#all my AUs this weekend are living rent free

[ddagent]

((🛎️)) *Crowley voice* I'm back.

Aziraphale and Crowley are strangers who are both stuck in a snowed in cabin.

Or! Regular (angel/demon) Aziraphale and Crowley use the snow as a thinly veiled excuse to justify spending time together. (Nevermind that they could miracle their way out of there)

Maybe they come up with new ways to keep warm and pass the time... 👀

Aziraphale/Crowley | Apocalypse AU | FR12 | 971 words     At the end of the world, strangers Aziraphale and Crowley are snowed-in together at Aziraphale's Soho bookshop. I hope you enjoy!

Crowley woke in a tangle of blankets, the warm weight of the Angel resting along his back. He savoured Aziraphale’s body heat for a moment: the bracket of his thighs encompassing Crowley’s own; a hand slung possessively over Crowley’s hips. There was little material providing a barrier between them – after all, the purpose of this…arrangement was to share body heat during the night. With freezing temperatures outside the Soho bookshop, it was necessary for them to cuddle in a cocoon of blankets, bodies pressed tight against each other. So what if Crowley found himself waking every morning to a pressing erection straining against his boxers? So what if he felt the outline of the Angel’s cock against the curve of his arse, leaving Crowley with an intensely explicit idea of just how well they would fit together?

They weren’t partners. They weren’t even friends. Just strangers, needing each other to survive.

Continue Reading at AO3

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

ready to be funky!

[sae-mian]

honey i shrunk the prince

[glossdebut]

study break | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff

✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words

Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.

As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.

But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.

You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.

You learned even more about him on your first date.

Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in. 

And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers. 

So. Yeah.

Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.

You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.

Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.

The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction. 

“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.

He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore. 

You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton. 

It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.

“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point. 

“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”

You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.

“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.

“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean. 

“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Maybe,” you say, goading.

He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.

“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.

“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”

Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.

You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head. 

“N-no,” you whimper.

“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”

“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”

“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker. 

You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”

Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.

“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough. 

Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.

“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”

You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.

As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him. 

Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”

Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.

“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.

“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.

His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.

It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.

He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”

“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 

Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.

“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”

That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”

“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”

That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this fic! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

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[papurgaatika]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything. 

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car. 

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.” 

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.” 

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.” 

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words. 

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly. 

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel. 

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you. 

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face. 

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms. 

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy, 

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house. 

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway. 

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes. 

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father. 

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that. 

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?” 

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass. 

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face. 

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home. 

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard. 

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed. 

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties. 

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me” 

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes,  “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again. 

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties. 

  “but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway. 

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight. 

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again. 

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?” 

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit. 

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want. 

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face. 

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry” 

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis. 

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much. 

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words. 

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes. 

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair. 

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying. 

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips. 

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Friends We Made Along The Way Modern AU Part 2

Ive been getting a couple requests for modern day kid/killer, and ive had this perona design in the works for months now. But the final straw was the realization from that one ask i got that i have nothing for Koala in my au yet. So i had to rectify that.

ASL Brothers Modern AU

East Blue Crew Modern Au

Grand Line Crew Modern Au

Friends We Made Along The way Post

additional head-canons:

Koala volunteers at the hospital that Sabo works at as a physical therapy assistant on the weekends. it is very seldom she has free time due to her department store job, doordash job, and volunteering.

Perona, along with Zoro, was a foster child to Mihawk. they both came to live with him when they were teenagers. She still lives with him, but she pays rent and their relationship is more like roommates than father-Daughter atm.

kid and killer are saying up for a trip to Hawaii. They really wanna go up the Mauna Kea mountain and breathe in it’s famously clean air.

additional koala headcanons on this post

Perona has taken up a bit of fencing lessons from Mihawk, and has generally absorbed a lot of information about swords from just being around Zoro and Mihawk all the time.

Kid lives in a very crappy building with 7 other roommates, but he winds up crashing at killer's place most of the time

Killer collects posters of movies he likes that he steals from the movie theater as they come out.

Thanks for reading 👍

[theorphicangel]

“𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”

[ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

tags: strangers to lovers, roommate au!, best friends brother, fluff, mutual pining, smut, 18+

synopsis: In a desperate search of a new roommate, you have little to no choice but to accept your best friend's / best barista in the world's offer of letting his older brother rent out the room, who just so happens to be conventionally attractive.

You swear nothing will happen between the two of you but one thing eventually leads to another and you find yourself in his bed, leading to an unofficial roommates with benefits situation.

You know deep down it's wrong and you're worried when you start catching feelings...but it's okay because it's only temporary, right?

séries | previous chapter | next chapter

chapter two: two turtle doves (that awkwardly get along)

You were right about not expecting to receive a reply from Gabriel.

You had actually tried to call him a few times, yet it ended up going to voicemail. Your best bet would be that he actually turns up for work today.

On returning back to your apartment last night, you had tried the best you could to remind yourself that you were living in an empty space again. Remembering to not make a meal for two, remembering to switch off the lights, remembering not to turn your head searching for someone to listen to the random thought that had just popped up in your head. It was hard. You couldn’t lie about that.

But with it especially being the holiday season, you can’t help but feel the prickles of loneliness brush up at your skin as you skim through the shows and movies to watch, with all the recommended Christmas romance movies popping up on the home page. Being petty, you turned off the tv and decided to give yourself an early night.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you’ve decided to decorate your apartment this upcoming weekend for Christmas. Due to MJ’s moving you would’ve had it done all up last week, but instead you were focused on helping her pack during her last few days at the apartment.

Checking the time, it’s currently 8:15am and you’re on your way to O’Hara’s. As you stroll down the busy streets of New York city, you can’t help but cross your fingers and pray to the gods above that Gabriel is in for his shift today. You don’t think you could really stand another cup of terrible coffee, no matter how compassionate you’re feeling.

