#my sister died lol

[haztory]

[Rain, for good luck.]

⤷ johnny "soap" mactavish x f!reader; wedding fluff (w.c 1.5k)

a.n: i cannot stop thinking about a wedding with johnny. here you go

It’s a simple affair, probably at your own insistence, probably in theme considering the equally simple proposal. A presentation of a ring on an early Tuesday morning in your kitchen, your hair messy, sleep still on your breath as you brew two cups of coffee for you and him. He’s on his knee, then. Smiling wide in his sleep shorts, more sure of this than he could have ever been sure of anything. 

The notice of marriage is sent to the registrar that week, a date for your elopement picked for six months later. 

You’re able to squeeze a booking for a country estate beside a lake and it's perfect. Only immediate family and a few of your closest friends are in attendance, the same for Johnny. Your friends bunking in rooms together with his friends, your families closer than they have ever been before, laughter filling the estate as they all come to celebrate the weekend of your wedding. The smile never ceases from Johnny’s face and despite the chaos that comes with the whirlwind decision to get married (and the endless teasing accusations of a hidden pregnancy, of which you vehemently deny and he seems to smugly not deny), Johnny has never looked more content. 

The day of is an exciting blur, beautiful nonetheless. Cloudy, but the sun beams brightly behind them as a slow breeze sways through the estate. You awake in your bridal suite alone until you’re quickly joined by the number of women who flit and bounce through your room in elation. Your bridal party fusses over your makeup, adjusting pieces of your hair lightly to fit the style you want, crying tears of joy all the while. Your dress lays elegantly pressed in its protective sleeve on the neatly made bed, your shoes sitting beside it. 

It’s a snapshot of a moment, delight tangible and permeating. It breathes through the room, light and airy, the anticipation of it—of marrying him— an addictive high that you inhale with deep breaths and hold steady within the locket of your heart. Your dress sits, almost beckoning you into its awaiting caress; Into the future that waits for you in the love and embrace of the man who could hardly delay until dawn broke before asking you to be his forever. You reach for it, letting the long awaited hold consume you—it’s a sweet and dreamy becoming. The softness of the built love enveloping you in the tendrils of its blossoming, and your mother remarks with a teary smile that you are glowing.

You’re walking down the aisle an hour later. Johnny stands at the end, dressed in the ceremonial regimental uniform, and the smile—the same smile that’s been plastered on his face the whole weekend since you arrived at the estate, the same smile that greets you every morning and night—falters in place when his eyes land on yours. It turns watery, and the breath that he takes upon seeing you is heavy. He’s quick to wipe his eyes with his thumb, but you see it even from the distance. 

You’re married soon thereafter. Pledges exchanged, vows uttered sacredly to one another as only those who matter look on you. Even then, it feels like it’s just you two; You and Johnny standing beside the lake as nature sings her blessing into the union, and grants permission for man to kiss his bride. And you’ve kissed Johnny before, many times before, and yet, this one is different. It stills earth and life to this moment; all that could be transforming holy within the second, transcending beyond this plane of existence and into the next. A formidable, stilling, precious moment. 

You become his, he becomes yours. Forever. 

Even when a light drizzle of rain falls upon you in the seal of the kiss, the sky turning a darkening gray in a split second, nothing tramples the becoming. As rain falls harder and your guests run back into the stone house with screeches of shock and surprise on their tongues, you and Johnny fall into a suspended laugh. 

“We should go with them.” You tell your husband—husband— as your veil sticks to you like second skin now from the wet and the point in your heels begins to sink into the mud of the grass. 

“Let’s stay out here.” He tells you, one arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him, the other hand cupping the side of your face. Droplets drip down his nose in the downpour, but the grin grows even wider as he leans forward for another kiss, “I wan’ tae enjoy my wife.”

Shared kisses turn feverish in a slow burn, Johnny pulling more and more from the depths of you as his hold tightens and you both stand alone to bask in the luck of your joy. Eternity could be spent out here, and you suppose maybe that’s what marriage is all about. Only when you are called inside by your respective families—”Get oot o’ the rain, ye eejit lovebirds!” His sister had yelled— do you return to the realm of mortals, of simple reality. 

