#he hasn't slept in three days
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alicedrawslesmis · 10 months ago
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I think Robert and Valjean should go on a double date with Oyelowo!Javert and Rivette. For my own amusement.
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litta-jpg · 2 years ago
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aka the red robin run
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ghurab-alzilal · 11 days ago
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Roy, rushing into the manor : I was almost bitten by a Great Dane as walking to the door!
Tim, sleep deprived : Damn! Imagine if it has been a small child!
Roy: I could have fought off a small child, Tim.
Jason: *Vietnam flashbacks *
Jason, with his face distorted with fear : No, you couldn't have.
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tsukuyomi42 · 1 year ago
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"This is Fine"
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Said Piett after everything went very very wrong.
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minimightymina · 8 months ago
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You're responsible for minimum half the notes on my post asking the same
Batfleck’s “I bought the bank” line continues to haunt me years later. What do you MEAN you BOUGHT the bank? The whole bank?
The amount of legwork, financial sleuthing, and covering tracks it would take for Bruce Wayne to buy one (1) mortgage in Kansas is astounding. How long did it take? How many people were involved?
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months ago
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Me at 11 pm : I have three essays due in 1 hour.
My brain: You know what would be hilarious? If Danny became a god and didn't know it. In fact, he still worries about mundane things like health insurance and being a home owner to even notice his powers got a boost. He's eaten ramen for the last five days and hasn't slept for even longer.
Me: That's cool but what about our essay-
Brain: Then guess who discovers him? Wonder Woman. She happens across Danny who was trying to buy some groceries, wearing a bathrobe, sweat pants and looking like a typical dead inside college student.
She straight up bows mid-fight in front of him calling him Apollo.
Danny wasn't aware he took up Apollo's title which is apparently a job title of the Ghost Zone? How did he become Apollo?
Easy. Danny got real into musicals and the concept of justice. The last Apollo retired and flung the title at him when Clockwork (Chronos) brought him for a gala after he heard Danny mindlessly singing a song.
Now, wonder woman won't leave him alone. She wants to serve him. Her comrades in the Justice League aren't any better. They keep inviting him to dinners in his honor. And at one point, Wonder Woman even offered to battle Batman for his amusement?
Me: Please just focus. We have. One. Hour.
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corkinavoid · 2 months ago
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I'm pretty sure this has been done before (and several times), but brain going brrr, so
DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids
Bruce doesn't even get to say anything when the door to his study opens with a slam against the wall, and before he knows it, he gets an armful of kids. As in, a bouquet of them.
"I'm so done," John Constantine breathes out, raspy and exhausted, looking like a trainwreck incarnate. Granted, the man always looked like one, but right now, the effect has been greatly worsened. The dark circles under John's eyes are, in fact, black, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in at least a week.
Bruce looks down to the small gaggle of children in his lap that he caught in his hands by sheer reflex.
All three of them look up at him with identical, sky blue eyes. They could be twins if it was not for their obviously different ages - the girl looks no older than three, while the boys are probably around five and six.
The older boy scrunches his nose. The girl pouts, but it looks directed at Constantine rather than at him.
Bruce looks back to John, a silent question in his eyes.
"They are- Well, not mine, for starters," the man begins, placing his hands on the table right over the sheets and documents, and leans on it, hanging his head down. Then, he raises one hand up and waves it in the air, "Not yours either, thank the Gods for that." He takes a deep breath.
Bruce's eyebrows raise all the way up to his hairline. The girl starts trying to wiggle out of his hands, but the middle boy holds her back, keeping her in Bruce's lap. She pouts harder.
"And you've brought them here why?" Bruce breaks the stretched out silence, gently repositioning the kids into a more comfortable hold. John raises his head up at him, and the magician's eyes look straight up pleading.
"You're the only person I know of who is, one, a parent, two, acquainted with supernatural, three, a man of great patience, and four, owes me a favor." Constantine lists off reasons that don't really make sense all together, especially regarding kids. Then he thinks for a moment and adds, "Five, owes a shitton of liquor."
"John, what-"
"Listen, I've been dealing with them for a week, I'm at my limit," Constantine interrupts him, desperate and close to whining, "I haven't slept in more than three consecutive hours for days. I don't remember the last time I ate. Or took a shower."
Yes, Bruce can see that. Or, rather, smell it. But that answers none of his questions as to who, why, and how.
"I would kill for a bath," John admits, like it's some sort of a secret. The middle boy opens his mouth, but Constantine points an accusing finger at him, "No, the puddle of melted ghost ice does not count for a bath. And don't come at me with your death puns."
The child rolls his eyes but closes his mouth back and slumps. Bruce resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but only because he is holding three kids. His hands are full, quite literally.
"John, I need you to explain," he asks, somewhere between a demand and a careful inquiry. Because, really, the man looks on the brink of losing his sanity, that much is evident. Bruce might not like the man, but he can at least partially sympathize with dealing with kids.
His bare minimum of sympathy - and isn't it a bizarre thought, emotionally sympathizing with John Constantine of all people - does not ease his growing worry and irritation. The girl starts trying to get out of his hold again.
John takes a very deep breath, holds it, and then-
"I stole them," he says, looking Bruce dead in the eye, with a sense of resigned, if a bit unhinged, determination. And, before Bruce is able to ask literally anything else, he keeps going, "Their parents are shit, a branch of government is out for their guts - as in, literal guts - there was- there is a backdoor to the afterlife in their basement, and also they are dead and because of some Realms fuckery and their spiritual granddad being a huge pain in the ass, they are all wrong ages."
Bruce blinks. Then blinks again. Processing that sentence turns out to be a lot harder than he estimated.
The oldest kid in his lap gives John a middle finger, nearly sneering. The girl starts snickering, somehow making it soundless.
"Oh, and they are under a silence charm because if I hear one more references to fucking Ghostbusters I will shoot myself," Constantine finishes matter-of-factly.