Stepping into O’hara’s, the familiar ding of the bell above the door announces your arrival. Once again, it’s a small queue and you can’t help but notice the familiar cheery tone of the barista which most certainly contrasts the rough, bored voice which you had heard yesterday.

A wave of relief fills your body as you move to the front of the queue, a smile spreading across your lips.

“Buenos días.” Gabriel greets with a smile, “Did ya’ miss me yesterday?”

“Pftttttt of course not.” you murmur. “It’s not like I’d much rather the new barista yesterday who had made the world’s worst cup of coffee word to man– I don’t even know if I can call that a coffee.” you grunt, pulling a disgusted face.

Gabriel lets out a loud laugh as he taps in your regular into the till without even asking you. “You must be talking about my brother, Miguel, m’sorry about that, he was called in as an emergency. We’re low on staff.”

Your face drops at Gabriel’s words. “Your brother?! Oh shit m’sorry—”

Gabriel waves his hand at you, stopping you mid sentence. “Don’t be, we all know he’s shit. Mama couldn’t find a replacement at the last minute so she was desperate.”

“And it was an emergency?” you repeat, crossing your arms as you look him up and down.

“It’s not my fault that I got forcefully dragged to a bar against my own free will!” He exclaims. “It was bottomless Wednesday!”

You hum in response not really believing him. “So that was really your brother then?” Grabiel nods.

At the sounds of footsteps behind him, Gabriel turns his head and then quickly turns back.

“Oh, speaking of the diablo.” He mutters before calling out to his brother. “Oi Miggy, no vas a creer lo que esta chica dijo de ti." [you won’t believe what this girl said about you]

“¿Qué?”

“That you’re shit at making coffee.”

“If you’re gonna continue complaining about me then I’m not coming in to help you next time, Gabi.”

“I’ll tell mama.”

“Uh–huh.” Miguel hums in an unbelieving tone.

Now that you had Miguel standing next to his brother, you could really see their similarities and you almost wanted to kick yourself for not spotting it beforehand. They were almost the spitting image of each other, though Gabi was a little shorter and Miguel seemed to be like a total gym rat in comparison.

Miguel now looks at you, deadpanned as he was the previous day. “I’m sorry about the coffee yesterday—”

“Oh no worries, it was fine.” you lied.

“I mean, it would’ve been better if someone had actually taught me how to use the machines.” Miguel says.

“It’s common sense in my opinion.” Gabi replies hastily.

“Good thing no one asked you for your opinion.”

“Ay, callate.”

“Whatever.” Miguel trails off to the backrooms, tired of the conversation, muttering the excuse that more oat milk is needed.

“Ignore him. He’s a dick but you’ll get used to it once you’re around him more.”

“Is he working here permanently?” you ask, curious about the mysterious older brother, “You never spoke much about him, Gabi.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t around a lot. He was at university doing his post-graduate degree at Stanford Uni–”

“Stanford?” you practically shout out the word, a few heads turn in the cafe to look at you.

“Hey, keep your voice down.” Gabi warns. “But yeah, yeah, studying genetics or whatever he’s obsessed with at the moment. He’s moved back in with us…in fact that’s what I wanted to tell you—”

“Hold on, hold on, you can’t just move away from the fact that your brother just graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in the country.”

“He got a funding grant–”

“A funding gran–”

“Shhhh!”

You mouth the words, “fucking hell.” to yourself.

“Yep, he’s truly raising the standard for the family.” Gabriel awkwardly chuckles. “It’s weird having him around after being gone for so long but…” Gabriel looks back through the door to the backroom, there’s a sound of things falling and spanish curses which echo from the storage room. “I’m glad he’s back and so is mama, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

You hum along, your expression becoming soft. “Just make sure you teach him how to make good coffee now.” Gabriel chuckles loudly at your comment.

You turn your head and scan the cafe. Your eyes widen. Today, it seems will be a good day as your favorite spot in the corner is available today. Making your way over Gabriel doesn’t take long to come over with your drink.

“Anyways chica, I saw your missed calls and—”

“Oh, did you?” You say aloud sarcastically, playfully swatting him on the arm, “And you didn’t think to be bothered to reply to me? After three years of my loyal friendship this is how you repay me?”

“Okay, one: ow!” He pointed a finger at you. “And two: it wasn’t like that. It was bottomless Wednesday and don’t reprimand me because I’ve already had that from my mother and my brother.”

“Serves you right.” you snort.

“As I was saying, if you’d ever let me speak.” he says, still wincing. “I have good news and bad news regarding your roommate situation.”

“Oh…”

“So, what do you want first, the good news or the bad?” Gabriel offers.

You take a sip of your coffee first as you debate.

“The good news first please.”

“I found you a roommate.”

“Really?!” you exclaimed, your face lighting up with excitement. “Are you fucking serious?!”

“As serious as I can be.” Gabriel wincing again as you hit his arm. “You really have to stop doing that to me.”

“Maybe I can forgive you for ignoring me yesterday.“ you mutter to yourself, a smile now tugging at your lips. “So what’s the bad news?” You’d think that after hearing that good news you can barely think how you would even be affected by the bad news now.

Gabriel points back to the counter, where Miguel stands serving another customer. His face is currently in a state of pure confusion, as his fingers aggressively tap at the till.

“That’s your new roommate.”

Your face dropped as Gabriel’s words sunk in.

“Are you–”

“Serious? Yes, yes I am.” He exhales. “But look, he really needs someone to cheer him up.” You raise a brow at his sentence.

“Listen, but you didn’t hear this from me so this stays between us, okay?” Gabriel held out his pinky finger in front of you.

“Okay.” your promise, not hesitating to join your own pinky finger with his. Gabriel twists a little, as if to seal the promise for definite.