Singing, and dancing, and speeches, drinks spilled and stomachs clenching in on themselves as full bellied laughter turns to painful wheezing. Johnny’s sisters crowd around you, blubbering at how grateful that their bawbag of a brother caught someone like ye, your parents charmed evermore as Johnny sits beside them and talks their ears off about the the history of this particular part of the country, and you catch from the corner of your eye two shared friends of yours finally making their move on one another. Caught in the wistfulness of romance, they lean close to one another and you make a mental note to tell Johnny that he now owes you ten foot massages.

The reception is the gateway to the rest of your life—and it's wonderful.

The party goes well into the night and when you return to your bridal suite, Johnny is in tow. Your heels are held in his hand and his suit jacket is draped over your shoulders. Giggles peter out into tired sighs and he flops onto your bed with little reservation when you open the door. 

“We should consummate.” He mutters to the ceiling, eyes closed as you unlace his dress shoes and tug them off. He heaves a great breath of relief when they’re off of his feet, “Lemme make a real woman out o’ ye.”

“How romantic.” You laugh, tossing his shoes to the side before falling on top of him, nuzzling your own tired head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the faded scent of his cologne and the warmth of his own musk. His hand caresses your back, following a familiar pattern of tracing onto your spine. “Think I was already a real woman before you met me, though.”

“Aye, ‘s probably why I liked ye so much.”

You hum amusedly and sweet silence befalls the two of you. Slow breaths of honeyed happiness that dips into the steady cadence of welcome sleep. You’re halfway to dozing off entirely when he pats you gently, whispering about a bath. He takes the lead, unzipping your dress and laying it with considerable care on the bed before drawing yourself and him into the shower. He washes you both as you lean against him, the warm spray and the soothing strokes of his hands on your neck, your shoulders, your back, lull you deeper into him, deeper into the embrace of sleep.

You awake the next morning to the filtered light of gentle sunlight in your eyes. It’s hard to fight the stickiness of slumber, especially since you know that you have nothing pressing on the agenda for today—but in the stretch of your body against the sheets warmed with rest, your foot touches that of another; And you realize, you haven’t woken up alone this time. 

Your husband—husband!—sleeps soundly beside you; His hair is pulled in tufts that you know he’ll soon shave back to his signature mohawk come deployment time, deep breaths exhale from his slightly open mouth, the sheets tangled between his legs as one rests in the cool air of the room and the other lies next to yours underneath the duvet. 

It’s quiet in the estate, hardly anyone awake or moving just yet as you sit up in your bed, surveying the state of the room in the glow of a peaceful morning. Johnny’s suit is crumpled by the bathroom floor, your bouquet and other gifted flowers decorate the surfaces around the suite, and your dress lays worn and loved at the foot of the bed, white chiffon spilling over his exposed foot and onto the footbed. 

This is the rest of your life. An eventful night; a romantic sight. Youthful longing and late-night fantasies suddenly forgotten worries as they are fulfilled in this moment alone.

You fall back into the bed, attaching yourself into Johnny’s side and breathing him in. 

“Still need to make an honest woman o’ ye, Mrs. MacTavish.” A glance upward reveals that his eyes are still closed. You fix yourself into him deeper, wrapping your arm around his bare chest as you lay your head against him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in tighter. 

“‘m counting on it, Mr. MacTavish.”

He smiles and you both return to the homecoming of sleep as rain begins to tap gently on the windows of your life together.

(Rain, for good luck.) 

[sqtorux]

wheweweww deep breaths, sobs, hiccups , tears and snot

[sisterdivinium]

What?

[miss-eli-starfleet]

I like how WestAllen ended in the Flash with Nora's birth. The part where they're holding hands right before her birth and yellow and purple lightning zaps between them is done really well... Now, I don't particularly ship SnowBarry, but I do find the idea cute sometimes because of the Frost sisters, and how well done the writers wrote her scripts. I'm gonna disregard the whole Khione thing in my comparison of both ships which is canon WestAllen and AU SnowBarry from my perspective.