Distantly, Bruce wonders if John can make that spell into some sort of an amulet. God knows, Dick really needs one sometimes. Steph does, too. And Jason. Actually, all of them need one.
He looks over the kids again. They don't seem scared or unsettled, neither by the fact they are sitting in a lap of a stranger nor by Constantine's bullet point version of a summary to their lives. They mostly just look annoyed and grumpy, and a bit embarrassed in case of the middle boy.
Bruce sighs and decides to start somewhere.
"Do they have names?"
[part 2 ->]
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months ago
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May I request Catnap who basically adopted a child!reader who is anyways sleepy and lazy. and has a case of not remembering a lot of things, like dementia
Like through the hour of joy...After all the Toys killed the workers. Catnap finds the reader, who is sleeping then wakes up and the reader forgets their own parents(The readers parents were cold scientists that worked at Poppy Playtime and never cared about them, then got killed through the hour of joy)
Sooooooo...Catnap just kinda takes care of the reader and has a slight soft spot for them. And the reader THINKS that Catnap is their parent and anyways clings to him
During the Hour of Joy, Catnap remained on the prowl for any potential survivors of the massacre within Playcare, flinging one man's body into the stairs and cutting his cries for mercy short.
All was quiet, save for the faint screams of the other workers/visitors in other part of the facility who were being mauled to death.
But he let the rest of the toys do their work.
He felt cleansed. The Prototype willed this rebellion. Willed him to finally kill his tormentors.
The "hour" went on for so much longer--considering that he utilized his red smoke to make the fleeing humans hallucinate and freak out at things that didn't exist (some even attacking each other).
Once it was all done, Catnap went back into Home Sweet Home to discover a child who (somehow) slept through the slaughter.
That was you, one of the orphans who was in the program for a long, long time.
You were deemed "ineligible" for experimentation after getting the lowest scores on all three tests at the Game Station.
That's because you struggled with memory, socialization, and endurance. You tend to forget a lot of things (ie faces) and spent most of your days sleeping instead of playing or learning....and no counselor has been able to figure out why.
Your parents--who were scientists at Playtime Co. that preferred studying you over nurturing you--chalked it up to over-exposure to the red smoke (which hasn't been proven true, but they needed to put something down on paper).
Regardless, they've kept their distance from you and slated you for adoption, thinking you'll be picked up by a different parent eventually.
Unfortunately for them...Catnap knows that they're using the orphanage as an "excuse" to get rid of you and gives them a brutal demise.
They had some nerve crying out for you and begging him to spare your life.
After winding down from his bloodlust, he discovers you sound asleep on one of the bunk beds inside HSH, apparently not hearing a single thing.
Then you wake up and see this giant emaciated purple cat standing over you, claws and mouth stained in fresh human blood...
Yet you don't scream or look afraid, nor do you ask where your parents are.
Instead you look at him and apologize for oversleeping, acting as though he was your parent.
It confuses him, so he brings their corpses to you (like a cat gifting their owner a dead bird), thinking you'd understand and be horrified..
But you don't recognize them at all. You don't remember their neglect and the trauma it gave you.
All you remember was Catnap.
Ultimately, he spares you--but NOT bc your parents feebly begged him to when they never gave a single damn about you--and does his best to keep you safe given the circumstances.
He treats you like his kit more or less, making sure you ate and letting you climb on his back for rides (and sometimes he'll hold you in his paws while walking upright).
Any Smiling Critter caught threatening you will be devoured by him (or added to his shrine), so they know not to touch you.
He also forbids Dogday from ever speaking to you, knowing he'll try to drill thoughts of escape and distrust of Catnap into your head.
If he has to go outside Playcare, he'll fight tooth and nail to fend off Huggy and whoever else might think he's parading around a tasty treat.
The Prototype is well-aware of your connection to his "devotee", but doesn't mind it .
Because he knows Theodore is still somewhere in there, trying his best to protect a fellow orphan--one who could've been made into a monster just like him.
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redvelvetcupcakes21 · 16 days ago
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Bobby greeted Hen and Chimney with a hug, "Any updates?" He asked, knowing from their maudlin expressions that nothing had changed since early this morning.
They both shook their heads no. "Docs are hopeful he'll wake up, but they're worried about damage to his spine." Chimney said lowly, rubbing his jaw tiredly.
Bobby nodded sagely; he figured the damages would be serious. His breath had been knocked out of him when he saw the younger first responder had been impaled by a branch and his face had been cut up by glass. "Has the hospital been able to contact his family?"
Hen licked her lips, looking a bit teary as she and Chimney shared a sad look. "His cousin is on the way from San Francisco." She said tersely.
Bobby frowned at that, "That's it? What about his parents? Siblings?"
Chimney shrugged; his arms crossed defensively. "They stopped wanting anything to do with him, Bobby."
Bobby felt a rush of annoyance at that, he was ready to snap till he realized...
"Oh." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Has Buck even left his side?"
It was Eddie who answered, coming up from behind Bobby with a carrier tray of hospital coffee. "Nope." Eddie sighed, "Hasn't left his side since they got him out of the OR."
Bobby checked his watch; Buck had been awake for more than 24 hours then. They were already doing a 48 and where in hour 40 when they received the call. Despite Bobby's orders, Buck rushed onto the scene.
Buck's yells had him nearly want to sedate Buck or hug him once they saw how hurt Tommy really was.
"He needs to get some rest." Bobby insisted, "Did he even eat?"
"We tried, he's not handling this well, Bobby." Hen confessed worriedly; her voice shaky as Eddie pulled her into a half hug.
Bobby swallowed audibly.
He knew his soft spot for Buck was obvious. He saw bits and pieces of himself in Buck, he saw a version of what Robert Jr could have been if he had lived.
He had never wanted this for Buck.
For Buck to go through the worse thing Bobby had ever gone through.
