#i have this issue with midnights as a whole it just sounds more like a computer made it instead of a real person

[lilacerull0]

my big dark secret is that i do not care about you're losing me

[the-shape-shifting-system]

CW: Rant

Shoutout to our past selves (especially Aether) for never lashing out when we were being mocked for being in pain, after walking non-stop for a few minutes, by our family (like on shopping trips).

Also, we apparently have no right to be in pain after a whole day of walking around a huge ass town while our sibling has a sprained ankle. Granted, their ankle probably hurt a lot, and they tend to have chronic pains after injuries in the spots that suffered the trauma. But that doesn't stop us from also being in pain, and being mocked for it is pretty annoying ('pretty', yeah, just that /s). Honestly surprised we didn't lash out that time either.

[millerscoffee]

reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?"  You roll into the dining hall in a huff.  Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?"  Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door.  His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way.  Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you.  Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town.  It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back.  No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ."  He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort.  Conversation over. 

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table.  The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain.  Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know."  Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me.  Listen, this is a family dinner.  Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less.  Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel.  So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs.  You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?"  His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry."  It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example.  Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction.  You sound meek, scared to say something wrong.  A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment.  Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast.  Now."  Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer.  A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others.  Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much.  You consider it a win.  Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner.  The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey?  It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you.  You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk.  Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol.  Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon.  Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer.  "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate.  You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria.  He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that.  The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off.  You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard.  Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly.  "Yea, he was drunk this morning.  Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale.  "Shit.  We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything.  It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them.  That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest.  You don't think about his experiences that often.  But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that.  You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out,"  you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out.  You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

~~

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them.  They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up.  And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared.  They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's?  Please?"  Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was.  It seemed to do the trick, though.  Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something.  The look is inculpatory without you doing anything.  As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you.  "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria.  She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you.  "What'd I miss?"  You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel?  Not so much.  His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him.  You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening.  Or at least trying.  It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other.  More arguing than speaking.  And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions."  Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction.  It makes you scared and delighted at once.  Like he was back to normal.  Your normal.

"I was listening to her?"  You retort, and everyone's quiet now.  Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out.  "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–"  "Hey, now."  Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad.  Reflective.  Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age.  People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in.  You truly felt alone.  Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room.  Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult.  It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around.  Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas.  Cotton shorts and a loose tee.  Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric.  A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep.  Needing release.  Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down.  It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different.  You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts.  You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact.  What that would sound like against your ear.  Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt.  A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from.  The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass.  One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace.  He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny.  A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was.  Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used.  Of... making him proud.

"What?"  His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside.  The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you.  You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly.  It locks you in place.

"You came here.  Why?  Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position.  You can't think, you can't nod or say words.  You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans.  "How about now.  You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?"  His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment.  Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid.  Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour.  You can't think of a thing to say.  Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts.  Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him.  Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right.  You answer to me."  The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance.  He doesn't own you, he never fucking could.  The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose.  "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes.  Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl.  You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think.  Meaningless, even.  What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house.  You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie.  It's dark, a single lamp upstairs.  All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin.  It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close.  His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me.  Don't say sorry when I know you're not."  His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface.  Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit.  "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use.  I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?"  The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees.  Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away.  Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants.  You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light.  You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock.  "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?"  The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise.  And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age.  You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him.  After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further.  "Fuck.  You hear that?  Nothing!  Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it?  Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it.  Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want.  The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place.  His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was.  You wanted to scream, kick him.  Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day.  A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips.  And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock.  Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit.  It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely.  Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way.  Your gone expression.  All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth.  You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard.  "Nuh uh.  You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl.  Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it.  Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound.  Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself.  He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee.  Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass.  "But somebody better teach you better manners.  Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth.  You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else.  "Lucky I ain't making y'count.  You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway.  He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms.  Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him.  "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished.  I talked so bad about you, and you liked it?  You’re as desperate as I thought.  Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.”  And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view.  Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again.  His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs.  Right where he wants you.  Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds.  He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder.  Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done.  It’s over.  All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him.  It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough.  “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring.  He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him.  You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with.  And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds.  The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft.  He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down.  “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her.  You want that, kitten?  Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?”  his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is.  “Put a baby right here.  Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought.  It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before.  Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this?  Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you.  How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”  His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples.  When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise.  You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge.  So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you.  Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard.  His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body.  “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate.  Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin.  “No, no, please.  Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you.  Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you.  And he likes what he sees.  Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you.  Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing.  “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age.  But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment.  It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming.  To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please.  Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it.  Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder.  Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place.  “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now.  Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure.  You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s.  You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it.  He had it.  He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily.  “Please, daddy.  Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya.  Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice.  Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you.  Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it.  He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full.  “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt.  All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat.  It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides.  It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,”  Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him.  Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging.  “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl?  Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.”  Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him.  “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise.  As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix.  “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you.  You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does.  The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you.  His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls.  Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you.  It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture.  Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this.  His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit.  You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock.  You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it.  Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides.  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still.  You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him.  Did he say you could do that?  As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck.  Without his permission.  You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips.  He looks so menacing like this, scary.  You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you.  You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you.  Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect.  A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do.  He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react.  He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is.  As unwilling to give away freedom.  Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it.  Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much.  When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts.  You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you.  You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it.  His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing.  He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure.  “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it.  “Please, pl– it’s too much!  Daddy!”  That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone.  Again and again.  As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely.  His cock, his finger.  His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock.  How did he get hard again?!  He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something.  A release, a grind.  You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?”  He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel.  “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod.  “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.  Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk.  “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are.  “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did.  Belong to me now, you understand?  Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words.  You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?”  You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest.  “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear.  Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole.  He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

[thematpatcu]

So uh,,, just gonna let this go here,,,

Off Night

BillxFordxFiddleford

Silly eepy time fic I made in a cold sweat trust

“Specs really is tired tonight, huh? Must be tiring being worked down to the bone.” This again. Bill had already gone through this whole conversation 30 minutes ago, and Ford thought he had dropped the issue by now.

‘He’s fine, Bill, he’s probably just having an off day.’ It happens to the best of us, and if anybody can pull through this, it’s him and Fiddleford. They’re not like everybody else, they can achieve anything they put their minds to, as long as they’re willing to put in the hours.

“Off night.” For a moment, Bill sounded cross, but he quickly returned to his usual cheery demeanor. “It’s almost midnight, Sixer. Don’t tell me you’re losing track of time again.”

‘We’ve worked longer.’

Right as he heard Bill sigh, Fiddleford spoke up. “Stanford..?”

“Hm? Yes, Partner?”

He was avoiding eye contact with him. “‘S been a long night, and I oughta get home soon-“

“But we’re so close to hitting the next big break on the portal!” Stanford shot him a desperate look, “Please, Fidds, just five more minutes…”

Fiddleford fidgeted with his hands, a wobbly smile appearing across his face, “Right, I know, but, portal’ll be there tomorrow, won’t it? Plus, I gave ya five more minutes…” He shrunk in on himself, mumbling now, “thirty minutes ago…”

‘Can’t believe you’re making me do this, IQ.’

“Do what?” Before Fiddleford could ask why he just asked that, Stanford slumped against the desk, rising back up with yellow eyes.

“Alright, Mr Inventor, I’ve heard ya loud and clear!” He stood tall, hands at his hips, grinning unnaturally wide at the hillbilly.

“Bill..?”

“The one and only! So, ol’ Sixer won’t let ya sleep, huh?” He cocked his head to the side, his smile turning more cocky.

Fiddleford looked down, to his left and right, anywhere that wasn’t Bill’s face. “Oh, it ain’t like that..”

“I can tell when you’re lyingggg, smart guyyyy!” He crowded into Fidd’s personal space, looming over him like he always did.

“If Stanford wants us to stay up… I will. ‘S what you do when ya care fer someone.” He was doing that whole starry-eyed look again. Bill was starting to notice it on the hillbilly more and more.

It was disgusting. He hated it. “You’re going to bed whether I have to make you or not.”

Fiddleford crossed his arms, turning to face him in his chair head on. He stared Bill in the eyes, a determined (if tired) look on his face. “Make me, then.” Bill hated that look, the inventor had used it on him before and it made Stanford’s stupid body get all warm and jumpy every time.