“He wasn’t really meant to come back at all, not even for the Christmas period. It was just random. His roommate back in California moved out and he had no choice but to move back with us because the rent is so skyhigh over there— but anyways, his girlfriend also broke up with him and he never really said why but I just think she can’t be bothered going long distance. Buttttt to be honest who would? Miggy is so boring over text, like I don’t even think he can understand the meaning of emojis–”

“Wait, so he needs a place to stay?” You interrupt, your brain trying to process all this information.

Gabriel nods, “And for someone to cheer him up!” he adds. “Pleaseeeeee, you’d be doing a really big favor for me, it’s so awkward between him and my mom, they’ve barely spoken since he’s moved back in. In fact since he left for uni I’m not even sure that they spoke at all. But please get this tension away from me.”

“What makes you think that I’ll be able to cheer him up?”

Just from looking at him you could already tell that he's a grinch. Totally miserable. A total opposite to what you had with MJ.

“Because you’re you andddd it’s only temporary. That’s another piece of good news actually. By New Year's he’ll probably find a place of his own.”

You wince as you repeat the word. “Temporary.” Another roommate who’s ready to leave before even signing the lease.

“I know that he’s not the ideal roommate but it’s just something for now whilst you look for someone a little bit more permanent.”

You hum at him in agreement. It does take the stress of your back for now….what’s the worst that could happen?

“Por favor, ¿para mí, mi dulce mujer?” Gabriel pulls the one trick move that you can’t resist.

[please, for me, my sweet woman]

The puppy dog eyes.

You let out a sigh as he stares at you, curling his bottom lip which makes you roll your eyes even more.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

/

“Do you want help with that?”

You wince at Miguel carrying four large boxes in one hand. You can’t see his face, his large veiny hands gripping the bottom stack of the boxes.

“No, gracias.” he mumbles, managing to lug them all to his room without a struggle. You knew he was a…big guy, but you still felt uncomfortable at his refusal for your help. Miguel left you no choice but to stand in the corner awkwardly as you watched him make multiple journeys to and fro the apartment.

It had all happened so quickly. Once you had agreed to let him move in, Miguel agreed to sign the contract the next day, albeit it was only for one month. At least that gives you more time to look for a future tenant for next year.

Once he was all moved in, you both awkwardly waited for one another to speak. Thankfully, he began first.

“I guess I’ll go…tidy up my stuff.”

You nod apprehensively. “Right. Uhhh, dinner's at six if you want it.” Miguel nods along too, not adding anything more to the conversation and disappearing into his room.

At six, he didn’t emerge. You knocked on his door as a reminder and a muffled voice replied indicating that he was busy.

You know you shouldn’t take it personally, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of loneliness that surrounded you despite having a new roommate. You let out a deep exhale as you ate at the kitchen table alone.

This was going to be one long Christmas.

taglist: lmk if you would like to be tagged!

@nakimushiohime @keidilla

[menlove]

Hey have you read any good McLennon fix-its

OH BOY HAVE I. i love mclennon fix-its they genuinely heal my soul & they're for sure my favorite i'm ngl. here we gooooo. just pulling from my bookmarks in no particular order...

favorites have a 💖 next to them!

blood on the tracks by mynamesbetty

gen-mature. 66k modern au, 11 part series, eventual fix-it. He was a grown man, a rock star, richer than Croesus, emotionally stable, and more than capable of handling a surprise visit from his ex-husband. Paul married John when he was eighteen and divorced him at twenty-nine. Two years later, John pays Paul a visit.

'til touchdown brings me round again to find by wardo_weditit

explicit. 12k. It was one thing when he was doing this for Elton—yeah, because of a bet, but mostly because Elton is his friend and he wants to support him. It was just a one-off thing that seemed like it could be fun, or cool, or maybe even memorable. But now, if Paul’s going to be there, it takes on a hell of a lot more meaning because that’s the way it goes, that’s what things with Paul always do. Or, Paul comes to see John's surprise appearance at Elton's show, and grand gestures abound.

here you come again by harmonising

mature. 16k. (take this one w a grain of salt i can't remember if it's a full fix it? but well. john's alive, so) 1982. John comes back to England. He and Paul spend a weekend together.

Grow Old With Me by inherownwrite 💖

explicit. 8k. Paul breaks his arm, and John panics.

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) by wardo_wedidit 💖

mature. 39k. “Jesus, took you long enough,” John says, adjusting the duffle over his shoulder. “Thought I might be out here til morning at this rate.” For a second he wonders if he’s drunker than he thought, but no. As far as he can tell, it is still 1980, and he hasn’t seen or so much as spoken to John in ten years. Or, John comes to stay with Paul in Scotland to ride out the press storm of his divorce to Yoko, and Paul learns to stop running away.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards 💖

mature. 27k. (i'm not kidding i think this one is my favorite ever mclennon fics. it's only 27k but it feels like an entire novel. this lives in my head rent free forever. this is my heartstopper or whatever the kids are saying) John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be

Stop all the clocks by javelinbk

mature. 30k. For the following kink meme prompt: ‘1967. After Brian dies, Paul decides not to go ahead with MMT, and takes John up to Scotland for a month instead.’ Also based on the following comment on said prompt: ‘pls someone let them fuck tenderly in 1967’

I Need My Love to Be Here by notgrungybitchin

explicit. 8k. After John gets his first panic attack in Hamburg, he starts to realize that Paul might be the only person who can bring him back to himself.

[f1amboyant]

Oooh, adding to the hole Singapore scenario for the TP/Rookie AU; Oscar miraculously survives the the whole media day without loosing his mind (barely, everyone should be very proud of him, he worked really hard) and decides to make use of the pool of the Marina Bay to refresh himself and admire the views of the circuit from above only to find the bane of his existence, the persone who lives rent free, both in his mind and his fantasies, talking over at the edge of the pool with Charles Leclerc and no no no no, absolutely not; Oscar likes the monegasque but he has absolutely no right to be so close to Carlos like that 😤😤

Anon, your mind!! Oh my god!!