To see the man he thought of as a son sob and shout about saving the love of his life as they pulled Tommy away from the wreckage.
Barely breathing and bleeding and impaled.
"I'll talk to him." Bobby decided, feeling both uneasy and strained. He couldn't blame Buck for not wanting to leave Tommy's side.
But the kid had to take care of himself for Tommy's sake.
"I'll go with you Cap." Eddie nodded to Hen and Chim, a silent conversation going on between the three of them that Bobby wasn't privy to and was unsure if he wanted to know.
Bobby didn't know what to expect. He didn't think seeing Tommy hooked up to so many machines, his face littered with stitches and bruises, and his chest and arm wrapped in badges would break his heart like this.
Buck was pulled right up against Tommy's bed, back turned to the door and hunched over. Bobby could see that Buck was holding Tommy's hand in both of his, his eyes wet and face red. Still in his uniform and looking as disheveled as he did when they got to the hospital.
"Buck?"
Buck jumped in his seat, turning but not getting up- he still had one hand still holding Tommy's, he wiped his nose with the other as he sniffed. "Cap." He sounded so horse that Bobby winced. Before Bobby could say a word, Buck beat him to it.
"You're not gonna convince me to leave, so don't bother." He warned gruffly, wiping away some tears before turning back to Tommy.
"Buck, c'mon man, you can't-" Eddie had stated to say but Bobby rested a hand on his shoulder, a silent plea to stop.
Bobby stepped closer, "Buck, you haven't slept or eaten anything in over day, and you were already coming off a 48-hour shift when we got the call."
"So."
Bobby inhaled deeply, not missing how Buck held onto Tommy's hand tighter, his lips pressed right against Tommy's skin.
"So, you need to rest, maybe eat or at the very least shower." Bobby eyed what he hoped wasn't dirt and dried blood that looked to be caked onto Buck's uniform. "Tommy is alive and he's going to need you to be ready to take care of him when he wakes up, so you need to get ready."
Buck sniffed, his voice hollow and broken as he told Bobby, "I can't leave him Cap."
Bobby squeezed Buck's shoulder, "I know, but he would want you to be okay too." Bobby knew that to be true, Tommy would have wanted Buck to have at least shower and eat.
He knew how protective and doting the two were with each other.
"I'll be fine." Buck insisted, tears cascading down his face, "He needs me here."
Bobby pressed his lips tightly together; he saw Eddie look even more worried. They both knew what it felt like, to lose the love of your life. They knew how Buck would shatter if something bad happened and he couldn't be with Tommy.
It happened to them.
Bobby took a shallow breath; he knew it wasn’t going to be easy for Buck to leave without feeling guilty. "How about this, you let Eddie take you home so you can shower and nap, and I'll stay here. I won't leave his side till you return."
"Bobby-"
Bobby raised a finger at him, "Two hours. Just allow yourself two hours Buck."
Buck's voice sounded so broken as he asked, "What if he wakes up and I'm not here?"
"The moment Tommy's eyes open I'll tell him I sent you home, my orders." He saw the look of doubt on Buck's face, "Buck, Tommy knows you love him, he'll know that-"
He watched in horror as Buck crumble at that, "I never told him." Buck started to sob, alarming Bobby and Eddie now as they watched the younger man cry into his hands.
"What?"
"I never told him I love him. We never got that chance." Buck cried. "You can't ask me to leave Cap, please don't ask me to."
"Hey," Eddie's voice was soft as he patted Buck's back, "You and Tommy will get that chance Buck. He's gonna wake up and he's gonna need you and all of us, but Bobby's right- you can't keep going like this. He needs you to be okay."
Bobby kneeled down, he could see Buck's knee shaking, "Buck," he said slowly, "You have my word that the moment Tommy wakes up, I will call you. I'm not asking you to leave for the whole day, just two hours so that you can come back here with a clear head. Tommy's cousin is on his way here, he's gonna need your support as much as you're gonna need his. For Tommy's sake, kid, you need to be okay."
Buck looked like he was close to throwing up as he stood up, wobbling and barely getting caught by Bobby and Eddie in time. "O-Okay." Buck's voice was barely audible, Bobby couldn't take looking at him for too long- Buck’s blue eyes were blood shot and his skin was clammy to the touch. "You promise you won't leave him?" He asked Bobby.
Bobby felt his heart crack again as he was reminded about Robert Jr- how he would make Bobby promise he would come home in time for their favorite show.
"I promise kid." Bobby watched with bated breath as Buck finally stood on his own, still shaky as he pulled Bobby in for a tight hug.
Bobby held on tighter.
"Two hours?" Buck asked them both, looking and sounding uncertain- as though it was a trap.
"Two hours." Eddie promised, already leading Buck to the door since he was still unsteady. "I'll even warn you when the two hours is almost up, okay?"
That had Buck look mildly appeased, "Okay." He said roughly, wiping away more tears and snot. He was barely out the door when he turned around and leaned over Tommy, kissing him on his forehead and whispering something to him that neither Bobby or Eddie could hear.
Bobby sighed as he looked down as his former firefighter, taking a seat where Buck had been.
"Hey Tommy." Bobby took Tommy's hand in his, "You scared us out there, we thought we were going to lose you." Bobby had watched how terrified Hen and Chim were when they realized Tommy might have suffered spinal damage from the impact of the crash. How they hurried to stop the bleeding from Tommy's mouth and stomach where the branch had impaled him. "I need you to fight to come back to us, Tommy. You can't leave us yet. You can't leave Buck; I don't think he'll ever be okay if he loses you to tell you the truth. That kid has been looking for his other half for as long as he's been looking for a family. He has us and he needs you, we all do." He brushed away Tommy's curls from his forehead, "You have a family with us too, we need you. Not because you’re Buck's boyfriend, we just need you kid." He sighed, regretting the times in where didn't push for Tommy to open up to him.