His voice was low when he found it, “Careful what you wish for, Specs.” Bill lunged at Fiddleford, but missed, allowing him time to slip away and run off into another room of the house. “YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CANT HIDE!” He knew he wouldn’t go easy if he had egged him on, but the face Bill makes because of it is worth it every time, even if he’s very certain he’s going to die now. His hiding spot is good, sure, but the dropped pots and pans might have given him away.

Bill is close, he can tell. He can feel his presence looming closer. Bill slows his pace, tutting in front of him like a disappointed teacher. “I really expected better from you, Banjo.”

Fidd sighed, standing up, walking into the room, lit up by the moonlight shining through the window. One of the only ones that didn’t have Bill in it. Though, Fidd supposed, it’s got Bill in it right now. His eyes are in the reflection. “Ya really just want me to go to bed that badly?”

“Yep!” Bill took his hand, (er, more so his wrist,) dragging Fiddleford to his and Stanford’s shared room. He brought Fidd to the edge of the bed, slapping his back so hard he fell forward onto it. “Golly, ya fell real easy! Ahahaha! Just like how ya fell for Ford.”

“What was that last part?” Fidd looked at Bill, red as a cherry, but he was already gone. Stanford fell on top of him, completely knocked out cold. He tried to move the bigger man off of him as gently as he could, Stanford hitting the bed with a loud thud. He immediately started snoring.

Fiddleford chuckled to himself, got under the blankets, and fell asleep.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Bradley! What did you do?!"

Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here. 

You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"

He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."

You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow." 

For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would. 

"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"

You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."

"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot. 

Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.

-------------------------

It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes. 

There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right. 

You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.

"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."

Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart." 

Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him. 

Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal. 

"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.

"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered. 

His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."

"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.

"Thanks for my birthday dinner."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"

"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later. 

You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound. 

He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. 

"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.  

"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain. 

He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"

You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

-------------------------------

When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him. 

Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck. 

"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."

You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."

He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you. 

You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"

"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."

"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"

"Yep."

"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking  nasty stuff in there together."

You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."

Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."

"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"

"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.

"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back. 

"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it. 

There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back. 

"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.

This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.

You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"

"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you. 

"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly. 

"Aren't you my present?" 

You smirked. "I got you something else, too."

"I want it."

When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."

So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready? 

Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."  

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.

He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around. 

Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing. 

"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."

You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."

He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."

Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"

"Shit. I might like March the best now."

"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game. 

"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping. 

"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."

"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric. 

But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life. 

He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass. 

"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair. 

"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"

But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.

"I do have a request."

He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me." 

You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.

"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."

"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube. 

"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms. 

"Bradley!" you whined. 

"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.

"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing. 

"No. Keep going."

----------------------------

It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock. 

"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.

Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."

When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his. 

"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.

"Did you like that?"

He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."

You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly. 

"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."

He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"

Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?" 

"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"

"Oh. You really liked that."

"I really liked that."

-------------------------

Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you. 

"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."

He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."

"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."

He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled. 

Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.

Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep. 

Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic. 

"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.

"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face. 

"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."

"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."

"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."

He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it. 

"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away. 

"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room. 

Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

------------------------------

Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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@sagittarius-flowerchild

[bettysupremacy]

I’m begging for anything with Steve and reader having a really early morning or late night swimming session in his pool. Just a cute couple taking advantage of Steve’s huge pool during hot summer. Just like lazy fluff pleaseee. Steve is so summer bf

Steve is my summer bf, and I firmly believe that! Thank you for your request!! ☆

Steve has beaten you in tag three times now. It’s admittedly not something he’s proud of, but it’s also not something he’s going to deny for a fourth round.

“Give me a chance!”

You crack up at the sounds of his boyish giggles getting louder as he advances. Just as breathless as you, he overcomes, prize set determinedly in mind. His hands on you.

His large wet hands grab you triumphantly as he advances, maneuvering you into his arms. “-And he destroys! Again! Is it his brains, his braun, or his beauty?”

He dunks you in the cold water, wiping your wet face sympathetically when he pulls you up.

“This is totally rigged!” He swirls you in his arms. Like a trophy. “How am I supposed to win tag against the captain of the swim team?”

He huffs a laugh, warm air smoothing over your cold face.

“You’re supposed to want me to catch you.” He grins, dropping you like he’ll let you dunk again. You shriek, grabbing his arms.

“Do you know how tag works?”

He laughs, shining brightly at you to make up for the lack of light. “You let me win so I can hold you, baby.”

“That’s not tag.”

His smile doesn’t falter. He nods to the deep end, letting your legs drop back to the rough pool floor. “Let’s go again.”

“I’m tired.” Your wet fingers tangle in his equally as wet hair. He leans into the touch. “Let’s go in.”

Those three words are a blow to Steve’s chest. He never gets you out here alone. It’s always stuffed with whiny teens. He doesn’t mind it, usually, but he’d like moment with his girlfriend where Marco Polo isn’t involved.

“Can’t we stay out longer?” He pouts, “we always have to share the pool.”

“It’s midnight.” You drop your hands into the water, bringing them back up to his neck and smiling as he shivers. “And we’re cold.”

He drops his head into your shoulder.

It’d taken no convincing to get you to come out here when you’d seen his red pool shorts, but keeping you in was another issue. The waters were frigid, and he’d had to push you to get in. Another thing he’s, admittedly, not proud of.

“We can get in tomorrow morning,” Your reasoning whispers in his ear. “We can wake up early.”

“You are not waking up early.” He murmurs in your neck.

You smile. “Probably not.”

He groans, and then it’s quiet. You can hear the cicadas in the woods surrounding his home. It’s a cacophony of insects. The water ripples around you, reflecting the moon.

Slowly, more slowly than you’d like, his lips find home planted on the juncture of your neck, twitching into a smile as you breathe through your nose.

The water sloshes as his hands push you into the pool wall. It’s cold on your skin, tickling your chilly arms.

“Y’so pretty.” He mouths greedily under your jaw.

It’s wet, your hair sticks to the back of your neck, but his hands roam lower and lower, pressing and grabbing needily. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He comes up for air. “Let’s go in.”

“I kinda like it here.” You look down at him.

His swollen lips tease you. Pretty and pink, you want them back on your neck. He knows this, smiling to taunt.

“I like it when I can see you.” His hand slides over your slick belly. You wrap your legs around him.

“You said I was pretty.”

He huffs a laugh. “I don’t need to see you to know that.” His finger pinches the fat of your thigh. “Prettiest girl in the whole world.”

Your stomach flips, a funny smile coming to your warm face. “Carry me.”

His lips are soft as they work their way back to your neck. They leave a trail of spit over your wet skin, you sigh as a breeze flutters past you. Languid with his kisses, he moves back up to your mouth, hovering, hot air warming your kiss bitten lips.

“Gonna need you to wrap your arms around me, honey.”

His hands squeeze your thighs.

[missviviii]

I saw your post and could I request a Zayne fluff where he comes home from a tiring work day & us making him a coffee + preparing a warm bath

a/n: ooooh!!! sure!! <3

.

ミ★ Love & Deepspace ミ★

pairing: zayne x reader

warning(s): none

summary: zayne has been so busy lately, and you decided to help him relax after a late night at work with a warm bubbly bath and a cup of coffee with a side of him laying in between your legs with his head stuffed into your chest.

“Best Thing to Come Home to.”

It’s no surprise that Zayne often goes home late and always wake up super duper early. Lately, you’ve been staying at his place since your place needed some of its heating and plumbing fixed and other issues. Very much reluctantly so (actually he agreed quite quickly), he let you stay with him until your place was finished.

You worked as a Hunter, yes, and there were days where you had to pull all-nighters or wake up extremely early for missions, but on the whole, you felt like Zayne had very little time to relax properly. So for today, you decided to pamper him a bit, helping your dear Zayne relax.

Tick Tock the sound of his clock in his office ticked. On it, it read 11:20 pm. Just some minutes away from midnight. Zayne sighs, leaning back in his chair as he takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. Just a few more files, and he’ll be able to go home, maybe even sleep in for an extra few minutes since he actually had some leeway in his schedule tomorrow. He put back on his glasses, continuing to work on those patient files before he turned off the lights in his office then left.