First, Oscar would barely survive his TP, looking like his hottest fantasies. But he would. Good job, Osc.

And then the pool. Oscar goes in there to relax and feel better, especially in the hot weather. He spots Carlos first, at a distance. He's been so good all weekend, maybe he can indulge a little. Maybe he can dare get closer (and probably get an erection and embarrass himself, and five some food to that unbearable crush he is trying so hard to hide). He makes up his mind. He's done well this weekend (on track and in the paddock, keeping his distance from Carlos), he can get closer now. And maybe something can happen again? (in my mind, this takes place after they hookup for the first time and then try to ignore what happened because they can't let this happen).

But then! Then!! As he gets closer to Carlos, he sees that Carlos is not alone and there's Charles fucking Leclerc, standing at the edge of the pool right next to Carlos. They are talking, even giggling, brushing shoulders. Oscar would get absolutely livid with jealousy 🤬

As usual with Carlos, Oscar loses all his cool. He splashes in the water, makes himself heard and Charles leaves them alone with a little wave to Oscar (Oscar doesn't reciprocate). Before he leaves, Carlos puts his hand on Charles' forearm, squeezing lightly. Oscar is absolutely furious.

"What were you two talking about?" he asks when Charles has left the pool and Oscar is closer to Carlos.

"Nothing for you to worry about."

Carlos' lips are all red and now Oscar worries it's because Charles and Carlos kissed.

"Do you want him to be your driver? Maybe you're having enough of me already."

"I'm not leaving, Oscar. Not until I see you win a championship."

Oscar still can't look away from the red lips. Can't get the image of Carlos putting his hand on Charles out of his mind.

"Did you fuck with him?"

"Oscar, what the fuck?" Carlos splutters, taken aback. "This is none of your business."

"That's not a no," Oscar deadpans with as much cool as he can muster (not much). "So I wasn't good enough for you then. As a driver, I'm decent enough to keep. But in your bed, not good enough."

Oscar isn't sure what he's expecting from Carlos. Whether he denies it or not, there's no way to prove he's not lying. So truly Oscar doesn't know what he's expecting. And as always, Carlos surprises him.

"Maybe you need to remind me. Of how good you are."

"Maybe I do."

And that's how Oscar ends up with his hand down his TP's swimsuit, at the edge of the Marina Bay pool, overlooking the city and the circuit. And he is not looking at the view.

🤭🧡😵‍💫🫠

[firenati0n]

ROOPS HAPPY SLEEPOVER TIME do you have any fic recs that you think are highly underrated?

Also, is there a fic that you've read or written where you've just had a VISCERAL reaction to it? Could be good or bad

MAXXXXXXXXXXXX HELLOOOOOOOO

omg. here are some underrated fics i have (re)read recently:

pictures of you (pictures of me) - lives in my mind rent-free so hot and sweet.

if you take a life, do you know what you'll give? by @anincompletelist - bond henry and bond girl alex! beloveds. casino royale inspired. love u long time daniel craig.

Song In My Head by @cactusdragon517 - tree god alex!! very GDT vibes.

The Snow Prince by @orchidscript - literally so soft and beautiful like. ethereal.

all so human with our guards down by @maxbegone - amazing apocalypse au!!!! like so frickin good.

Every Time My Heart Swings Back to You by @xthelastknownsurvivorx - super interesting reincarnation au!

my broken bones (are mending) - archaeologist!henry and journalist!alex my BELOVEDS. amazing series.

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites - super adorable farmer's market holiday fic

Down On My Knees; Wanna Take You There by @sparklepocalypse - ren faire au that lives in my mind rent free

Freaky Friday (I woke up in my enemy's body) by @happiness-of-the-pursuit - a v fun freaky friday body swap au crack fest

Praise and Supplication by @nocoastposts - insanely good first smut fic with soft dom henry my beloved

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by @anincompletelist - i have been campaigning for this fic to be the next big thing and i need it to happen NOW.

stolen glances with a string attached by @wordsofhoneydew - exceptionally adorable office au i was giggling outright

as for fics i have read/written...I'll go with written for now and say that my upcoming city of angels au has elicited some...reactions from the snippets i have shared. i myself have been overwhelmed writing it sometimes bc it feels super personal and transparent. @anincompletelist can confirm this. :) :) :)

xoxo

[SLEEPOVER WEEKEND BABY ASK ME ANYTHING]

[kinaesthetiqueer]

from her pulse in my throat (aka my snowstorm/nordic winter vampire AU that has just... eaten my entire life), which updates on tuesdays!

oops! all weiss! a page of vampire! weiss drawings I did over the weekend, because I am so far ahead in this fic and so many scenes live rent free in my brain, that i couldn't help myself. i need to do an analogous sheet of just nora at this point. [image IDs in alt text]

fun fact! all but one of these is (currently) canon. another fun fact! all but one of these is happening before the end of hpimt. don't ask me how far i've plotted out. it's... so much.

[stellamarielu]

blurred lines

joel miller x female reader

summary: you ask your dad’s best friend to give you a ride home after a night out, which leads to you teasing him in the backseat of his truck as he watches you in the rearview mirror.

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, dbf!joel, no outbreak!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel being chivalrous, but also being a down bad freak, heavy voyeurism, female masturbation, praise kink out the wahzoo, basically joel just watches you finger fuck yourself in the backseat of his truck

author’s note: listen i’m no better than the rest of you, i’ll fold for a dbf!joel miller fic. i’m sorry to all the joel miller/pedro pascal girlies for having to deal with my ass infiltrating your fandom BUT i come bearing gifts of filthy, depraved smut!!!