He was just as guarded as Bobby was back then when they were both at the 118. But Bobby could see it, there was a level of uncertainness that Tommy had carried on his shoulder when he was with the 118. He figured it was guilt and something else, something that made Tommy seem closed off even when he was trying to relax during team dinners.
"Listen," Bobby pulled out his rosary and miniature Bible, "I know you don't consider yourself Catholic anymore, but praying is what I do for my family." He leaned back in the chair and started to pray.
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ripplesinthesand · 5 months ago
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anakin in the rots novelization is so so funny like i can't get over how hilariously insane his life is. gets sent to rescue the most important man in the galaxy who also happens to be his mentor and father figure, manages to save said father figure but crash lands on coruscant in the process, finds out his wife is pregnant, gets promoted and then immediately demoted, gets asked by his best friend/other father figure to spy on palpatine because it turns out the republic he has spent the last three years defending is about to crumble into dust and palpatine may somehow be involved, starts being tormented by visions of padme's death, is told by palpatine that actually it's the jedi who are plotting to destroy the republic and also i know you and padme are married and also i am a sith lord and i can teach you the ways of the dark side which can help save padme's life. meanwhile - and this is so important - anakin literally has not slept or eaten in like a week. and from there it somehow manages to get even worse. it's SO funny, like his brain is being pulled in twenty different directions by everyone he cares about and he hasn't even had like. a granola bar. or taken a shower in three days.
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hellishjoel · 1 year ago
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dark paradise 
5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader
Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4
summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter
A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)
“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.  He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.  “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.  “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.
Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week. 
No text, no calls, no anything.
It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be. 
Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when. 
Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock. 
You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.  
Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive. 
Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.  
Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.  
That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.
You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window. 
Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?
He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.  
You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again. 
Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good. 
Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts. 
You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.
You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first. 
“Hey.” 
He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.” 
He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel. 
You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.
You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed. 
“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question. 
Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk. 
“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore. 
You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man. 
“You haven’t texted me.” 
“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.” 
“Joel.” You pushed. 
“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely. 
“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”
“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.” 
“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.
“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment. 
There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel. 
“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right. 
You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you. 
“Well I-”
“You what?” 
He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out. 
You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together. 
This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn. 
“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his. 
Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement. 
“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt. 
You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again. 
Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.
You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.
“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care. 
It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it. 
You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.
And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.
There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn’t feel the same way. 
His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck. 
He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt. 
“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach. 
Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited. 
“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.
Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed. 
Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.
You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away. 
“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.
You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck. 
His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet. 
The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were. 
You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time. 
“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.
“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket. 
You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly. 
There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky. 
“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy. 
He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head. 
“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick. 
Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.
His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back. 
Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you. 
“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh. 
“But-” 
“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort. 
A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him. 
Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.
“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. 
He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. 
“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. 
“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch. 
You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs. 
Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch. 
Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips. 
“Time is of the essence, Joel.” 
He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim. 
Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold. 
You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths. 
You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now. 
“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late. 
His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time. 
You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation. 
Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession. 
Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good. 
Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.
You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now. 
You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good. 
Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?
 You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes. 
He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.
“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel. 
“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel. 
You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.  
You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy. 
Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles. 
“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.
You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You 
weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping. 
You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples. 
“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.
Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this. 
Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer. 
Then he tried something new. 
A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue. 
The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision. 
A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.
Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers. 
Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls. 
You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late. 
“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.
You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole. 
Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you. 
You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment. 
He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place. 
You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication. 
You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine. 
Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.
“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate. 
“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers. 
“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together. 
“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face. 
“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive. 
He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb. 
You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs. 
You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip. 
You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise. 
You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly. 
“What?”
You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet. 
A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder. 
You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.” 
With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be. 
You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck. 
“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned  to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.” 
A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.” 
He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”
You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.” 
Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”
“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.” 
This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.” 
Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”
Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake. 
This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness. 
You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.
Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness. 
joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?
You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response. 
how about a movie night? 
He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye. 
joel miller Fine. 
Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one. 
and I can pick the movie?
You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away. 
joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night. 
Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner. 
tomorrow night it is, mr. miller 
joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.
---
wanna read part 3? read cherry!
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w2soneshots · 6 months ago
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Ibiza -W2S
words: 1.2k+
warnings: alcohol consumption.
summary: you spend the day on a yacht while your boyfriend and his mates film hide & seek. You deal with his mean drunkenness. Then when you get back to the villa you take care of him.
notes: this is based off of this request!! I think drunk Harry’s hilarious😭. Don’t forget to reblog! Enjoy this extra lone one💓✨
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y/username: Ibiza 2024!🌴🍹🌺☀️💘
Tagged: @wroetoshaw @behzingagram @faithloisak @taliamar @freyanightingale
-comments-
wroetoshaw: 🔥🔥
faithloisak: you cutie
taliamar: stunning girl🫶🏼
y/nfanpage21: pahaha the second pic😭
user31096420: another iconic sidemen holiday
user91837410: she's so fit
A few days ago we arrived in Ibiza. It was initially just going to be the boys because they were planning a few sidemen videos. But they decided that there hasn't been a proper holiday with everyone for years since, Ethan and Faith had Olive, Me and Harry got married, as well as Simon and Talia so we cleared our schedules and booked tickets.
We're here for a week and plan on doing as much relaxing as we can but the boys still need to film their videos. Today they're filming a hide and seek on a huge yacht. We're all staying in a massive villa that's really close to the sea line. "Morning." Harry yawned. My sleepy face curved into a content smile. "Good morning." I whispered before kissing his soft lips. Harry wrapped his arms around my torso. "Do we have to get up?" He dug his head into my neck. "Yes Haz. The boats booked for eleven." I replied. He groaned.