You were in the kitchen, brewing some fresh piping hot coffee for Zayne while you were preparing a small dinner for him. You didn’t really cook often, but sometimes you did when you really felt like it. Zayne had texted you he was heading home in about 20 minutes, and you had already prepared a nice warm bath for him. You were reading the news on your phone when you heard the door open, and a tired voice came out. “I’m home,” Zayne said as he hung up his coat on the coat hanger. His house smelled like freshly brewed coffee. Zayne looked towards the kitchen, where you were just leaving after finishing your hands.

“Hey! Thought I’d make a cup of coffee for you. Also, I prepared you a warm bath upstairs.” You smiled while you leaned against the doorway, watching him look at you in a certain way. Well aren’t you nice today? Not that he didn’t like it… In fact, he very much did like it.

Zayne only hummed as he took off his shoes. “Aren’t you being nice today?” He mused, looking at you with a slight tilt to his head. He leaned in close, closely inspecting your face. “What’s the occasion? I don’t usually return from work to find you being so nice. Perhaps you are sick?” He put his hand up to your forehead, to which you swatted away.

“I’m gonna take back the bath and the coffee if you don’t stop messing with me!” You pouted as you turned your back around and stormed off to the kitchen

Zayne let out a sigh, not a disappointment one, but more of an amused one. He took off his glasses before heading to the bathroom, where you had prepared a bath for him already. “Very nice of you, hm?” He muttered to himself as he closed the door and took off his uniform, slowly sliding himself into the warm water. It smelled like lavender and vanilla, mainly because you had used lavender soap for the bubble bath and had vanilla scented candles all around.

You were laying on the couch and on your phone, texting Tara about your plans to hang out whenever you both are off of work. You didn’t notice Zayne coming down, clad in his comfy pajamas and his black hair messy. Suddenly, you felt someone climbing onto the couch and hovering over you. “Zayne?” You called out as you looked away from your phone, only to find him shifting around and laying in between your legs, head on your chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist. “I made coffee, do you want any?”

“Later. Let me have this for now,” he mumbled as he nuzzled his face closer against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed your hands running through his hair. You were like a personal heater, your body warmer compared to his. And he lived for the cuddles and hugs you provided. “Just another minute with you, my love.”

[rottenpumpkin13]

Shinra Floor New Year’s party from hell pretty plz? 🥺

The New Year's Resolution Challenge

• Sephiroth and Genesis arrive at the ballroom. Both of them are dressed in the exact same blue suit.

Sephiroth: Happy new year, director.

• Lazard doesn't reply. He takes one look at them, spits out his drink and starts laughing.

Genesis: Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. We didn't coordinate this, you know!

Lazard: You look like two penguins—

Sephiroth: We coincidentally had the same suit and chose to wear it tonight.

Genesis: And we could not decide who got to wear it, so we gave up trying to settle the issue.

• Rufus Shinra walks by also wearing the same suit. Lazard absolutely loses his shit.

• Reno and Rude swing by, both with cameras and starts taking pictures of the trio. The camera flash is so strong, Sephiroth is blinded and topples onto Genesis. The two start squabbling on the floor. Reno takes more pictures.

• Lazard watches all of this go down. He looks at his drink sadly.

Lazard: I'm going to need something stronger.

• Later, Zack and Angeal are arguing as they walk up to the table.

Zack: You're so pessimistic!

Angeal: No, I'm not. I just think making "eat healthier" your new year's resolution when your favorite food is a deep-fried donut bacon sandwich is useless.

Genesis: What are you two on about?

Zack: Angeal doesn't think I can keep my new year's resolution! I want to eat healthier food. *he takes a bite out of his fifteenth slider*

Genesis: And I want a robot who slaps Sephiroth on command. Doesn't look like either of us are getting our wish.

Sephiroth: Zack, if you want to keep your new year's resolution, why don't you start tonight? That way, you can assess how well you'll be able to keep it.

Zack: You know what? You're right! *he throws his slider over his shoulder⏤it hits Heidegger on the back of his head* I'm starting now! From now on, no more junk food! I'm a changed ma⏤wait, look! They just brought out the cake!

Sephiroth: Zackary.

Zack: Fine, fine. You're right! I don't need cake!

Angeal: Actually, that's a great idea. Why don't we all start our new year's resolutions tonight?

Genesis: Oh-ho! Do I hear a challenge? The loser who can't keep his resolution until midnight owes everyone else G$1000.

Angeal: The only reason you're so keen on putting money in this is because you don't have a new year's resolution.

Genesis: How can I be any better than I am now?

*Everyone starts talking over each other giving suggestions*

Genesis: Okay OKAY I get it! Goddess!

Sephiroth: My new year's resolution is to be more approachable and friendlier.

Angeal: Mine is to not get stressed out too easily.

Genesis: And I'll take a vow of silence! One whole night without quoting Loveless nor speaking at all⏤

Sephiroth: FINALLY.

*Everyone looks at him*

Sephiroth: I mean *clears his throat* That sounds like a wonderful idea.

• Later, Zack and Angeal are hanging around the buffet table. Angeal is admiring the fruit display (mostly the pyramid of Banora Whites) while Zack looks longingly at the mini hotdogs.

Angeal: Why don't you have some fruit? Zack: Good idea!

• Zack reaches for one of the dumbapples at the bottom of the pyramid. Immediately the display crumbles and crashes to the ground. Over 100 apples roll around all over the place. Angeal goes red in the face and opens his mouth to scold Zack.

Zack: Ah-ah! You can't get mad at me!

*Angeal's eye twitches*

• Meanwhile, Genesis and Sephiroth are walking around the party. Genesis is silently reading his book, trying his best not to talk. They approach Kunsel and a few other SOLDIERs. Sephiroth grins big and wide.

• The SOLDIERs scream and run away.

Sephiroth: What's wrong with my smile? *Genesis opens his mouth to respond, but then the realization dawns on him. He clamps it shut again*

Sephiroth: Hm. I bet you're dying to make fun of me.

Genesis:

Sephiroth: If only someone would point out every single critical flaw of mine.

*A thick blue vein appears on Genesis's forehead*

• Meanwhile, Lazard is showing Angeal some deep breathing exercises.

Lazard: Relax, inhale. Imagine you're walking on a beach...

• A football flies in out of nowhere and hits Angeal in the face, knocking him down. Kunsel rushes up to him.

Kunsel: Apologies! Me and the guys were messing around!

Angeal: *eye twitching* It is fine.

Kunsel: You're blue.

Angeal: IT IS FINE.

• Meanwhile, Zack is watching Reno load up his plate with steak, fries and fried chicken. He's salivating.

Reno: Dude, one slice of pizza won't kill you. It's all about moderation.

Zack: No way! I'm a changed man. I don't need all that heart-attack food to be happy.

*Reno takes a bite out of a chicken wing*

*Zack immediately starts sobbing*

• Meanwhile, Sephiroth and Genesis are back at their table. Sephiroth has Genesis's copy of Loveless in hand and is reciting it wrong on purpose. Genesis is slamming his head on the table.

Sephiroth: Hath the shattered dreams of the morrow.

*BANG*

Sephiroth: Wings are lost, dreams stripped away.

*BANG*

Sephiroth: Mystery in infinite is the goddess of the gift.

*BANG*

Sephiroth: Two friends go into battle. Three of them die.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

• Meanwhile, Angeal is under a table meditating. There's ten minutes to go until midnight. He just has to last ten more minutes.

• Suddenly, there's a commotion outside. Angeal slips his head out to see that Zack has attacked president Shinra. Apparently, the president had a 20lb lobster delivered to his table and Zack went feral. Four turks are trying and failing to pull Zack away from the lobster meat on the president's plate.

• Zack has failed his new year's resolution.

• Angeal rushes out. "I TOLD YOU YOU COULDN'T DO IT! LET GO⏤LET GO OF THE MAN'S LOBSTER, ZACK! ARE YOU GROWLING AT ME!? THAT'S IT *He slips his shoe off to use it as a weapon*

• Angeal has failed his new year's resolution.

• Meanwhile, Sephiroth and Genesis approach Tseng and Rufus. Sephiroth is smiling.

Sephiroth: Good evening, gentlemen. I hope you're having a wonderful new year's eve. How are you both?

Tseng: I'm well, Sephiroth, thank you. You're being awfully sociable,

Sephiroth: It's my new year's resolution.