You were standing out on the curb with your arms crossed over your chest. The faint music from the bar behind you filling your ears and the February wind raising goosebumps on your skin. You were beginning to regret your decision to forgo a jacket. The choice felt right when you were bar hopping earlier, free from lugging around an extra layer of clothing, but now it was coming back to bite you in the ass as you stood out in the cold clad only in a skimpy little dress.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long as you watched a familiar truck pull up in front of you.

Joel Miller’s dark grey pickup came sliding up on the street and you could see the man behind the wheel smiling through the driver’s side window, amused at your poor choice in inadequate clothing. 

Without missing a beat, you pulled on the handle of the door behind him, sliding to the middle of the spacious backseat. 

“What the hell are you doin’ kid?” His voice was a low chuckle as he turned his head back to look at you. 

“You know you can sit in the front? Pretty sure you’re old enough.” He sounded entertained as his eyes met yours.

“It’s more fun this way.” You were giggling out.

“It’s like we’re in an uber.” You were leaning forward with your eyes still on him, your chest practically falling out of your dress. 

Joel was fighting with himself not to let his eyes wander to your exposed skin when he decided to face forward again. 

Jesus you were hardly wearing any clothes. He was starting to question why he had agreed to come pick you up in the first place. Oh yeah, it’s because his dumbass made a comment weeks ago about being able to give you a ride if you were ever too drunk to drive. And judging by the way your words were falling from your lips in a carefree giggle and how your body was folded forward over the middle console of Joel's truck, you were definitely in no shape to drive.

You were in college and still living with your dad in an effort to save up some cash. Sure, it was nice not to worry about rent, but living under your father’s roof came with its downfalls– like him being far too aware of your whereabouts.

That’s when you and Joel shared a whispered conversation about him being there if you ever needed a hand sneaking around your dad’s constant need to be in your business.

He had joked about being your designated driver if you ever needed one, and tonight after a few vodka sodas and your friends not wanting to end their fun, you had taken him up on his offer. It was no surprise that he agreed to come get you, Joel was always so nice to you– a perfect gentleman.

You met him last year after him and your dad worked on the same construction site. Their friendship started with shared beers after work and quickly turned into Joel and his daughter coming to your house every weekend for Sunday night football and dinner. Your two families had gotten pretty close, and you began to look forward to seeing Joel every week.

He was a friendly guy, always cracking jokes and drumming up conversation, not to mention he was incredibly attractive. In fact, you had developed quite the little crush on him. You would act calm, cool, and collected every time you spoke with him, only to go on losing sleep at night thinking about how dreamy he was. It was just a bit of harmless fun, a teeny tiny unrequited crush on your dad's best friend. That was until you caught him watching you a few months ago, like really watching you.

If it had been anyone else you might’ve found it creepy, but it was Joel. Joel who was undeniably single, and funny, and handsome, and older. Joel who was raking his eyes down your body inch by inch when you had skipped downstairs in the world’s tiniest pajama shorts and an equally teasing crop top. You weren’t expecting to see him standing in your kitchen that early on a Tuesday morning yet there he was, gawking at your ass cheeks that couldn’t be covered by the barely-there material of your shorts. He saw you watching him as he stared at you. He didn’t even try to hide it. Both of you frozen in your kitchen and the tension palpable before your dad came into the room muttering something about his car not starting and Joel giving him a ride. 

After that day your little crush on Joel Miller turned into a full-blown obsession.

You wanted to have his eyes on you like that again. You dreamed about him staring at you. The scenarios that you conjured up about him late at night could land you in the loony bin, but you didn’t care. This new desperation to fulfill the fantasies plaguing your brain were all you could think about, and you were determined to do something about it. 

“I don’t understand how you’re wearin’ that when it’s so cold outside.” Joel’s eyes were staring straight ahead as he began to drive you home, pulling his car back onto the road and moving with the traffic on the busy street.

“Well you’ve obviously never been a girl on 6th street on a Saturday night.” You were still leaning forward in your seat making sure to push your cleavage together with your arms now that you knew he was looking at your outfit.

“Obviously.” He was mocking you with his response, eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror. 

“What’s Sarah up to tonight?”

Your question was harmless as you leaned back in your seat peering out the window and admiring the bright lights of the city around you. 

“She’s staying over at a friend’s house.” Joel’s eyes were back on the road, focused on the route back to your house.

“Probably for the best, don’t want her knowing I’m picking up your drunk ass at 2am.” 

You were shooting him a glare that he couldn’t see while he chuckled under his breath. 

“Don’t need you lookin’ like a bad influence.” He was peeking at you through the mirror again, a smirk on his lips. 

“Oh please, I’m an angel.”

You were responding in a sugary sweet voice, your eyes holding as much innocence as you could muster, only drawing more attention to the way your tits were pushed up against your arms. 

It was such a sinful image, one that Joel let his eyes linger on for a little too long as he stared at you through the mirror. 

You were addicted to the way he was looking at you.

Quite frankly, you were addicted to everything about him.

You could almost feel the liquid courage still coursing through your veins as you relaxed against the leather seat, arching your back slightly and looking up at him through your lashes.

“You could just take me back to your place.” Your voice was hushed as you watched Joel’s expression fill with confusion, his eyes finding the road again. 

“And why on earth would I do that?” He may have been confused but his voice remained playful as he questioned you.  

“Because maybe I want you to finally do something about that wandering eye of yours.” 

There it was– the words you had been holding back for months. I see the way you look at me, I’m into it, and I want you to fuck me. 

“Don’t know what your talkin’ about angel.”

His voice was mocking as he used the title you had given yourself moments ago. He was tip toeing closer to the blurred line of whatever unspoken tension had been building between the two of you.

Oh, game on. If he wanted to tease you, two could play at that game. 

“C’mon Mr. Miller I know you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

The use of his surname had Joel’s eyes snapping up to the mirror to meet your gaze. As soon as his eyes were on yours, he regretted it. You looked downright drunk, but not from whatever alcohol was left in your system– no, you were drunk off desire. For him. 