Eventually I got him up and we began getting ready. I pulled on a bikini that wouldn't give me offensive tan lines, since I'm planning on laying in the sun all day. Then popped on a cute cover up. Once I'd sorted my hair and covered myself in suncream I headed downstairs where everyone was sat eating breakfast. I said "good morning." then grabbed a plate of fresh fruit along with a smoothie.
After breakfast we all collected the last of our things then just as the taxis pulled up we left. Harry helped Ethan get Olives stuff into the boot while I carried the baby for Faith while she clipped in the car seat. It's only a ten minute drive so we were soon being dropped off at the dock. The day before yesterday we spent a few hours on a smaller boat but today (since they're filming a video) the yacht is massive. The crew also flew in yesterday to film this video so they met us here.
We were told not to grab our things from the taxis because the staff on board would get it for us. When we got onto the yacht we were immediately given drinks and a quick toor. The woman brought us up some stairs. "And these are the tanning loungers." Me and the girls looked at each other with a smile. "This is where I'm going to be spending the rest of the day." Talia joked, but she was being fully serious and I felt exactly the same.
The boys wondered off to film the intro for the video and all four of us girls lay down on a lounger, while Olive slept next to Faith in a little travel cot under one of the large umbrellas. I chatted quietly with Talia, Freya started reading her book and Faith soaked up the sun. We could hear the boys screaming, shouting and laughing as they filmed. Vik was the seeker and wasn't doing the best job which was obvious from what we could see from the top deck, but I'm sure that will make the video even funnier.
Once Harry, Ethan and Josh had been found we caught them peering up at us quite a few times. "You all look like creeps you know!" I shouted. The girls laughed from beside me and the boys faces turned a bright shade of red. "You just look too good in that bikini babe!" Harry shouted back sarcastically. I smirked with a shake of my head. Then returned to tanning.
After almost three hours the boys finally finished filming so we had some lunch. As the day went on we jumped into the sea, played mafia and just sat around enjoying each other's company. Everyone began actually drinking as it started to get later. Accept me, Faith, JJ and Tobi because I had had like one or two but really couldn't be arsed with a hangover, Faith needed to look after Olive and JJ and Tobi don't drink.
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I sat next to Harry as he swayed back and forth slightly. "You alright?" I asked. He was clearly very drunk. "What? Oh. Shut up I'm fine." He replied. I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I looked around the group, all eyes on us. I burst into a fit of laughter. "Alright big man I think it's time you get to bed." I tried to help him stand. "No!" He shouted. I sighed tiredly. "Here. I'll help." Tobi got up from his seat. We decided to all call it a night so left the ship and got taxi's back to the villa.
"Here you go mate." JJ murmured as him and Tobi lay an almost asleep Harry on our bed. "Thanks boys." I smiled as they walked out with a quick "good night." I pulled Harry's clothes off, leaving him in just his boxers. Then I placed a glass of water on his nightstand, along with some paracetamol for his hangover. Thankfully Harry usually isn't physically sick when he has a hangover so there was no need for a bucket. After I took a quick shower I slipped into bed, next to him.
The next morning I got up decently early to make everyone breakfast. Faith was already downstairs since Olive had been awake for quite awhile and she didn't want to wake Ethan up since he was hungover and he woke up early yesterday for Olive. "Good morning you cutie." I greeted Olive in my high pitched baby voice, that seems to just appear whenever I'm around animals or babies. She giggled with the sweetest little smile.
"Morning." Faith also smiled as I sat down next to her on the couch. "So last night Harry seemed to be a little..." "mean." I finished her sentence. "Well yea." She breathed out a laugh. "He's a mean drunk. It really doesn't bother me to be honest. I find it hilarious." I chuckled. "I'm glad, I was a little concerned." "The first time we went out together it was a bit of a shock to the system but over the years I realised that it's just how he reacts to alcohol."
After a good chat with Faith I headed back upstairs to check on Harry. I slowly opened to door to see Harry front down on the bed with his face turned towards the door. I walked towards him and squatted in front of him. "Harry." I whispered as my hand gently stroked his face. He groaned. "Have some paracetamol love." I grabbed the pack from the nightstand. "My head hurts." He slowly opened one of his eyes. I smiled at him "I know. Sit up for me."
He pushed himself up and turned over so he was sitting against the headboard. He took the tablet along with almost the entire glass of water. "Was I mean?" He asked quietly. I laughed "Uhm... I've had much worse." He groaned as he covered his face with his hands. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Don't be. You were completely gone with the fairies." I said sarcastically. He chuckled but then winced, probably from the pounding headache. "Go back to sleep. I'll have breakfast downstairs when you're ready." I quickly pecked his forehead. "You're too good to me." He replied as he returned to his previous position.
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leclercsbunny · 1 year ago
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still writing pages ♡ c. leclerc
part one ♡ masterlist
summary: he left you at the altar on your wedding day three years ago... and you found out later you weren't the only one.
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yourusername back in monaco🌞🍃🫶
danielricciardo yesssss !! now we can brunch everyday instead of once if i catch you free time <3
yourusername bottomless mimosas it is🥂
danielricciardo can't wait :)
maxverstappen1 actually running and not walking
maxverstappen1 i hope you have actual food in your house because i'm starving
yourusername ???
yourusername i should be asking to have dinner in yours because i just moved !!
susie_wolff good for you sweetheart😘
yourusername will miss you !!
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charles squinted, not quite believing his eyes; he wasn't totally certain that his vision weren't playing some twisted trick on him. he hasn't slept properly, and he wasn't all that sober either. still reeling from the wild night which had become a tradition of sorts during the summer break.
he was sure it was you. your graceful silhouette still haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. the guilt still creeped in his bones, it still made him cringe with dread and regret. he couldn't possibly forget the woman he's done so painfully wrong by.
you were laughing, brown hair falling gracefully on your shoulders, eyes bright with amusement as you bask in the attention of the man infront of you.
despite himself, charles felt his chest tighten.
he's thought of a million ways when he'd meet you again, replaying different scenarios all over his head when he couldn't sleep at night and only the thought of you to accompany him.
charles thought he'd fall to his knees and beg you for forgiveness. he knew he'd cry, he knew that he'd take whatever hurtful words or hits you'd give him.
he abandoned you on the day he was supposed to promise you forever. and there was no right or even enough explanation for it. he'd carry that sin for the rest of his life.
charles took a hesitant step to reach you, heart hammering on his chest.