Tseng: You're doing a good job!

• Rufus notices Genesis's silence.

Rufus: What about you, Rhapsodos? What's your goal for the new year?

Genesis:

Rufus: Do you understand my question?

Genesis:

Rufus: Oh, have I upset you? Are you mad at me?

Sephiroth: Genesis is just shy because he has feelings for you.

*Genesis snaps his head towards him, then looks at Rufus, shaking his head violently*

Rufus: ....Is that so?

Sephiroth: Oh, yes. He's just gone on and on about how attractive and charming he finds you.

Rufus: I had no idea you felt like this, Commander.

*Genesis is glaring at Sephiroth. If looks could kill, Sephiroth would be slaughtered*

Rufus: You don't need to be shy around me, Genesis. We can talk about this like men.

Sephiroth: That would be hard to do. Genesis claims to feel emasculated around me. It appears that my⏤quote⏤strong, unyielding masculine energy provokes his inferiority complex.

*Genesis is turning purple*

Tseng: There's nothing to be ashamed of, Genesis. We all have our flaws, you especially.

• Genesis inhales.

Genesis: THAT'S IT! I DON'T NEED THIS! I DON'T NEED THIS AT ALL. I'LL PAY YOU EACH 1000 GIL! HECK, I'LL PAY YOU 10,000 GIL EACH IF IT MEANS I'LL NEVER HAVE TO GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN!

*he turns to Tseng*

Genesis: HOW DARE YOU CLAIM I HAVE FLAWS. MY FLAWS ARE MY BUSINESS, YOU INSUFFERABLE LAP-DOG!

*he turns to Rufus*

Genesis: AND PLEASE! I AM SO OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE! HOW DARE YOU BELIEVE ALL THAT RUBBISH! THE ONLY FEELINGS I HARBOR FOR YOU, RUFUS, ARE CONTEMPT AND PITY!

*he turns to Sephiroth*

Genesis: WHENEVER YOU SMILE, YOU LOOK LIKE THE SHARK FROM FINDING NEMO!

Sephiroth:

Genesis: AND ME, FEEL EMASCULATED AROUND YOU? YOU, WITH YOUR GIRLY HAIR AND QUADRUPLE-D CHEST?? YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR MIND.

Genesis: NOW, IF YOU GENTLEMEN WILL EXCUSE ME, I'M GOING TO GRAB A MICROPHONE, GET UP ON THAT STAGE, AND TALK FOR AN HOUR!

• Genesis stomps off angrily.

Tseng: He needs an exorcism.

Rufus: By the way, Sephiroth, why did you instruct the turks to deliver a 20lb lobster to the president's table?

Tseng: And why did you have me suggest to Angeal that he meditate under the table right across from the president's?

Sephiroth: Because I am a mastermind.

[bullet-prooflove]

"And I told everybody I was fine for a whole damn year" with Scola, please? Obviously make it 2 years

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @district447 @stelacole @abby-splace

Companion piece:

This Ain't Goodbye - Stuart and you make the decision to divorce due to the revelation about his son.

Every Inch Of You (NSFW) - You and Stuart spend the night together after two years apart.

Escapee - You and Stuart are reunited when a face from your past escapes from prison.

It’s past midnight and you’re sitting inside a safe house, deep in the suburbs staring at the Sylvester Stallone’s frozen features on the TV in front of you because you are positive you can hear someone tip toeing in the hallway outside your assigned bedroom.

It’s a second later you hear Stuart’s light rap on the door. It opens to reveal the man himself standing there in a navy blue t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms. You remember the nights where he wore nothing but black Calvin Klein boxers that clung to him in a way that was almost unholy.

Having a son has changed your ex-husband in ways you never could have imagined. After watching his interactions with Jack you can see he’s softer these days, more patient. There’s a joy in him that you know you never could have given him, even if you had stayed together and Jack hadn’t come along.

You expected it to hurt more, being around the two of them but instead of pain you’re plagued by a sense of wistfulness. You made the right decision by leaving. Your guilt and your bitterness over your condition wouldn’t have created a healthy environment for Jack to step into and he needed support at the time, he needed love and stability. You would have only brought turbulence.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask Stuart and he shakes his head as he leans in the doorway, unwillingly to cross some unseen boundary. Even now he’s thinking of you, of the stress this situation must be causing you. “Wanna watch Tulsa King with me?”

“Is it as bad as it sounds?” He asks as he steps over the threshold, watching as you shift the pillows against the headboard for him.

“It’s pretty fun.” You tell him, resetting the series to the first episode.

“Under the sheets?” He questions, gesturing at the quilt. “Or over?”

You know what he’s really asking.

Do you want me close? Or do you need space?

“I don��t mind.” You tell him honestly.

He climbs under the sheets with you, his shoulder bumping against yours and you’re taken back to last night, the two of you tangled up in one another in a hotel room before he’d received that phone call telling him he needed to leave. You know he must be thinking about it too from the way he unconsciously plays with his ring finger.

“It doesn’t hurt-” You find yourself saying into the space between you. “-seeing you with Jack. I thought it would but it doesn’t.”

“I worried.” He admits, tilting his head so he can study your features. “About what it would do to you being cooped up like this with us. I half expected to find you climbing out the window because you couldn’t take it anymore.”

You laugh then because it’s certainly something you would have considered in the past.

“The old Sasha definitely would have.” You tell him the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile. “But this Sasha, the one that’s had time and therapy to deal with her issues, not so much. Besides I’m getting too old to shimmy down drainpipes.”

It’s his turn to laugh and you’ve forgotten just how much you love that sound.

“Did it help?” He asks you, rolling into his side and you mirror his posture so the two of you are face to face. “Taking some space, getting some distance?”

“It did.” You tell him as you prop you head up on the pillow. “I wasn’t as focused on the problem, I could look at it objectively in a way I couldn’t when I was here in New York.”

Stuart nods his head in understanding, before he reaches out and tucks an errant strand of hair back behind your ear.

“I’ve told everyone that I was fine for the past two years.” He tells you, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek. “And then you walked back into my life and I realised I wasn’t, not really. I was just existing but I wasn’t actually living. I was just being what he needed because I had to be, my life became about him because the rest of it… it’s empty.”

You understand exactly what he means. You’ve enjoyed every single one of your new experiences over the past few years but there’s still this void inside of you, this space that can only be filled by the man who lies across from you.

“I’m back in New York now.” You tell him, your lips brushing over his pulse point as you clasp his palm to your cheek. “They offered me a position setting up a training hub here in the city so maybe we could try again, see where that leads us.”

He smiles then and the expression on his handsome features, it just lights up your entire world even after all these years.

“Oh Sasha.” He whispers as he leans in close, his lips brushing over yours. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

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[lee-laurent]

Happiest With You - Cole Caufield

Summary: In which Odessa and Cole face some struggles along the way in their relationship.

wc: 1.5k

requested by: @ashes2ashesweallfall :)

contents: fluff, angst, character with hearing aids, character that is hard of hearing, kissing(?)

notes: this was a request! and i really hope i did it justice. this is like two mini fics in one! one of my younger siblings is hard of hearing, so i tried my best to use some of my real experiences to write this. enjoy! and send in more requests :))

Cole could hardly be considered a quiet person. In fact, most of his life was spent surrounded by sound. He was the first to end silence, cracking a joke or laughing when things got awkward. He was always the loudest in the room, all eyes being drawn to him. His enthusiasm for life was practically a force of nature. All in all, Cole Caufield was about as loud as they got.

Odessa Williams was the opposite. She found solace in the quiet moments in life. She appreciated the stillness of the early morning, the way the world felt as the sun began to rise. She thrived in the quiet hours of the day, the hum of bugs at night in the summer, the soft patter of rain on the window as she sat on the couch.

Cole and Odessa could not have been more different. Yet, despite the stark differences in their personalities, they found comfort in each other. Their relationship worked because of their contrasting ways of life. Cole's exburence worked in harmony with Odessa's quietude.

But their different approaches to life also brought along some issues. Issues where Odessa felt her need for quiet time wasn't being met.

Cole was sat on the sofa, laughing loudly into his headset as Jack cracked a joke. He was engrossed in his game of NHL 24 with some of the boys from his USNTDP days. The group of boys had been playing for hours, but they were just as vibrant and boisterous as they were when they started.