In a SnowBarry AU, Caitlin would be Barry’s “lightning rod”.

Barry would've been married to OG Caitlin (if you know what I mean) by the time they split in S6. At least following the timeline of how WestAllen generally progressed throughout the show. Like, as in, Barry's proposal of "Running Home to You" would be directed towards Caitlin instead of Iris in S3, SnowBarry marriage in S4, etc etc... Maybe it would be Caitlin SnowAllen if they decide to hyphenate?

Anyways, AU SnowBarry or canon WestAllen, I do wish they gave Caitlin/Frost more screentime especially after they split in S6. I would take the Frost sisters in a heartbeat instead of Cecile or Allegra.

S2 Barry and Jay would be “fighting” over Caitlin lol. Or maybe not. But he would be hella protective when Zoom kidnaps her.

In S3, Caitlin turned Killer Frost does end up working with Savitar.. imagine just how desperate Barry would be to keep her from going all "Frosty" because Caitlin is his fiancee, just as desperate as he was with trying to save Iris from Savitar in canon. I think instead of the focus on Iris, a majority of SnowBarry AU’s base plot line would include Barry trying to save Caitlin from her evil self? Like in that one episode where he spoke to Frost, and allowed her to try to kill him because he knows she’s still Caitlin deep down. OR it could be both: Savitar’s tryna kill her because she’s Barry’s “lightning rod” in this SnowBarry AU instead of them joining up.

Let’s say Barry still goes into the Speedforce in this SnowBary AU. Her heartbreak would be another catalyst/reason as to why Caitlin turned into her Frosty self between S3 and S4 to work for Amunet. In canon 4x01, Killer Frost does come back to the team as Caitlin to help Barry come out of the Speedforce so don't gotta "AU" that part. I know they "balanced out" the whole Caitlin/Frost thing in S4, and that was awesome to watch.

Loved the cuteness where “Caity” and Frost would communicate with each other in little sticky notes. Since Barry and Caitlin would be married by that time, maybe Frost writes sticky notes to Barry too?

Moving onto S5.. How would it go with Caitlin raising Nora alone in the future? Caitlin is a geneticist/doctor whereas Iris is a news reporter.. I think with Caitlin’s doctor/biochemist, I don't think she'd put a power dampening chip inside Nora. Nora would have Frost (split or not) to protect/guide her as well as the rest of the team. Maybe in SnowBarry S5, Nora would've grown up knowing that her father is the Flash from the start. 5x18 would've shown Caitlin and Nora having a better mother-daughter relationship than 5x18 canon Iris and Nora. Would she still go to Thawne then? Maybe so because of godspeed and he’s the only other speedster around and then after what happened to Lia? Maybe so.

Since Nora still wouldn’t have ever met Barry, Thawne could’ve still manipulated her with the whole Cicada dagger thing so she travels back in time. One thing for sure: she wouldn’t be all pissy towards Iris lol. But my poor girl Nora would’ve still vanished in S5 finale :(

When Caitlin splits in S6, imagine how happy Frost would be have her own body, but also to be there to support SnowBarry marriage in person, and be able to interact with both Barry and Caitlin at the same time. Speaking of the Frost sisters, what would Nora call Frost? Aunt Frost? Something like that?

Yep, Caitlin and Frost never dies in this particular SnowBarry AU. It was the only stupid thing the writers did for her character.

[skunkes]

quick airing of grievances for something that ultimately isn't a real problem

but Wah its obviously going to be one of my two parents (or both !) taking me to get surgerized and driving me home (if i manage to get it scheduled...🧿🧿🧿) and...! idk...! i wish i still had any irl friends in the vicinity that cld be there...

parents are begrudgingly accepting of it because well it's already in motion, it's My Life and Body, but they obviously won't be ecstatic about it. like.

i keep imagining being in recovery and feeling very excited and happy but having that feeling be squished down and suppressed by their disappointed faces...or wondering how they'll awkwardly Look at me when im back home recovering and hobbling around... like even here I'll feel bad about "doing this to them" and what "went wrong" to make me so disappointing in every possible facet. even though i've fantasized about this since I knew my body was capable of Horrors, have been looking into it since high school, i've been tweeting about wanting it every other week for the past 4 years, etc.