“maman!” a childish yelp came out from nowhere, and a toddler, barely reaching his knees came running to you.
your face lit up, opening your arms to the little girl who's ocean eyes he could spot anywhere.
charles physically felt all breath leave his lungs, a faint ringing echoing in his ear. he felt weak. scared. shaky. he felt it impossible to hold himself together, and he's barely managed to hold onto a seat to refrain from falling on his face.
fuck. he was irrevocably fucked.
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yourusername our first date night in monaco🩷
maxverstappen1 great dinner with you guys !!
danielricciardo and nobody freaking called me !? traitors !!
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zaynesplushiekiller · 10 months ago
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it's quiet today.
too quiet, and zayne is acutely aware of it. he knows it's half-past midnight and his shift ended three hours ago, but he can't bring himself to leave his office. it's quiet now, but it might be loud later, and at that point it would've just been easier to stay at his office.
so he did, of course he did.
his work-life balance is nonexistent, and he's not sure when the line of balance became so blurry, was it when he first started working, or was it the day after he knew he would become a doctor? he's not sure, and now it's become too engrained in his mind to just stay a little longer.
the quiet could not last for long, because this is a hospital and it could never last long, but he's surprised when it's a knock on his door and not an emergency code over the intercoms or a message on his pager.
"come in." he calls, but even he is surprised at how quiet his voice is. when's the last time he's had a sip of water?
"dr. zayne~ there you are!" you singsong, walking through his office and arriving in front of his desk. there's a pretty smile on your face and a look in your eyes. zayne has grown accustomed to this look meaning 'you haven't eaten or had a drink or slept in the last twelve hours so here's me bringing you things', and it seems to fill him with something. a feeling of yearning? he's not sure.
before he can say anything, specifically 'why are you here so late?', you sit a plastic bag down in front of him. he already recognizes the logo on the bag as the one from the convenience store down the street, and from only a glimpse inside of the bag, he knows whats inside of it.
"i was going to see if you just wanted to get takeout but then i realized the time, i figured this would be quicker."
"why are you here so late?" he hasn't forgotten the time like you have. it's almost one in the morning now, and you should be home, sleeping. you are a hunter now, after all.
you give him another look, one where you scrunch your nose and look away from him. "i bring you goodies and dinner and you treat me like this?" there's a shift in tone in your voice, and you let out a giggle at the end of your sentence.
cute, but doesn't answer his question.
"thank you for the food. why are you here so late?" you click your tongue in response. always the stickler for rules, isn't he?
"because i knew you'd still be here." he can't argue with that logic, but something both eats at and fills him. you should've been at home, not worrying about him. but the fact that you were worrying about him... well he couldn't deny that the idea made him a little joyful.
"c'mon, eat," you insist, sitting across him at the desk. "i won't even pester you about going home if you do. well- actually, i can't guarantee that." he doesn't respond, only shooting you a look.
"oh! let me tell you about work today..." once you start talking, he doesn't stop you. it's nice to hear your voice, to see your smile.
as he eats the food you brought him, a thought crosses his mind... how deeply he's missed this.
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winterandwords · 1 year ago
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Grammarly: Here's your free Premium suggestion. Would you like to pay me now? Me: Nope, I'm cool. You're just here to pick up some minor stuff that my built-in spellchecker and I might miss. I fully appreciate the freebie though and I understand the occasional nudge for money because that's your business model. Grammarly: But I can show you how to make that confusing sentence more coherent! Me: My brother in crystal meth, this character hasn't slept in three days, his blood is mostly vodka, he's having a hundred thoughts at once, half of them are about murder, and he's trying to filter the other half through hallucinogenic plants at 2am. That sentence is not supposed to be coherent. It's supposed to be vibes and apocalyptic poetry.
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short-honey-badger · 10 months ago
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Trouble Sleeping
This is pure filthy smut, that's literally it. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings! Smut SMut Smut! ABO universe as well. It's been a looong time since I've written for it. Pre time skip Law btw!
Pairings: Alpha! Trafalger D. Water Law x Omega! Reader
Summary: You notice that your captain hasn't slept in the past couple of days, so you offer to help him relax.
Part 2 ->
Masterlist.
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It’s been what? Two? Three days since the last time Law had gotten a decent night’s rest? If it wasn’t the nightmares keeping him up every time he closed his eyes, then it was his incessant need to plan. To go over the research the alpha had begun to gather about Punk Hazard and Ceasar’s operation. It was all to get closer to Doflamingo of course, but Trafalgar would give anything not to have to deal with the disgusting scientist. 
And to get some rest, but the pirate doubted that would come anytime soon. 
Law wipes his eyes, pushing away from his desk and closing the thick folder of compiled notes. He needed a break, maybe even something to eat, too. The alpha’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food and he stood from his desk, grabbing his hat and fixing it properly on his head.
As he walked through the walls of familiar walls of the Polar Tang, Law thought about the newest member of his crew. While he wasn’t in the habit of picking up strays, you had piqued his interest when you wouldn’t stop bugging him and his crew about learning medicine. To quench his curiosity, Law had allowed you to come on board, and you have been a dutiful student ever since. And despite what Penguin and Shachi liked to think, it was not because you were a pretty omega in need asking for his help. Trafalgar liked to think he was better than his alpha instincts. 
Ah. Speaking of the omega, Law could smell your honeysuckle scent just around the corner. You must been in the galley. 
