your panties in his large hands. 

You nodded emphatically, wishing he would stop asking already. Your answer was yes. Yes to anything and everything. You knew he was trying to take it slow. He was being sweet and kind and you appreciated it but fuck, you just wanted to feel everything with him, you wanted to experience everything with him. 

He dragged your panties down your legs and around your ankles, tossing them to the floor. His hands came to your knees, slowly spreading you so you lay open before him. A low groan fell from his lips as he sat back on his heels, soaking the sight of you in. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so damn perfect,” he purred, nose and lips trailing over your inner thigh. 

Your legs shook in anticipation even though you’d never had this done before because you just knew with Joe, everything would be exceptional. Fingers gripped the sheets, wadding them tightly, when his nose ran through your folds, bumping over your clit. 

“Just relax for me, beautiful. I am going to make you feel so good.”

His tongue darted over your clit and you shrieked, back arching up off the bed. It moved up and down and then left and right, turning you into a writhing mess. Jesus, how had you never done this before? It was fucking incredible. You were panting, trembling, and then Joe slowed down, his tongue rolling in gentle circles around the sensitive little nub. 

“How does it feel?” he asked. “Tell me, bunny, does it feel good?”

“So…good…” you panted, your hips now rocking toward him, completely out of your control, craving more, craving him. “Holy shit, Joe. It’s so good.”

His lips wrapped around your clit and he hummed and you swore you saw heaven. Fucking angels were singing, the pearly gates, fluffy white clouds, everything. His tongue slid along you, slipping inside you, leaving your clit, but his nose kept up the work, running along it. HIs hands gripped your ass, lifting you up to him as he ravaged you. 

Something deep within you tightened, pulled taut, the walls of your pussy contracted. Every muscle in your body was tensing, rigid. You clawed at the sheets, your head darting back and forth, having no control over your body anymore.

“I’m so close, Joe…oh my god…” you moaned, eyes rolling back in your head, neck tilting. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, bunny? That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Let go for me.”

“Oh…Joe…fuck!” you screamed, stars flashing before your eyes, the cosmos opening up before you, a goddamn supernova exploding from within you. You held your breath, shuddering and then collapsed back onto the bed, gasping. “Oh fuck.” 

Joe pressed kisses along your body, crawling over top of you as he made his way to your lips. “That’s how it should be, baby. A real man would make sure his girl is taken care of. A real man would fucking worship you. So, what did you think?”

“Jesus Christ, Joe…I, I’ve given myself an orgasm hundred of times but it’s never felt like that. That was incredible.”

“Good,” he smiled, lying down next to you, the backs of his fingers running over your skin. 

“Joe?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I want…” You bit your lip, nervous to ask, but you knew what you wanted. You wanted this man, every single part of this man. “I want you, Joe. I want you to be my first.”

His head tilted slightly, brow furrowing, “You sure? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for just because I want to. I told you. I don’t mind waiting for you if you need more time.”

“I don’t want more time,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I just…I got in my head that you would think it was weird that I was a virgin and I know you’re very well experienced. All these girls are always throwing themselves at you and I get it. I do. You’re Joe Keery. You’re Steve Harrington. And you’ve dated gorgeous women and I just…didn’t understand why you chose me.”

“Hey.” Joe grabbed your chin, turning your face to his. “You are a gorgeous woman and I don’t think you’re weird. If none of those guys ever took care of you, they didn’t deserve to be the one. Bunny, I am with you because from the moment I saw you in that bar, I was completely mesmerized. I knew I needed to talk to you. I knew you were something special and you are. You’re…perfect.”

You smiled, bringing your hand to his cheek, “So are you, Joe. I…I love you.”

His head pulled back and you held your breath as you waited for him to respond. A slow smile crept over his face and he gathered you in arms, kissing you deep and slow. 

“I love you too. I just didn’t want to say it too fast and scare you away,” he laughed.

“You could never scare me away,” you whispered, your hands moving between your bodies to work at the button on his pants. “I love you and I want to feel everything with you?”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Stop asking me that,” you chuckled, pushing his pants over his hips and he took them the rest of the way down, pushing them off his feet and onto the floor. 

“Hang on a second, baby,” he said, moving to his bag and pulling out a condom. He ripped the foil and slid it over himself. 

You sat up, soaking in the sight of him, fully revealed to you. Holy shit. He was magnificent. He’d told you that you were perfect but this man was perfection. 

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, enjoying the flush that crept up his neck and over his cheeks. This man who was loved by so many, who had women begging for time with him, fantasizing about him, was still so humble and that only made you love him more. 

“And you are gorgeous,” he replied, crawling back over you. He pressed his forehead to yours. “I’ll go slow, okay? You tell me if anything hurts.”

You nodded, nervous but also filled with anticipation for him to fill you, to be inside you, to connect you in the most intimate way possible. He gripped his cock in his hand, slipping it through your wetness teasingly, rubbing the tip of himself over your clit. Your hand gripped his back, holding him against you, sighing softly. 

“Are you ready?” Joe whispered. 

“Yes.”

Ever so slowly, he slid into you, inch by inch, taking his time until he bottomed out, his pelvis pressing against yours. You gasped at the sensation, stinging a bit more than you’d expected. You’d heard that being fingered made sex hurt less but then none of the guy’s fingers that had been inside you had been as thick as Joe’s cock.

“You okay?” he asked in concern, hand cupping your cheek. 

You nodded because you were. Just as fast as the stinging had begun, it stopped, your body consumed with the pleasure of Joe stretching you, filling you, making you his. 

“I’m gonna start moving a bit, okay?”

“Yeah…yeah…okay…”

Then his hips rocked, barely perceptible but the sensation was enough to make you groan, nails clawing at the flesh of his back. Encouraged by your reaction, he pulled out a little more and then slowly pressed into you again. 

“Does that feel good, bunny?” he asked.

“Yes…fuck…it’s so good…” you choked out, legs coming up around his waist, heels pressing into his lower back. 

Joe’s hips rocked faster as he ran a hand along your thigh, gripping your ass and pulling you into him. His cock hit somewhere new, creating a molten heat to spread over you like you’d never experienced. You gasped, eyes wide. Fuck, what the hell was that? He did it again and you screamed out his name, clutching at him for dear life. 

“You feel so goddamn good, baby,” Joe growled. 

Joe buried his face into your neck as he rutted within you, each press of him like lightning shocking you to your core. You’d already cum but you could feel another building already. Your nails raked down his back as your back arched and you gripped him tightly, your pleasure consuming you once again. 

“Oh fuck…that’s my girl…the way you’re gripping me…I’m so close,” he grunted, pounding into you again and again, all thoughts of being gentle lost at the feel of your walls pulsing around his length. The sound of your bodies colliding rang through the room until he roared his release, arms crushing you against him as he thrust into you one more time. Slowly, he slid from within you, his body collapsing on yours, head against your chest. “Holy shit, bunny. That was…Christ.” Lifting his head, he looked up at you, those caramel eyes full of worry. “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

“No,” you chuckled, taking his face in your hands. “No. I’m more than okay. I am perfect. I don’t think I can walk right now but I’m perfect.”

“Mmm, you sure are,” Joe mused, kissing your nose. “Let me take care of this and then we can just lay in this bed and watch a movie, naked.”

You smiled lazily, “That sounds perfect.”