[gracebethartacc]

so was anyone gonna tell me the PQ being shadoo hc actually had canon bias beyond “oh they were both made by the ancients and hate them lol” like I had assumed for ages bc HELLO? WHY DID I NEVER SEE THIS DIALOGUE UNTIL NOW..

Also semi related/feels relevant to maybe explain how tf PQ becomes shadoo hypothetically if it is legit?:

[autosadist]

wish i could tell people my brother died without having to dial it back to "oh not biological, his family just raised me" and lose all the sympathy they put into acknowledging the power of biological connection* vs lack of one

[whack-patty]

Got REAL invested in clangen last night. Here are my fav 4 that haven't died yet

Og sprites belong to the game!!!

[werebutch]

My mom getting mad at my sister for bringing water to school instead of Gatorade or soda is insane to me. ACTUALLY MAD AT HER!!!!!

[heresronnie21]

I did this ages ago and I don’t remember why I didn’t post it

[samarecharm]

Random question about the “they should make persona for people who like good games” post. Do people think the persona series is that bad? I know they aren’t perfect but I wouldn’t call them bad games.

I had a wholeass essay written out before i realized im too tired to make it sound coherent. AND my only experience is p 4 and 5, so my opinion on it means jack shit. All i can say is that the most recent titles suffer from bad writing. (And repetitive gameplay, but thats a different issue). Be it poorly written characters and dialogue, or poorly written interactions and plot, it is hard to take some of the stuff in the more recent games at face value. One could argue that that just means the game is subpar, not necessarily bad, but thats subjective; bad means different things to different people. And i say this as someone who thinks this game is Not the best but still found it incredibly engaging and entertaining.

[gin-draws]

some girlies seeking vengeance

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Harmony

Summary: Keep your friends closer and your exes closer

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Choose Your Own Era, Established Don/OFC, Past Joe/OFC, Friends to Lovers, Exes to Lovers, Threesome (F/M/M), Switch Don

Words: 3001

A/N: for @crushribbons !!! ily!!!

-

AO3

or

They’ve been dating for six months when it happens.

With her arm hooked in Don’s, they walk down the street, a pleasant warm evening with just the slightest breeze. She chatters on and on while Don nods along, a small smile on his face.

That’s when Joe appears from around the corner, whistling with his hands in his pockets. She and Don freeze but while her stomach turns cartwheels, she has no idea why Don has turned to stone.

“Joe,” Don greets his friend after he collects himself and she notes how Joe’s eyes light up.

“Donny, funny seeing you round here,” he jokes as he gives Don’s arm a friendly slap.

Joe then turns to her, his stare soft and fond. “And hello to you too.”

She blushes, accepts the kiss Joe places on the back of her offering hand.

Joe is quick to turn back to Don, already deep into rowing talk and she listens. The two bounce off each other, a natural ease as Don chimes in when Joe takes a breath. They laugh and joke, unaware of the world around them.

She likes this side of Don, when his walls come down. So often he carries the weight of the world, finds comfort in his own mind. Not that this is a terrible thing. But to see him smile with Joe, there’s a beauty to this friendship.

“Well I better not spoil your evening,” Joe looks at her. “I’ll see you around.”

Her heart thumps in her chest and she curses inside her head. Those damn blue eyes still have her in a chokehold.

“Everything okay?” Don asks as they continue on their walk.

She didn’t realize how quiet she had become and she shakes her head in apology. “I’m alright. Honest,” she smiles at Don.

Worry still knits his brow, but he doesn’t push. Always so considerate Don is that the next words spill out of her mouth.

“Joe and I used to date.”

“Oh?” Don’s voice rises in surprise.

She dares to look into his eyes and almost wants to laugh. Don doesn’t seem at all jealous. Instead, there is a curiosity swimming in the hazel hues that look down at her.