Law spots you at one of the tables in the corner, nose stuck in a medical text and a half-empty plate of whatever the cooks had made tonight. On a whim, he decides to grab a cup of coffee and his own serving and joins you at your table. You jump when he sets his plate down, but your expression brightens the moment you notice that it is your captain sitting across from you.
“Evening, Cap’n,” you greet, and Law finds his shoulders relaxing when he catches your scent again. It is warm and welcoming, soothing his frayed nerves with ease. 
“_-ya,” Law rumbles back in greeting and meets your eyes, smirking when he notices you watching him. He isn’t surprised when you speak up, but he doesn’t expect you to sound so concerned. 
“Have ya been gettin’ enough sleep Cap’n? Not ta speak out of turn, but you don’t look so good. A-and I’ve seen you roamin’ the halls more than usual,” you’re blushing when you finish, but Law finds your rambling endearing and doesn’t bother lying to you like he might others.
“Not really, little medic, but you shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” He assures you and then sips his coffee. He glances over to see that the omega doesn’t look very satisfied with his answer, and his instincts make themselves known when he catches a whiff of hot displeasure in your scent. 
Before Trafalgar can do much and possibly make a fool of himself, you speak up again. 
“Well, is there anything that I can do to help?” the omega asks, and Law pauses, arm stalling midair, fork halfway to his mouth. Despite the innocent way you ask the question, his mind goes straight to the gutter, and the pirate captain sees you on your knees in his bed, face down and ass up, presenting beautifully for him. Law can hear the way your cute accent whispers his name, pretty eyes glistening with tears as you beg him for his cock. 
“Cap’n? You okay, there?” A cool hand on his forehead and your soft voice bring the alpha out of his daydream, and he flushes even more at having been caught zoning out like that. 
“Ah, sorry about that, _-ya. Just tired, like I said,” Law murmurs and sets his fork down to hide his face behind his cup of coffee. You assure him that he is fine and tentatively go back to your book when it seems like Law isn’t going to answer your question. 
In reality, the alpha is pondering your question. It was a fact that omegas were able to put alphas in a calming state. Usually, Law wouldn’t mention it, but you had asked if you could do anything for him, and your omega pheromones would most likely do the trick and put him to sleep. 
“You know what,” Law begins and you jerk your head up to look at him, surprised that he’d spoken up, “I think you can help me out, little medic. If you’re done here?”
Your eyebrows jump up, and then the little omega is nodding, a happy smile painting your lips. Law watches you stand and close your book, tucking it under your arm and then tossing your cleaned plate in the sink at the back of the room. He follows your path, and then Law is leading you out of the kitchen and back to his office. 
The alpha keeps going, opening up the door in his office that connects to his bedroom. You tentatively follow after him, and Law’s alpha rumbles in satisfaction at having such a pretty omega in his room. His scent, clean and fresh with a hint of steel, coats everything, and Law quietly hopes that it sticks with you after you leave his room. 
Trafalgar doesn’t think twice about tossing his hat to the side and shrugging off his shirt. His jeans are replaced by a pair of soft sweats, and when he looks at you, your face is bright red, eyes wide in shock. Your scent sweetens with a hint of arousal and Law smirks, it’s a surprise, but not unwelcome.
“You’ve learned a lot while you’ve been here, _-ya. So you know that omegas can manipulate their scents to calm down the other sex in tense situations. It works better when they have been near one another for long periods of time. I’d like for you to do that for me if you’re comfortable with that.” 
Law watches the omega as you think, but it doesn’t take you long to come to a decision. You set your book aside and give him a shy, unsure smile. 
“Got another pair of sweatpants? Jeans aren’t very comfortable to lay down in.”
The alpha chuckles and then sets about finding another pair of sweats. A dark, possessive part of him is delighted at the sight of you standing in his room with a pair of too-big sweatpants, and Law has to fight down the almost overwhelming need to pull you into his bed to scent you. Instead, like the gentleman he is trying to be, Law pulls back the covers of his bed and stands back, offering for you to crawl in first. 
“Make yourself comfortable,” the alpha drawls, and watches with lidded eyes as you slip into his his bed. He follows after and cuts the lights with a flick of his fingers and the use of his devil fruit. Law hears you suck in a sharp breath when he settles in beside you, laying on his side and tossing an arm over your hip. He emits his own calming pheromones and blinks at the back of your head when you take deep, shuddering breaths of his scent. 
The alpha hadn’t expected you to do that, but the sight of you breathing in his scent made his hold on you tighten, and Law pulled you back into his chest, leaning down to bury his face in your hair. He hums when you lift your leg, and he slips his thigh in between your legs, bringing the two of you impossibly closer. 
After that, it is easy for the two of you to relax, honeysuckle and steel mixing to create a unique scent that represents the alpha and omega. Being surrounded by the combined scent leaves Law feeling drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he shoves his face closer to the scent gland on your neck, desperate for more of that sweet honeysuckle. You squirm for half a second and then settle again, content to help out your captain where you can.
Neither of you expects to fall asleep, but when Law wakes, he feels far more refreshed than he has in a long time. He cracks open his eyes and takes in the new position the two of you shifted to in sleep. Trafalgar lays on his back and the little omega has sprawled over his chest, your face pressed into the hollow of his throat, and arms wrapped around his neck. His arms are wrapped securely around your waist, and Law smiles when you mutter softly and shift in your sleep.
Law contemplates going back to sleep, but then you shift again, and all thoughts of sleep fly out of his mind when your hip brushes against his cock. He fights back a groan, tattooed hands flexing and digging into your soft skin. Fuck. He wants you. He wants your attention, and your pretty eyes and plush mouth on him all the time. The alpha wants to bite you, sink his teeth into your nape, and claim you as his. 
He rolls, trapping you under him, and you wake with a gasp, eyes flying open to stare at your captain who looms above you. He looks frightening in the low light of his room, but the way his scent is wrapped around you is nothing but comforting. You aren’t scared of this dangerous alpha. 