“I know you like to watch...” The words were leaving your lips in a disgustingly sweet tone and your hand was ghosting over your chest. 

“Don’t.” His voice was stern as he spoke, but his eyes were still on yours in the mirror all big and needy, telling an entirely different story. 

“Don’t what?” 

Your hands were teasing the lowcut neckline of your dress as you spoke. 

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the road? You seem a little distracted.” The flirtatious words falling from your lips worked in tandem with your hands that were now cupping your breasts and trailing down your torso.

You searched for his eyes in the rearview mirror again, only now they were focused ahead instead of on you. 

��You’re drunk, I’m not doing this with you right now.”

Oh so he wanted to parade around on his high horse? Not happening.

“I’m not drunk. I had a few drinks hours ago. I’m of sound mind Mr. Miller.”

There it was again, Mr. Miller. You had never called him that before, not once. But now you were sitting in the backseat of his truck with your hands all over your body saying it over and over again and he thought he was going to combust. 

“And what if I hadn’t been drinking tonight? Then would you watch me do this.” 

What little alcohol that was left metabolizing in your body must’ve given you enough confidence to spread your legs, the movement hiking your dress all the way up your thighs. You hand was sliding down your body only to stop when it found the thin material of your lace panties.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ.” Joel was groaning out when his eyes flickered to the mirror to watch you all spread out in his backseat like that. 

“Knew you liked to watch.” You were whispering as your fingertips danced at the hem of your underwear. 

“What do you want me to do?” You were teasing as you let your fingers wander closer to your core, legs still wide open.

“Want me to stop Mr. Miller?”

You could see the way his hands were gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was squeezing. 

He was holding on as tight as humanly possible while he debated his next move. Did he get serious and put a stop to this, or did he let himself have a little bit of fun and surrender to the pretty young thing all needy in his backseat. 

“Want you to keep touchin’ yourself angel.” His voice was gruff, muddled with lust and bad decisions as he finally gave in to temptation.

You hummed out a quiet moan of victory as your hand met the wetness of your panties, your fingertips tracing up and down your clothed center. 

Joel’s eyes were a constant boomerang going back and forth between the road ahead of him and the reflection of you playing out in the mirror above him.

He knew it was wrong to let you do this right now. He was the older more mature one in the situation, he should be telling you to stop. Only he couldn’t. He had been fighting himself on this for far too long. The once thick rope that was holding him back from giving into his desire had been thinning since that morning months ago when you had your ass on display for him before 8:30 in the morning. The restraint had become a single, tiny strand keeping him from pouncing on you and now that you were in his backseat with your hands between your legs, he had given up entirely, cutting the string with his own pair of shiny, perverted scissors. 

“C’mon baby, keep goin’.” He was encouraging your filthy movements when your eyes met each other in the rearview mirror.

His brows were furrowed and the look in his eyes was completely primal. That glare alone made you pull your panties to the side, giving him a glimpse of your slit, all swollen and glistening– excited by the spontaneity of being half naked in the back of his truck.

“Fuck.” The groan that fell from his lips had you wanting to shove two fingers as deep into you as they could possibly go, but instead you decided to spread your arousal over your opening, taking your time and teasing the man sitting in front of you. 

“I always think about you Joel.” Your voice was timid now as you preened underneath your own fingers.

“Think about you when I’m touching myself.” The words were a breathless hum as your fingertips found your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it and allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the sensation.

“That right baby?” You could tell Joel was holding onto what little composure he had left as he continued to prompt your self indulgence. 

“Show me” 

Each time his eyes found the mirror again you could feel the heat spreading throughout your body. 

“Show me what you like. Show me what feels good.” 

Fuck. You had a feeling Joel would be good with his mouth, but you didn’t anticipate him being this good with his words. The filthy things he was saying were driving you further into a place of utter insanity. He had you on the edge of going feral as you nearly forgot you were in the backseat of his car, your fingers working faster on the bundle of nerves at your center.

The moans bubbling out of your throat were evidence of your dazed headspace and you weren’t sure what felt better; the way your fingers were stroking your clit or knowing that Joel was watching you, his dick probably rock solid in his jeans.

The idea of him being turned on was enough to have the pressure coiling inside your core, but you needed more. You ached to feel some sort of stretch, some semblance of fullness. You needed something inside of you, and if it couldn’t be Joel, you would do it yourself. Without a second thought you slipped two fingers into your entrance, slowly dragging them in and out.

A low grunt left Joel’s lips, and you could see one of his hands leave the steering wheel and fall into his lap as he adjusted himself through the denim holding back his growing erection.  

“That feel good sweetheart? Nice and slow like that?” His voice was strained, and his eyes were darting between the windshield and your reflection. 

“So good. Wish it was you instead.”

Oh that was it. He had officially lost it upon hearing those words. 

Shit, he wished he had taken you up on your offer to go back to his place. He also wished you hadn’t been drinking tonight. He reminded himself that although you claimed sobriety, he wouldn’t be able to live with it if he did something he couldn’t take back and you regretted it tomorrow.

So, for now, as deprived and questionably moral as it was, he would just let you finger yourself while he sat back and watched. You were an adult that could make your own decisions to possibly regret in the morning; and who was it hurting if he gave you a few words of encouragement? 

“I know baby, but just keep playin’ with yourself.” 

His voice was reinforcing your already overwhelming pleasure as you arched your fingers, hitting just the right spot. That familiar curl mixed with the featherlight touch still circling your clit had you bracing yourself for the orgasm that you knew would be hitting any minute.  

“Doin’ so good.” His voice was a whisper from the front seat and you could’ve sworn he was on the verge of whimpering. 

“Gonna make yourself cum all over my backseat- shit.” He was mumbling out his words and you could practically hear the sexual frustration building within them. 

Both of you were losing control and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about your surroundings as Joel’s truck was coming to an abrupt stop. 