“He’s a friend,” she reassures. “We ended on a good note.”

Don hums, nods. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from him.”

“You’ve thought about his dating life?” She teases with a poke to Don’s side.

“Not really,” Don’s face has gone red.

He looks down at his shoes and guilt settles in her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she tucks close to Don. “I promise you don’t need to worry. I’m happy with you. Very happy.”

“I’m not worried,” Don stops and faces her.

He cups her face with one hand, pulls her into a tender kiss. Her heart melts and she falls easily into the embrace. When they part, it’s Don who chases after as if he never wants the kiss to end.

With a small laugh she tugs his hand and they hurry along to make the most of the night.

~

Don is an attentive lover. If only his boys knew just how much, she’s sure they’d be blushing messes.

Like she is now, arching off the bed when Don licks a broad stripe up her clit. He slips a finger inside her and she gasps. Yet the first thing she sees when she closes her eyes is shining blue staring down at her. Screwing her eyes shut even more, she focuses back on Don, his curling tongue, the added finger scissoring her open.

“Don,” she stutters out. Another name almost left her lips and she holds a hand over her mouth.

Better safe than sorry.

Don keeps going with his ministrations, tongue flicking, fingers pumping as the heat coils low in her stomach. She trembles, her thighs threatening to clamp around Don’s head.

“I’m close,” she dares to speak and Don pulls back, lips shining with her slick.

He kisses her then and she moans, savoring the taste of the two of them mingling together. Don is swift to put on the condom, to line himself up. She sinks into the mattress, biting her lip as Don pushes in.

He’s bigger than Joe and this thought does little to relax her. Don runs a hand along her side, gently cups one of her breasts.

“Darling,” he pulls her from her mind and her eyes snap open.

Don’s stare is intense, his mouth just slightly open as he pushes in all the way. Her hands scramble up Don’s arms, urges him to come closer. With a groan, Don drapes himself over her, pulls her into his arms. He starts slow and soft, letting her body get used to the intrusion.

He’s so warm, safe, and she moans with the drag of his cock inside her. When she clenches, she catches Don’s breath hitching and does it again and again.

Don is quiet, so unlike Joe’s constant run of compliments and she can’t decide which she prefers. With a huff, she tries to stop comparing the two men, guides one of Don’s hands to her clit.

With an understanding nod, Don rubs his fingers on the sensitive nub, speeds up his thrusts. She hopes coming will clear her mind and she repeats Don’s name, begging, pleading.

When her orgasm crashes into her, her mind goes blank and she cries out. Don’s hips stutter as he finishes soon after, all but collapsing on top of her. Their breaths mingle in the silent room and then Don pulls out, braces his hands on either side of her head.

“You said Joe’s name.”

Her stomach drops, eyes go wide and she freezes. She waits for the berating, the inevitable break up but instead the corner of Don’s mouth quirks.

“Is he better in bed?”

She whines, covers her face with her hands. “Don’t tease me, Don.”

“Not teasing,” Don pulls her hands down. He sits next to her, tugs her close to him. “I mean, Joe is handsome,” Don mumbles.

Taken aback, she stares at Don, eyebrows furrowing. Don’s face has turned red and he looks everywhere but at her.

“Don,” she tests the waters. “Have you thought about Joe?”

Don doesn’t answer, shifts to move off the bed.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she wraps her arms around his waist and puts all her weight into holding him still. “I want an honest answer, Don.”

“Why?” Don’s voice is small.

Don is perched on the edge of the bed now and she sits up, hugging him around the shoulders.

“Well,” she takes a breath.

This idea has just popped into her mind. It’s ridiculous, it must be, but the what-ifs bounce around, refuse to leave her alone.

“What if I want a night with both of you? At the same time?”

Don’s head whips to her and she curls into herself. She’s in hot water now, but the words are out, never to be taken back.

“Do you think he’d want to?”

Her eyes are about to burst out of her head and instead she laughs. She kisses Don on the cheek, relief flooding through her. At this, Don smiles, turns to kiss her on the lips.