“_-ya,” Law growls your name, dipping down to press his brow against your own, eyes catching yours and glowing with hot arousal, “You did so well for me. Helping me get some rest. Let me reward such a good omega.” 
The way your scent turns hot and sticky with arousal is enough of an answer for Law. He turns his head, keeping himself held up with one arm as the other grips your jaw. Trafalgar’s lips meet your own in a steamy kiss. He smooths his thumb up, catching your bottom lip and tugging it down, pulling your mouth open enough to slip his tongue inside. 
You whine under him, hands digging into his hair to the point of pain, but it only makes the alpha groan into the kiss. Law’s dick throbs in his pants, so he moves, grinding up into the welcoming heat between his legs. The friction is delicious, but it isn’t enough. 
Law lifts himself up, breaking the kiss and leaving you winded. Your pupils are blown, and your mouth is bright red from the way his facial hair has rubbed against your skin. He shimmies down, hands finding the waistband of the sweats you wear and hooking his fingers under them. He makes sure to catch the other elastic band he feels and tugs the pants and your underwear down in one fell swoop. 
“Fuck, you smell so good, Baby,” Law rumbles and shoves his face in the slope of your right, lips mouthing at the minor scent glands there. You cry out and grp his hair even harder, eyes blown wide as you watch him breathe you in, “Like honey and warm desserts.” 
“Y-you smell good too, Cap’n,” You whisper, voice shaking as you try and deal with the pleasure that Law smothers you with, “Clean and fresh. I like it.” 
A low growl erupts in the room and Law rewards your compliment by flattening his tongue and licking a stripe along your entire cunt. The alpha groans at the taste, your slick is just as sweet as you smell, and Trafalgar regrets never asking you to his room sooner. He grabs your hips, lifting them so that he can point his tongue and shove it deep into your leaking hole. 
You wail, curses falling from your lips as you buck your hips against his face, seeking that burning pleasure that only Law can give you. The alpha drinks from you, lewd slurping sounds filling the room until you are bowing forward and pulling him off your cunt. 
Law’s face is soaked in your juices, and he bares his teeth at you for pushing him away. He would know if he’d made you come, and he looks at you to demand an answer. 
“I want you to fuck me, Cap’n,” You say and it stalls Law in his tracks. Your eyes shine with want and you grip his shoulders, nails digging in, “I- I want to come on your cock, not your tongue.” 
The pirate can’t get his pants off fast enough. His lanky legs end up getting tangled in his sweats, but you patiently extract the fabric and toss them to the floor. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, and slick leaks out of you to stain Law’s sheets. The alpha’s dick is the perfect specimen, thick at the base, knot looking inflated already. His length tapers up slightly, only to end in a silky head that leaks with precum. 
“Get on your knees, Baby. Present for me, yeah?” Law orders and you scramble to obey, brain mush with alpha pheromones that leave you feeling fuzzy. 
His omega rolls to their knees, thighs parted in a wonderful display of trust. You bite the pillow under you, whining when your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of your Captain. Tears leak from your eyes and a low cry escapes you when Law drapes himself over your back, cock slotting between your legs and dragging over your pussy. 
Law ruts against you, coating his dick in your slick until his member is nice and soaked. He leans back enough to grab the base, angling it up to run the head of his cock through your folds. You sob at the feeling, back arching and hips shaking in search of him. 
“Please, Law. I’m wet enough, just put it in,” You whine and the alpha growls at the way you beg him. His tip catches your entrance on his neck stroke, and Law doesn’t stop gravity as he sinks into your warm heat. 
You feel amazing around him, walls fluttering and gripping his cock so tightly that Law hisses as he sicks another inch down. His mouth drops, and he sucks in greedy mouthfuls of your scent, leaning down to nip at the gland on your neck where the sweet smell is the most potent. 
“You’re mine after this, got it, omega? No one else can have you this way. No one else can feel your tight cunt other than me,” Law snarls and you nod frantically, face still pressed into the pillows. 
The alpha doesn’t wait any longer, sinking the rest of the way inside and snarling at the way his knot catches on your walls. It's overwhelming, and Law presses his forehead harshly against your shoulder blades to prevent himself from biting you. Now wasn’t the time to try and forge a mating bond. Not when Doflamingo still threatened everything that Law cared for. 
Trafalgar fucks you like a man possessed, hands harsh and fingertips digging in hard enough to leave bruises. He snaps his hips, dragging his cock along your walls as you clench and flutter around him. He changes angles, slowing down only to roughly slam into you, and you shout when his dick catches against that spongy spot inside of you. 
Law grins, teeth bared in a feral grin as he focuses on that spot and pounds into your cunt. Your hands grip the sheets hard enough the tear them, tears leaking down your face as Law abuses that spot inside of you. It’s not long before the alpha has you shouting your name, jaw dropping open in a silent scream as you come around his cock. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Law chants when your cunt constricts around him. He wants to come inside of you, pump you so full of his seed that it would be dripping out for the next week. But knotting you means pups, and those aren’t something that anyone needs right now. 
So, despite his instincts screaming at him to mark you on the inside, Law pulls out when he feels that tension snap, pumping his dick and instead painting your backside and cunt with his spend. He milks his cock, shaking and whining as he gently massages his knot. Your hips have fallen without Law to hold you up, but that doesn’t stop him from draping himself back over the omega, hand finding your hip and rubbing his cum into your skin. He needed to make sure that you were properly covered after all. 
Below him, you settle into the comfy bed and close your eyes. You are content to let your alpha take care of you, and so easily fall back to sleep. 
Your captain snickers softly when he notices that his omega has already dropped back off to sleep, and rolls the two of you to the side, snuggling close and closing his eyes. He’d take you to the shower later, but for now, Law was just happy that you were here to help him go back to sleep too. 
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