You were home.

He was careful to park on the curb a little further from his usual spot as he quickly took the keys out of the ignition and shut off his headlights. You had never been so thankful for the cover of nightfall and the invention of tinted windows. 

“C’mon baby show me how you cum, wanna see it.”

Joel was now leaning his body over the console to face you. Finally getting to see you all spread open before his very eyes instead of a reflection. The bulge in his pants grew tenfold at the sight; Your dress was bunched at your waist, your cheeks hot and pink, your eyes were fighting to stay open, and your delicate little hands were working overtime between your legs. Watching you like that had Joel ready to finish in his pants like a teenage boy.

“Come back here.” You were all but begging through moans as you kept working to bring yourself to the edge of release.

You wanted him to join you, to use his fingers instead of yours, or his dick– you’d take whatever you could get right now, and you wanted it all. 

“No sweetheart, not tonight.” He was refusing your invitation, and your feelings might’ve been hurt if it weren’t for the way he reached out and placed his hand right above your knee.

He was spreading your legs further apart with his grasp on your leg and rubbing his thumb back and forth on your lower thigh. His gentle touch had you seeing stars.

“Let go baby.” His eyes were burning into you as he watched your fingers carefully curling at the knuckle with each thrust. Your moans were incoherent as the tension pulling inside your body threatened to snap. 

“I need it, show me.” 

Joel’s words were carrying you to the finish line as your chest heaved. 

“Give it to me sweetheart.” With his hand caressing the soft flesh of your thigh and his eyes watching your every move, you came apart for him. Profanities and moans spilled from your mouth as your release washed over you. 

You kept your eyes screwed shut for a few seconds as you forced yourself to take a handful of long deep breaths working your way down from your high. 

As soon as your eyes opened, you were met with Joel’s stare. His pupils were dilated and you could see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as you raised your fingers to your lips.

If you were doing this, you were ending it with a bang. 

You opened your mouth just enough to slip your index and pointer finger inside, dramatically sucking them clean before pulling them back out.

“Fuck kid.” He groaned in defeat as his eyes remained glued on your perfectly pouted lips. 

“You better get inside.” He was breaking his trance on your mouth and turning back around to start his car back up like nothing ever happened.

“Are you serious?”

You were shocked at his ability to hold it together, knowing that his dick must be throbbing in his jeans at this point. You were more than happy to solve that problem if he’d just let you, but it seemed as though he was ready to kick you out of his tuck without so much as another glance in your direction.

“I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink tonight, can’t trust your decision-making skills.” 

“Oh, but you could watch me do that and it didn’t interfere with your moral compass?” 

“Go.” He was motioning you out of the car with a tilt of his head and you could read the painfully amused expression on his face through the rearview mirror– the very mirror that had just bared witness to the corrupt scene of you and Joel losing all self-control.

“Fine.” You were chuckling as you pulled your dress back down your thighs and scooting toward the exit, pulling the handle and plopping out onto the concrete street.

“Have a good night… blue balls.” You were standing outside the truck and forcefully shutting the door to his backseat. The last two words leaving your lips in a giggle as you waved goodbye to Joel. 

Joel just watched as you skipped up to your front door. He was in big trouble, huge fucking trouble. There was no way he’d be able to look at you again, let alone be in the same room as you.

After tonight, he wouldn't be able to trust himself around you. The next time your eyes met his he'd have no choice but to run his hands all over your perfect little body. 

And tomorrow was Sunday night football.

He was screwed.

my masterlist

[sepetajmikolikomehoces]

WIP Weekend

Thank you for the tag @mint-ty! I have... a fair bunch of WIPs, so I'll try to limit myself to four:

šepetaj mi koliko me hočeš: progressing, slowly. May nevet let me finish at all. As in, I foresee a chapter split just so it doesn't take me by surprise.

(meidän välillä) on katkematon lanka: moving at glacial pace, but still moving. Requires a certain headspace that I have had a hard time finding. Will keep trying.

Kris oneshot: I know, unexpected from me. I have a good chunk written, but it then came to a screeching halt when I was faced with a choice and rather than, you know, pick one to write and see if it fits, I chose to just... not. Until I could decide. Which I still can't. The überbrief synopsis for this one reads "touchstarved Kris. That's it."

Jance fantasy AU: Dragon!Nace and Witch!Jan. Dragged myself into this one by making moodboards and now it lives rent free in my head where I have a good bit of introductory first chapter stuff done and a plot sketch that is very much alive and fighting me at every turn.

Tagging @punanenmarli @mitochondriencocktail @frikatilhi @oneshotdepresso @electron-road-suspect @saffei and @cinder-rose

[nyoomfruits]

loved where i am going is right where i am (left a very lengthy comment and that didn’t even convey all that it meant to me) so i simply want to say THANK YOU THANK YOU for you’re Landoscar AU’s i just finished it and I already miss Starlington Road!!

r u the person who said reading it was like driving through starlington road for a weekend trip because i need you to know that comment has been living rent free in my brain since i read it last night im CRYING thats so cute. anyway i will leave a lenghty reply once i've managed to drag myself out of the little puddle of tears i've formed on the floor.

[fandomsnstuff]

I was thinking about my youtube au and blupjeans at work today so :3c @taznovembercelebration

Day 13: hide/tradition

"“The Birdhouse” is a colloquial name for a group of seven YouTube personalities who, after years of friendship, decided to move into a large house together. While all their channels are independent of each other, they often cameo or guest in videos and livestreams."