"Come on, come on! Pass it! Shoot!" Cole shouted, his voice echoing off the walls as his character on screen raced down the ice. His laughs filling the air again as Trevor screamed at Matt. Cheers filled the room as their team finally scored against the opposing team that was probably made up of 15-year-olds.

In the adjacent room, Odessa sat at her desk, surrounded by the quiet calm that she treasured with her whole heart. She had been working on a project for school, her hearing aids sitting on her bed in an attempt to shield her from the noise. But despite her best efforts, the sound seeped through, breaking her concentration and heightening the stress she was feeling.

She glanced at her apple watch. It was past midnight, and she could feel her frustrations bubbling over. She had tried her best to focus on her work, but the escalating noise from Cole's gaming was becoming unbearable.

Unable to concentrate any longer, Odessa stood up and walked into the living room, her patience hanging on by a thread. Cole was deeply engrossed by the game, his face flushed with excitement. His friends were animatedly discussing their plays, their voices rising and falling with excitement through his headset. Odessa's entrance, however, was enough to momentarily break Cole's concentration.

"Cole," Odessa said, her voice strained but firm as she approached him, watching as he pushed the headphones off one of his ears. At the same time, she signed, "Can you turn it down? I'm trying to work."

Cole blinked, momentarily disorientated from the abrupt shift in focus. Trying to follow her hands as she spoke. He looked up at Odessa, noticing the tightness around her eyes and the tension in her posture. He immediately felt a pang of guilt.

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe," Cole said, quickly muting his mic. "I didn't realize how late it was or how loud I was being."

"It's past midnight, Cole! How could you not realize?" Odessa's frustration spilled over, her voice rising as she signed along rapidly. "I've been trying to concentrate, and the noise is just... too much."

Cole's expression hardened slightly, struggling to keep up with her signing. "I'm sorry, Odessa. But you know this is how I unwind. It's just a game. You could've said something earlier instead of letting it build up."

"I didn't want to interrupt you," Odessa shot back, switching to just verbal speech as her signing became more agitated. "But I shouldn't have to compete with your games for some peace and quiet. I have a deadline in two days, and this is really important to me."

"And my downtime isn't important?" Cole scoffed, feeling a twinge of defensiveness. "I work hard too, you know. I need this to blow off steam."

Odessa narrowed her eyes, her frustration evident as she continued to speak to him instead of signing. "I'm not saying your downtime isn't important. But it's like you don't even notice... or care how your noise affects me! You're so wrapped up in your own little world."

Cole sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Fine. What do you want me to do? Stop gaming with my friends? Change who I am to accomodate you?"

"No," she sighed, her voice softer but still tense. She struggled to articulate her feelings through just speech, deciding to sign along. "I just want you to be more considerate. Maybe we can find a middle ground, like schedule it so we both get what we need."

Cole looked at her, the tension in the room still thick, "How about this: I'll turn it down and we can discuss a schedule tomorrow. I don't want to fight, Odessa. I just want us both to be happy, baby."

She nodded, the anger in her eyes dimmed but not gone. "Alright. But we need to seriously discuss this. I can't keep feeling like this."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, "I promise, we'll figure it out. I'm sorry for not noticing earlier."

"Thank you," Odessa nodded, her voice finally calming. "I appreciate that."

"Alright, boys. I gotta go for the night," Cole unmuted, throwing a wink his girlfriend's way. She giggled as they walked back to their room. The promise of a better balance in their future now understood. Cole hopped in the shower while Odessa continued her work, feeling a renewed sense of calm knowing they were both willing to make this work, one compromise at a time.

Although their different dynamics could sometimes create issues, there were the moments where Odessa knew that Cole was the man for her. And the movie night he planned one Friday was one of those moments.

Cole had set up the living room with comfy blankets and pillows, dimmed the lights, and prepared some of his girlfriend's favourite snacks. When Odessa entered the room after her shower, she was greeted by the warm lighting and her boyfriend laying on the couch.

"Hey, baby. I thought we could have a little movie night. I know you've been stressed with school," Cole said, signing the words along with speaking them. Odessa's eyes lit up, appreciating the effort he had put into learning her second language.

She settled onto the couch with him, and Cole handed her the remote. "You get to pick the movie tonight." Odessa chose her favourite move, Jaws, knowing that it had subtitles. She adjusted her hearing aids, ensuring they were comfortable, but knowing she could rely on the subititles if needed.

As the movie started, Cole double-checked that 'English CC' was selected. Throughout the movie, they shared the large bowl of popcorn that the boy had made. Laughing at the horrible special effects and overall just enjoying their time together. Cole squeezed her hand as another shark attack happened, their little touch-based communication conveying his joy.

During a quieter moment in the film, Cole turned to Odessa. He tapped her shoulder lightly, their agreed signal for wanting her attention. "I've been practicing my sign language," he said, signing slowly, "I want to show your family that I'm all in."

Odessa's heart swelled at the confession, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. She responded in sign, "That means a lot to me. Thank you."

Cole grinned so much it was starting to hurt, "How about we practice some?" Odessa nodded enthusiastically. They paused the movie periodically, practicing new words that would show up in the subtitles. Laughing at Cole's mistakes and cheering when he got it right.

At one point, Odessa leaned over and traced a heart on Cole's palm, their special way of saying "I love you" without words. Cole blushed and traced one back on her hand.

As the night progressed, Odessa felt even more connected to Cole. Even more in love with him... if that was possible. The combination of the movie, Cole's efforts to learn sign language, and their special little touches they used to communicate made her feel like they were the only people in the whole world.

"You're getting really good at signing."

"I have the best teacher around," he teased, tracing another heart on her hand.

They sat in silence for a bit, the glow of the TV filling the room. Cole could feel Odessa's breathing slowing as she relaxed against him. He kissed the top of her head, feeling the same way that Odessa had moments before.

Cole carried her back to their room, helping her remove her hearing aids. He plugged them in, giving her one last kiss before climbing into bed next to her. They exchanged tired smiles and with one last squeeze of their hands, Odessa knew that this was the man for her.

[9w1ft]

Hi! I am a news Gaylor/Kaylor and to me- you’re like Wikipedia! I love your analysis and posts and it feels like I will need like 5 years to catch up.

So I wanted to ask you if you could tell me your favourite Karlie coded song of each album and why do you like it that much. English is not my first language and it feels like I miss a lot because of that.

Thank you! Have a lovely day

hi! welcome to my blog and i’m so sorry things are hard to navigate and research, but i hope you have fun!

your question is a fun question! and SO HARD to pick just one from each. SO HARD! (update: its so super hard!! wow!) i truly have multiple favorites for most albums. ultimately i tried to mix it up a little bit and not always just the classics or if i like the beat of the song. it was still so hard! because the last time i counted, for me, there are over 50 kaylor songs now, in my opinion🫶

ok, i will try to write more short explanations but let me know if something doesn’t make sense!

Fearless: Love Story because karlie has said in an interview that it’s her favorite song and because a long long time ago karlie was in a photoshoot that matches the love story mv aesthetic

Speak Now: Enchanted because, whether or not it was written about karlie, taylor went on to mash it up during 1989 era with wildest dreams while wearing a sequin bodysuit with background visuals just like the lover mv fish bowl scene, and i think these visuals are incredibly moving

RED: The Very First Night because i like to imagine it’s about karlie, specifically taylor thinking about all the times in the past that they crossed paths and wishing she could go back in time and confess her feelings to karlie earlier. it’s a sweet song but there is also a quiet sadness that i think matches some of the timing issues they’ve had as soulmates

1989: Style because, after it was recorded in february 2014, it continued on to only become more and more of a kaylor anthem. from taylor walking down the runway at vsfs 2014 hand in hand with karlie to this song, to taylor including it in one of the medleys on rep tour that was so karlie coded (style/love story/you belong with me),

reputation: call it what you want because the song truly sounds like taylor and the background singers and singing “karlie what you want” and “call it what you want, karlie” and i happen to believe that karlie is the one filming taylor in the making of video

Lover: Afterglow because it’s one of the first times we hear taylor apologizing to karlie in her lyrics (i tied your hands behind your back, oh, thought i had reason to attack, but no) and i think it’s one of the key songs to understanding a recurring theme in their relationship and the fact that taylor recognizes it. which i think was powerful to know at the time. made every next album easier to think about.