“You know,” she starts as Don pulls her into his lap. “Joe would always talk about this strong silent brown haired man on his rowing team. If I had known it was you, I would’ve gotten you two in bed sooner.”

“Oh, Christ,” Don groans but the smile remains on his face.

A new kind of excitement jolts through her. She’s had her fair share of adventures but not like this. Not something so intimate and vulnerable.

Her mind races as Don cleans the two of them up, carries her to the bathroom. When Don looks at her, her smiles turn shy and she can’t help the little bit of doubt in the back of her mind. But when Don tucks her hair behind her ear, places a soft kiss on her cheek, she lets out her first relieved breath.

Soon, the tub is filled with steaming water and Don helps her in before joining her. She lays back against his chest, his legs tangle with hers and they get to talking. Figuring out just how they’ll ask Joe, their escape route if he yells at them.

At the very least, it’ll be something to laugh at, and hopefully Joe will remain their friend at the end of the day.

~

Joe blinks at the two of them.

Regret sneaks into her mind and she can see Don shrink in the corner of her eye.

“When?” Joe asks at last.

She perks up at this and Don dares to look at Joe.

“Whenever?” She squeaks out.

She’s still in shock that Joe has agreed and wrings her hands in her lap at her sudden eagerness.

“Like now?”

The three look between each other, and all it takes is a nod from Don before they’re scrambling to the bedroom. How perfect this is all working out, from inviting Joe to dinner and now into the bedroom. It must be a dream.

Joe pulls her into his arms first, kisses her neck. “Missed you, baby,” he murmurs into her skin.

“Yeah?” She teases.

Don’s hands on her hips ground her and she reaches her arm behind to tug Don down to the other side of her neck.

“You been treating her alright, Don?”

“You tell me,” Don retorts with a grin.

“Boys,” she chastises with friendly slaps. “Unless you two are planning to kiss and make up.”

Joe shrugs before pulling Don into an open mouthed kiss. Don’s knees buckle and she’s not surprised. Joe did always have a way of stealing her breath away.

She sneaks out from between them, watches the two as she strips down. Don isn’t the most competitive person but seeing him with Joe, it’s as if he’s determined to show her who the better kisser is.

He grips onto Joe’s collar, grinds their hips together. Joe bites Don’s lip and already works at his belt buckle. She’d be content to just watch the two but the men have other ideas. They break apart with heaving breaths and Joe goes to her first. He sits her down on the bed, pushes her legs apart. Diving into her heat, Joe licks and sucks at her clit and she braces her hands behind her on the bed.

Joe’s tongue moves just as fast as his rambling mouth and she curls her fingers into the sheets. He wants to wring her dry, but she doesn’t want to tap out so soon. The bed dips behind her and she tilts her head back, meeting Don in a soft kiss. He holds her against his chest, his clothes long gone as takes her breasts into his hands. Don squeezes and pinches her nipples all while trailing kisses along her jaw and neck.

“Want you,” she gasps. “Want both of you so bad.”

Joe raises his eyebrows, slows his tongue to teasing, little licks and she has half a mind to kick him in the head. Her flash of frustration makes Joe grin and he kisses the inside of her thigh.

“How do you want us?”

Any way possible, she thinks, but curiosity has grabbed her and she caresses Joe’s face while tracing her fingers along Don’s arm.

“You haven’t had Don yet. Why not give him a try?” She glances up at Don. His eyes dart around, a nervous lick to his lips. “I want you in me, darling,”

She kisses his jaw and Don lets out a shuddered breath. The two men look at each other before sharing an intense stare and she moves to lay down on the bed.

“I, uh, I‘ve never been with a man,” Joe admits as he crawls up.

He can look at her just fine, but he seems to avoid Don’s gaze.

“I’ll show you,” Don’s voice is quiet, an eager edge laced in his words.

Don pulls Joe into another kiss, helps him out of the last of his clothes. When Joe is finally bare, Don grabs the condoms and Vaseline, setting them down between her legs.