- via The Birdhouse wiki

Read it on AO3

“Every year we've had to add a new rule, so I'm going to go over them one more time,” Lucretia says to the six of them. They're standing in the kitchen of the house they rented for the weekend, and everybody has their own small cameras on hand. “The rules for The Birdhouse's fifth annual hide and seek game. One, no bodily harm to yourself by consequence of your hiding space.” She looks pointedly at Magnus, who somehow managed to squeeze himself into a cupboard year one and ended up needing to see a chiropractor for six months. “Two, no giving yourself away by jumping out of your hiding spot to startle the seeker,” she looks at Magnus again, who jumpscared Merle so bad in year two, he broke a lamp. “Three, during the hiding phase, the seeker must be blindfolded, wearing noise canceling headphones, and be sitting facing a corner of the group's choosing. No peeking.”

“It was a good strategy!” Taako defends.

“Four,” Lucretia continues, “you must hide on the property and stay on the property until you're found or the game ends.” She looks to Davenport this time, who just got in the van and drove away until they texted him telling him he won last year. “And, as always, the winner of this year's game will gain free food and drink for the rest of the weekend, bragging rights for one full year, and the obligation to be next year's seeker. Understood?” Everyone makes some sort of agreeing sound, so she snaps her notebook shut. “Great. Dav, you know where to go.”

He salutes, and takes his blindfold and headphones to a corner of the living room. Once he's situated, Lucretia says, “alright everyone, five minutes on the clock.” She starts a timer on someone's phone that'll go off in Davenport's headphones when it's up. “Go!”

Everyone scatters, heading for spots they scouted out in the two days since they've arrived. Barry beelines for Magnus's room. The shelving at the back of his walk-in closet isn't flush against the wall. For some god forsaken reason, there's at least three feet of space behind it. When he found it scoping out the rooms upon arrival, it was initially storing a spare mattress and some sheets. He pulled the mattress out and leaned it up against the back wall of the closet. It blocked the entrance to the hidey hole, and just standing in the door of the closet, nothing looks out of the ordinary, it's just as if a landlord needed to store a mattress.

And he knows Davenport didn't get up to the second floor until after Barry moved it.

He also fucked up the nicely folded sheets. That way, he can cover himself with them, and even if Davenport found the spot ahead of time, the lump of sheets was already there.

He's just maneuvering his way into the space when the closet door opens.

He freezes, but it's just Magnus, who whisper-shouts, “I was gonna hide there!”

“I got here first,” Barry whisper-shouts back.

“It's my room!”

“Exactly! I'm not going to hide in my own room, that's too obvious. I would've had too much time to plan a spot, since I sleep there.”

“Oh shit, that's smart.” He looks over his shoulder, then back at Barry. “See ya!”

He shakes his head and squeezes past the mattress. He goes straight to the back of the little space, in the corner of the closet. He picks up the pile of sheets, sits himself down with his knees drawn to his chest, and covers himself with the sheets, attempting to make himself look as pile-like as possible.

“Okay,” he whispers to the camera, “I think we're in a pretty good spot, and we've still got,” he checks his watch, “three minutes until Dav's on the move.” He shifts a little. “I might be a little stiff after, but I'm confident. This might be our year.”

“Barry?” Lup's voice comes from outside the sheets. He reveals his head, and she's standing at the open end of the space. She glances over her shoulder, then back. “You got room in there for one more? My top spots got fucking stolen, and time's ticking down.”

“Uh, maybe? You can absolutely try.” He could never say no to her. This was his only planned spot and he's fully ready to start from scratch for her if he has to, he'll just edit out the part about it being his year.

She comes in further and holds out her camera. “Hold this.” He takes it, and she starts pulling away the sheets until he's been excavated from the pile. “Extend your legs a bit.” He complies, and she sits down between them and covers the two of them with the sheets. She leans back against his chest and takes her camera, holding it out slightly to get both of them in the shot. “There, perfectly hidden.” She cranes her neck to look at him. “I'm proud of you, Bear. You actually found a good spot this year.”

His free arm wraps around her waist, the other still propped up with the camera. “My spots aren't that bad.”

“And yet you've never been seeker.”

“I was only found first in year one, and that's only because I didn't have any time to look around before the game started.”

“Still,” she taps his nose, “they haven't been winners.” He just laughs and shakes his head. “But hey, you found one of my top spots, so maybe we'll both win this year. There's no rule about two people in one spot yet. Maybe there'll be Blupjeans double seekers next year.”

He laughs softly. “Don't use the fucking ship name in the video, you'll just encourage them.”

She lowers the camera and slides her free hand over his arm to link their fingers together. “But they're not wrong.”

“No,” she kisses his jaw softly, and he turns his head down, brushing their noses together as he leans in, “but they don't know that yet.”

His eyes have shut, but he feels her smile. “Yet,” she murmurs just before he kisses her.

They've only officially been an item for about six months, but they've come to find out what the internet's seemed to know for years: they've been in love and de facto dating more or less since they met.

He sets his camera on the floor and cups her jaw, tilting her head and deepening the kiss. She sighs, and he draws her closer with the arm around her waist. He could kiss her forever. He could get carried away and do things he really shouldn't do to her with two rolling cameras around, even if he's the one who edits the footage.

They're drawn from it when they hear Davenport's voice echoing faintly through the silent house, “ready or not, here I come!”

“Focus up, Bluejeans,” Lup whispers, “we've got a game to win.”

“You're right,” he says, picking up his camera, “I think it's too soon for a sex tape anyway.”

He has to clamp his hand over Lup's mouth so her laugh doesn't give them away.

[cyrenescreams]

So life got in the way and I’ve fallen way behind on your organized crime AU-hoping to binge read from the beginning this weekend- but I just want you to know thats its been something like a year, or whenever Schlatt’s funeral happened, and two things have lived rent free in my heat the entire time.

Everyone showing up and showing out for Ponk, that healed something in me.

Technoblade wears a pig mask because he’s a cop killer and i am SO NORMAL ABOUT IT

Hi anon! I think you may have sent this to the wrong blog? I don’t have an organized crime au however the one you are reading sounds very cool and I’m now a bit interested to see if I can find it! I’m sure the blog you meant to send this too would appreciate all the super kind words though!!