folklore: the lakes because it is the first time taylor used the word muse to describe karlie. also it was released a little bit after the album came out and a lot of people at the time were saying kaylor had broken up because the album ended on the song hoax, which is a sad song. taylor released the lakes and it re-contextualized the whole album and reset a lot of the conversation that had been going on.

evermore: gold rush because gold was a consistent metaphor we had all ascribed to karlie up until then so it was incredibly wild to have this song happen in the first place, and the song matches up with the beat of runway walking, even the vsfs 2014 opening runway where karlie is a golden angel

(Big Red Machine special mention): Renegade because i see it as a song from karlie’s perspective, about when karlie was there for taylor during her “darkest night” and i find that very touching

Midnights: Karma because it embodies karlie as this unstoppable force that is on taylor’s side and i love that depiction. also, the song name sounds like karlie, taylor arguably sings “karma is my girlfriend” and that was so amazing to pick up on upon the first listen

The Tortured Poets Department: imgonnagetyouback because it ties together so many kaylor themes related to karlie attending eras tour, in particular the bridge (the criminality of “even if it’s handcuffed im leaving here with you” the forgiveness theming of “push the reset button we’re becoming something new” and “bygones will be bygone”the board game theming of “we lost all the pieces but still wanna play the game” the reveal of the truth “told my friends i hate you but i love you just the same” etc) and it gives me an adrenaline kick to listen to it, and gets me nostalgic for attending the 8/3 show, so close to when she attended.

if anyone reading has another favorite to add please add in the comments! i truly have so many that i didn’t cover and i bet you all do too 🫶🫶

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I remembered the song All Dolled Up by theOrionExperience and realised that it's SO Holydust besties coded!! A fun night out to forget their troubles for a few hours and just enjoy each other's company.

You can take this as a writing prompt if you feel like writing about it <33

Indigo (platonic holydust advocate)

As a fellow platonic holydust advocate I'm in! And somehow I made it about Adamsapple angst lol It's my superpower apparently.

Feel free to send more prompts/asks!

"Hey, you wanna go out and get fucked up tonight?" Angel asked Adam as he stood in the sinners doorway.

Oh boy did Adam need some fun. "Fuck yeah, ready when you are."

"Great, let's go." Adam followed Angel out and down to the lobby. He didn't miss the side eye that Angel gave Husk. "We're going out, later."

"Where are you going?" Lucifer asked from his spot on the couch.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Out. Later." He stomped out the front door. "Everything okay with you and whiskers?"

Angel snorted, "I could ask you the same thing about his majesty."

Adam looked away scowling. "Fair enough."

"I'm too sober for this shit, let's get plastered."

Adam and Angel went to a popular club in Hell, where they did shots and drank so much their blood was more alcohol than ichor by midnight.

"Can you believe he said that he wanted to slow shit down? Like shit baby if we go any slower we'll turn into fucking snails! We haven't even fucked yet." Angel drunkenly ranted as he downed another shot.

Adam hummed, taking his own. "At least you don't have everyone making fucking jabs at you about being the King's fucking boy toy. Saying that you're just a royal cock sleeve til his cunt wife comes home."

Angel frowned. "Okay you win. That sounds fucking awful. Who the fuck said that? I'll fuck them up for you!"

Adam laughed. "It's mostly that Bambi motherfucker but he doesn't know shit! What Luci and I have is real!...... I hope." He looked down sadly at the table they were drinking at. Adam felt his lip quiver.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Of course I do! I always have, I don't really believe in all that soulmate bullshit but if I did, I'm pretty sure he'd be mine...... Why else would it hurt this bad? All I ever wanted was for him to love me." Get a few drinks into Adam and he becomes super honest. "I never forgot him. How could I? I tried so fucking hard to hate him Angel, but I can't, not really."

"Well, if he can't wake up and smell the fucking coffee and see how great you are then it's his loss bud. Someone will see it." Angel tried, it was hard to be comforting while half snapped. Sure, him and Husk had issues but they were any sized compared to Adam and Lucifer's drama. Dating a King comes with King sized drama, who knew. "I thought you guys were dating."

"Who fucking knows. Fucker sends so many mixed signals."

"Let's forget about all this shit for now and just have a good time, yeah? We need it." Angel said handing him another shot.

Adam downed it in one go. "Fuck yeah."

By the time they got home to the hotel, it was only Lucifer and Husk still waiting up in the lobby for their boyfriends. Adam and Angel burst through the door laughing and joking.

Adam plopped down on the couch next to Lucifer and Angel was taken to bed by Husk who wished he had breath mints for his baby.

Adam looked at the king. "Heyyyyy.~" He leaned over and poked Lucifer on the cheek. "How you doing?"

"You're fucking drunk as hell."

"Nah uh, you're drunk and short." Adam burst into a fit of laughter at his own joke and Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully.

"Yup, very drunk. Can you even walk?" Lucifer asked as he moved to stand in front of Adam.

Adam picked up his leg and looked down at his foot. He gasped loudly. "Oh my god! I have no toes!" Lucifer had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Apparently drunk Adam forgot he had hooves.

"Those have been there the whole time, Adam."

"And you weren't gonna fucking tell me? Rude." Adam pouted and crossed his arms. He whined when Lucifer picked him up bridal style and held him close. "Hey!"

"Shhh, let's get you to bed." Lucifer thought about placing Adam in his own room, but decided to take him to his instead. Really, he was there so much they might as well just share the damn room.

Adam had taken to playing with Lucifer's bow tie and looking intently at the king. He felt his heart flutter, he loved Luci so much. He wrapped his arms more securely around Lucifer's neck and placed a kiss on his cheek before nuzzling his face into the king's neck breathing in his smell. Brimstone and something more earthy Adam couldn't place.

This surprised Lucifer, Adam wasn't one for gushy feelings or showing of affection. But he'll take what he can get.

Lucifer sat Adam down on the bed and helped him under the covers. Once he was settled, Lucifer got in on the other side. He watched Adam lay there, looking all around until his eyes landed on Lucifer. "Why don't you love me?"

Lucifers eyes went wide. "What are you talking about? I do love you."

Adam sniffed and looked away sadly. "That's not what I hear..."

Lucifer would really rather have this conversation with a sober Adam. "Look, I don't know what people are saying but listen to me when I say this. I love you, Adam. You mean the fucking world to me." He placed his hand on Adams cheek.

"Yeah?" Adam gave him a teary smile.

"Yes." Lucifer kissed him sweetly, he tasted like tequila. "Get some sleep, dove." Adam held out his arms and Lucifer chuckled. Drunk Adam was also very clingy. "Come here, you."

Adam snuggled against Lucifer's chest and sighed happily, he was even happier when he felt a hand in his hair messaging it gently.

Lucifer would have to be sure to show Adam how much he means to him. When he was sober of course.

[true-blue-sonic]

Espilver Week day 3: Food

There's nothing more delectable than a midnight dish of noodles Espio has created for his beloved; if Silver can stay awake long enough to eat it, that is.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Espio is no stranger to getting woken up through people trying to sneak in through his window, strange as that may sound.

Well, it is mostly just one person. Silver, who can fly up to the window with no issue and can open it from the inside on top, knowing perfectly where the hatch is located. Espio’s long gotten used to the soft creaking of the metal and the rustling of the curtains as his beloved enters, the sounds resounding again as the window gets shut once more and a soft, warm body flopping against Espio’s seconds after.

So Espio feels like he cannot be blamed for shooting right up when a thunk! is what reaches his ears this time.

“What the-?” the chameleon whispers. That can’t be Silver, his psychic always enters with infinitely more grace-!

…But the dry “Ouch” that follows from outside is very unmistakeably his beloved, who comes all but tumbling right inside the moment the hatch gets unlocked.

With a gasp Espio shoots right up, covers torn off and feet thundering towards the other before he even realises. “Silver!”

“Hey, Espio,” gets purred at him from the ground. “What’s up?”

“What in the world are you doing?!” Grasping the other under his armpits Espio drags him upright… before wincing at how Silver’s whole body lolls to the side. A huge yawn follows, as does a twitching little nose nuzzling Espio over his cheek.

“Tryin’ to enter your room quietly.”

“Well, that failed. Tenshi, you look exhausted,” Espio decrees, scrutinising his beloved down to every quill. Silver’s eyes are half-lidded, purple bags clearly visible underneath them… Hmm. Not exactly what the chameleon would have expected to happen after a day spent with Sonic, as Silver had told him this morning before leaving, and Espio frowns as he draws his thumbs over the other’s muzzle. “What in the world have you and Sonic been up to?!”

“We had a brawl, I lost, Sonic told me to take it easy, I didn’t, we had another brawl, I won, then Eggman appeared, then we had to chase after him and his robots, then Tails got in trouble with the Tornado and I had to bail him out there, then Sonic and Eggman started bickering, then I came in with my powers and it was very epic, then we fought him some more before he got defeated, then it was already really late so we went to Tails’ place to patch up, then Sonic and I brawled again, which we both lost, and then I decided I wanted to go home,” gets very deftly summarised.

Eyebrow raising ever so incredulously at this tale the chameleon hums. “In the middle of the night?”

“If I had to spend one more second near Sonic, I’d have throttled him.”

“Ah,” Espio smiles.

“Not to be mean or anything.”

“No, I understand.” Lovingly Espio wraps his arms around his psychic, smiling at how Silver’s head lolls against his shoulder. “Tenshi, can you go to sleep like this?”

A content little purr reverberates against his chest. “Of course.”

That is no lie, Espio knows. He’s seen Silver zonk out in the weirdest places and the oddest circumstances; his beloved’s sleeping schedule seems to be to either not rest for three days straight or to decide to get some shut-eye whenever, wherever. But that does mean Silver occasionally wakes up even more groggy and disoriented than before his rest. And Espio knows what the culprits for that tend to be… “Are you fed and hydrated?” he brings up, and promptly Silver’s ears flop themselves against his scalp very innocently.

“No.”

“When’s the last time you had either?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Silver,” the chameleon scolds with a warm smile, hand running over the other’s stomach that he is certain is rumbling just a bit. That simply won’t do: after hours of running around madly and foiling ploys and trying not to throttle annoying speedsters, one simply must refresh body and mind. And thus Espio pushes himself to his feet, Silver snuggled in his arms.

“Are we going to the kitchen?” gets sleepily inquired, Espio nodding.

“Yes. What would you like to have?”

“What can you make me?”

“Anything you want,” the chameleon assures, Silver’s body warm against his. A quiet little chuckle follows at that, thought Espio presses his horn tenderly against the other’s forehead to warn him to be quiet as he pushes open the door to the upstairs hallway. Vector’s loud snores that always make the hallway rumble create the perfect backdrop to sneak unnoticed to the stairs and down to the living room. “Made it,” the chameleon adds, smiling at the sluggish sparks of cyan taking shape to help him shut the door there slowly and block out the house-shaking rumbles from upstairs. This night is for him and Silver; no interruptions from his colleagues are allowed.

Silver for his part yawns elaborately. “Can we make noodles?”

“I will make noodles. You are going to sit and rest.”

“Lame,” Espio’s beloved mutters like a toddler, a droopy, exhausted toddler who is seconds away from falling right asleep as the chameleon places him onto a chair. Carefully he rearranges Silver’s head to lay on his arms, scratching behind his ears and grinning at the more content purr that elicits. Silver will have to drink something first, Espio figures, and thus a glass of water is quickly grabbed and filled. “Thanks,” the other adds as Espio helps him take a few sips. “Can I really not help with anything?”

“It is unneeded, my love. Stay,” Espio orders warmly, turning away to the stove with a final caress over his beloved’s head. If he’s quick he can turn off the kettle without waking the whole house, and that will spare him time with heating up the dinky old stove, and then Silver will get his food more quickly. Like a true, focused, goal-oriented ninja Espio gets to work: some noodles are retrieved from their hiding spot in the box of dry crackers both Vector and Charmy hate, and in mere minutes they’re boiling away in the pan. With some soy sauce and a few withering vegetables Espio does his best to breathe some new life in, he’s got the perfect dish for his psychic to enjoy: a delectable smell wafts up from them, so tasty it makes even Espio's mouth water...!

“Tenshi,” Espio whispers as he rolls the last of the noodles onto a plate, “your food is ready.”

The quietest of snores is his response.

“Silver,” the chameleon chuckles, leaning over to his beloved half-sprawled out on the table. The other’s head is smushed against his arms, chest falling and rising so very slowly and what little Espio can see of his eyes shut tight…

Fast asleep, and most adorable.

Oh dear, Espio smiles with no small amount of amusement. Silver won’t be eating any noodles like this, that is certain. “It seems I was not quick enough. This is a disgrace,” he decrees with a chuckle; he’s been in worse disgraces in his life than not making his sweetheart a meal in time. Perhaps the odds were even slightly stacked against him, considering Silver has been asleep on his feet the moment he’d ambled through Espio’s window already. That just leaves him a delicious noodle dish for tomorrow, then. And plenty of cuddles to be given right now.

“Perhaps next time I’ll wait for you in the kitchen so you can enter through the back door like a normal person and not run into my window,” the chameleon adds as his beloved almost seems to huff back playfully in his sleep, the duo settling on the couch with Silver in Espio’s arms, and Espio makes sure to request some extra snuggles the next day when Silver devours his noodles in mere seconds.

But the best reward is the delight on Silver’s face and the fact he leaves half a plate for Espio to enjoy too, to nibble on with his beloved by his side.

@espilver-week ^-^

[wildpeachfarm]

See the thing is with streaming its going to die regardless, yes companies handing out less contracts is killing it further but its already dying at a fast rate? I'm not a stream hater either btw I really enjoy them but like. For example. 2020, 2021? When school was remote and I only ever worked mornings because of covid hours? I was clocked into that Philza 8hr stream DAILY. I was scheduling my classes around those streams so I could do homework while listening/watching. Went as far as to use my monthly speaking privilge to ask Phil what date British Daylight Savings began so I could keep my schedule clear. The second everything was no longer remote, and store hours went back to normal, I maybe caught 2, 3, maybe 4 streams in that year before I decided enough was enough about QSMP and I LOVE hardcore content.

From a company standpoint I can see why YT may not be interested in handing out streamer contracts anymore. Like Dreamie and a few others they're recognizing the Covid Number Boom is over- but unlike Dreamie, because theyre a corporation, they can't just "stick it out" and "recelebrate milestones". They have a "bottom line" to protect and they're not getting that same sweet sweet ad revenue from streams because of decreased viewer counts. Esp bc people don't just go back and watch vods unless there's a REAAAALLY good reason to. So no ad viewership there either. They're going to go back to relying on videos (and unfortunately probably shorts as well, I hate the tiktok-ification of every socmed site) to keep their ad revenue up, especially with the battle of ad blockers. I see more ad and monitization deals being handed out.

With streams (bc vod watching is lowkey practically nonexistant) not being in high demand bc of time constraints (happening while busy, timezones issues) the demands for videos will be higher as videos are ALWAYS readily available. Someone uploads at midnight your timezone? I mean it'll be there when you wake up, you won't have "missed" anything like you would have a livestream. Get a video schedule set out and you're GOLDEN- the first thing I do when I get home from work is check if a handful of youtubers have uploaded to put on to watch. If not, I rewatch some of my fav vids.

Also psychologically I actually think this is for the better of all CCs as a whole. Streaming, esp for some of the hourly requirements some of these ppl either HAVE to hit to get paid or WILLINGLY put themselves through (Tubbo) you have to wear your persona the ENTIRE time. You have to make sure you don't slip up that ENTIRE time. You have to be entertaining the ENTIRE time. You have to filter yourself because it's all live. To me this just sounds like what I do on a daily basis masking my audHD and that shit is so tiring and it's why I could NEVER be a streamer. If you're recording videos you can control what goes out. You don't have to wear whatever persona you decide to put on for 8hrs for a stream, you can record 3 hours of footage and then be done for the day, and that can either be one video or multiple depending on a lot of factors. Accidentally say your mom's name? Cut the clip. Bit isn't funny? Cut the clip. They will still have to actively filter themselves yes but for a much less amount of time. In the end CCs will have a lot more mind power that they're not using up to take care of themselves. I genuinely think it's psychologically better for them all.

It's unfortunate that the streaming industry is going to collapse this way. But also seeing how the communities heavily affected by streaming are more drama filled than communities w/o streaming, I'm lowkey hoping it's for the best. Pulling the plug like this imo is a mercy kill.

And now I'm gonna wash my mouth out for all that corporate speak I just used. Sorry for the manifesto. And if someone wants to put this manifesto on reddit idc just crop/block any usernames IG

I appreciate the essay-andy-ing these are interesting thoughts! I don't think the streaming scene will collapse entirely but I do think that it will become more advantageous to be a youtuber because people have found that to be the most consistent for many years as a CC rather than streams which require a lot of additional things (like you mentioned)

And I feel like we are seeing quite a few people say they're going to prioritize youtube more in the future which seems to be the beginning of that transition

I am curious if twitch will ever try to keep certain big-viewer streamers on the platform with 'kick-style' ($$$$) contracts.

[midnightsun-if]

Sorry if this sounds rude, but I have some things I need to get off my chest. Frankly, the whole Scarlett situation kind of sucks, and the way you’re handling things is not exactly helping matters. I get you have a specific vision for her character, and as a fellow author I would never suggest you compromise that to appease a bunch of sexist, entitled fans, but you’ve given so much attention to her character that it honestly comes as no surprise that people wouldn’t respect her sexuality, as bad as that is to say.

I’ve personally sent numerous asks in the past, and you haven’t answered a single one, so either you’re intentionally ignoring them, or tumblr ate them. If it’s the later, then I’m sorry for accusing you. You’re obviously not under any obligation to answer asks you don’t want to, but I admit it does sting a bit to see Scarlet Ask #523759690 on my feed when I have yet to see a single one of mine. You may not think you have a favorite character, but from an outside perspective, you 100% do.

The amount of attention Scarlett receives compared to the rest of the cast (seriously, when was the last time Caden got an ask dedicated to them?) is truly astounding. Fans will naturally have their favorites, but as an author you should remain impartial… which you really haven’t. In fact, it seems like you actively encourage the Scarlett attention. It’s like you keep showing off a fancy car that only a few people can actually buy, then get upset when people complain they can’t buy the car as well.

Anyways, I’m sorry for this rant, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I wish you luck on your writing journey, and hope you have a happy holiday (if you’re in a country that celebrates any upcoming holidays)!

I truly don’t know what to say other than the fact that I haven’t seen your asks and that I’m trying to avoid Scarlett asks when it specifically involves the discourse with her sexuality— which also may contribute to the possibility on why I haven’t seen them, if that’s what they involved— as I mentioned in my one-and-done post about it… I don’t want to keep this as a reoccurring theme on the blog as I know that many people will grow tired of it just like I have.

I answer Scarlett centric asks, barring when I answer scenario asks about the family and/or the ROs, mainly due to the fact that she’s the one people single out— if someone sends me an ask about C, or Blake, or anyone else, I’ll answer it… It just happens to be that Scarlett gets the most asks when it comes to that sort of thing— and those asks are typically much easier/faster to answer than the all-in-one asks— I’d be more than happy to answer singular asks about any number of my characters. And I have in the past when someone sends something in.

All I can truly say? If not being able to romance Scarlett is this big of an issue, and I truly am saying this as nicely as I can… I don’t think Midnight Sun is the right IF for you. I believe I know a couple more IFs with an Ice Queen type RO, or adjacent RO, that may suit you better if you’d like to me share them!

And, I’d just like to make this small point, I get upset, or am starting to, because it’s a point I’ve brought up over and over again— Scarlett isn’t a lesbian to create an inconvenience for the player… She’s a lesbian because it’s part of who she is. Sending me asks saying “I can change her” or “Give us Scarlett and the F!MCs Koda” (among other things) is absolutely abhorrent in the best case scenario. There are 7 other ROs for you to choose from— all of which offer their own unique routes and experiences within Midnight Sun.

Scarlett isn’t changing, I’m standing firm with this. I’m not going to ever change my mind about it— I’m sorry if that upsets anyone, but it’s not something I’m backing down on.

[nortism]

doctor who liveblog pt 22

s4 ep10 midnight

- i’m glad donna’s getting a nice holiday

- COLIN MORGAN OF BBC MERLIN FAME??! katie mcgrath next pls

- “ladies and gentlemen and variations thereupon”

- ROSE ON THE TVVVVVVV

- oh god was she possessed

- FUCK SHES REPEATING LIKE THE THING OUTSIDE

- SHE GOT HIS VOICE

- that was such a good episode, genuinely unsettling

s4 ep11 turn left

- omg are we in a country that’s not the uk?? i didn’t know the tardis knew how to do that 😭😭

- oh never mind they’re on a different planet, should have known

- and billie piper!!

- oh the doctor’s dead

- get the screwdriver donna!!

- ROSE TYLER!!!!!!!!!!

- oh she’s vanished

- donna’s so funny

- NO MARTHA’S DEAD this sucks

- SARAH JANE SMITH’S DEAD?!?! this au is awful

- ROSE

- i love donna’s grandad so much it’s not even funny

- london’s gone??? thank god the world is free!

- not leeds

- uh oh america

- ROSE

- oh fuck jack as well

- oh great, now the uk is turning into nazi germany

- that’s a big old bug

- rip alternate universe donna

- BAD WOLF?!?!?!!????

- shitttttt

s4 ep12 the stolen earth

- oh fucj the earth’s gone

- MARTHA

- ohh fuck the companions r all gonna come together

- ROSE WITH A GIANT GUN WOOOO

- oh yeah the whole gang in the opening credits

- oh great we’re gonna find out what a shadow proclamation is

- ofc the british are celebrating the end of the world by drinking and rioting

- ofc it’s the fucking daleks

- i feel like there was easy ways to exterminate the human race i won’t lie

- the crucible?? always with the religious imagery

- idk if i trust the space cops

- not the rhinos again

- ohhhh they’re building a mega planet

- for what it’s worth, i trust martha to save the world. she’s done it before

- NO MARTHA

- the loss that is yet to come???

- also which god??

- BEES ARE ALIENS?!?!

- i knew i couldn’t trust the space cops

- ROSE

- when he was a 90 year old teenage girl

- HARRIET JONES MY LOVE

- yay martha’s alive

- aww rose is jealous

- is everyone here a jones?

- HARRIET NOOOOOO

- he’s still thinking about rose 😭😭

- jfc what is that

- ewww

- FUCKING DALEKS RUINING MY REUNION

- oh my polycule did reunite, just under the worst circumstances possible

- FUCK HES REGENERATING ALREADY

- noooo sarah jane

- whatttt

s4 ep13 journey’s end

- did he just regenerate back into david tennant???

- MICKEYYYYYYYYY

- JACKIEEEEEEEE

- oh the whole gang is back together i missed them 😭😭😭

- oh donna i love u

- they gotta stop leaving the tardis lying around!!!

- that’s nice of the daleks to translate for different countries

- that’s a lotta daleks

- donna?!!

- DONNA?!?!!??

- hello is donna regenerating?!?!

- ITS ANOTHER DOCTOR?!?!?

- dw rose this is just an avg day for jack

- nah is the new doctor technically donna and the doctor’s child???

- pls leave my girl and her mummy issues alone

- oh they’re soulmates

- when did martha learn german??

- oh yeah on her world tour

- it would be cool if they subtitled the german bc i’m getting none of this

- not loving the sound of a reality bomb

- omg they’re disintegrating

- oh so we’re destroying all matter now???

- won’t this also destroy the daleks??

- apparently not

- SHES GONNA BLOW UP THE EARTH

- oh fuck the whole gang’s been teleported

- it’s up to u now donna

- uh oh rip the other doctor

- uh oh rip donna

- this is a bit awkward

- YES FHEN DONNA

- the doctordonna

- SHES PART TIMELORD?!

- they oppenheimer-ed him

- K9!!!

- finally an explanation for why he sucks a flying the tardis so much, he needs more guys

- he’s got the biggest family on earth 😭😭

- she’s getting her own doctor?!

- aww she got her kiss?? i think aww?! this is a weird situation all round

- oh no donna’s malfunctioning

- wait what

- is she fucking dead

- HER MIND’S BEEN WIPED!!?!?!

- awww she’s forgotten him

- this is so sad

- aww granddad

- jesus that was bleak