While Don coats Joe’s fingers, she takes a small amount of Vaseline and rubs her clit in slow circles as she watches. Joe’s hand hesitates as Don tugs him to his hole, their knees knocking before the two slot together. They bite back their gasps when their cocks touch and Don guides Joe to push a finger inside of him.

“Slow,” Don instructs Joe. “I’ll let you know when you can add another finger.”

Joe nods, his other hand on Don’s hip as he pushes the finger in at an agonizing pace. She knows Don doesn’t need it that gentle, but it’s sweet to see Don take his time with Joe. Don relaxes with the intrusion, runs a hand along her leg and grips the back of Joe’s neck with the other.

When Don tells Joe to add more, she slides two fingers into herself, mimicking Joe’s steady movements. Don’s body shakes, he holds onto her and moans to let Joe know just how good it feels.

She can see Don clench around Joe’s fingers and she grins. It’s her turn to tell Joe what to do.

“Joe,” she calls out.

Joe has never turned faster and Don’s eyes shine with excitement.

“Three fingers. Hard.”

Joe exchanges a glance with Don. A single nod is all it takes and Joe does as she says. Don’s moan echoes in the room, his fingers digging into her thigh.

Swearing, Joe bears his fingers down and Don lets out a near sob, his hands grabbing for Joe, grabbing for her.

“Come here, baby,” she pulls her hand away from herself, holds out her arms.

Releasing Don, Joe helps him over to her, a pitiful crawl on his hands and knees until he is hovering above her.

“You’re going to feel so good,” she says as she cups Don’s face. “You’re going to be a good boy for both of us.”

Don moans at this, nods his head fervently. Once the condom is on, he sinks into her, a harsh breath leaving him once fully inside. He buries his face into her neck and she hugs him around the shoulders. Grinning at Joe, she coaxes him forward with a finger and he lines himself up with Don.

Don bites down on the crook of her neck as Joe pushes in, a low groan leaving him.

“Christ, Don, you’re so tight.”

Joe’s calloused hands hold Don’s hips in place and Don lets out a small whimper as Joe settles into him.

“You can do this, Donny,” she smiles. “Show me what you can do.”

With shaking arms, Don holds himself up just enough so they can kiss. He moves his hips, shallow, tentative until Joe’s impatience takes over. He thrusts into Don, pushing him impossibly deeper into her.

Her scream is captured in Don’s mouth and he swallows her sounds, pulls away as his own moans escape from him. Their rhythm is off at first, Joe going faster than Don can, but with her hips meeting Don’s, they soon find their pace.

Joe slamming into Don sends shockwaves up her spine, her hole spasming around Don’s cock. Between his whimpers and moans, Don is on pure instinct, too far gone to sense anything else. He’s not going to last long at this rate and she reaches down to rub her clit. She wants to come with them, needs to see Don and Joe succumb to their pleasure.

“Feel so good, Donny,” Joe rambles. “God, I should’ve taken you the first day I saw you.”

The words are all too familiar to her and she can’t help the smile that spreads on her face. Joe is a hopeless romantic to the end.

Don’s cries swap between her name and Joe’s, his thrusts just going along with Joe’s. Even like this though, Don fills her up, his cock sliding in and out of her as if this is all Don is meant to do.

“Come on, baby,” she breathes. “You’re doing so well.”

Don whines, his hips stutter and he slams into her once more before he finishes.

“Shit, shit, Don,” Joe’s thrusts are relenting. “Gonna come. Gonna fill you up.”

When Joe fucks into Don, pulling out more moans from him, his body against hers is all it takes. She comes with a bitten down scream and it mixes with Joe’s heady groan.

The room is filled with each of them trying to catch their breath, the question of what happens next. It’s so loud and incredibly quiet, her mind spins.

“Goddamn, Don,” Joe murmurs as he pulls out.

Don collapses on top of her but the weight is nothing more than a secure warmth blanketing her.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” She muses as she caresses Don’s head.

Something unintelligible comes out of Don as he slowly rolls off of her. Joe comes to his side, tucks himself along Don while she props herself up on an elbow.

“Already falling asleep on us?” Joe teases. “What’s happened to our infamous stroke?”

Don gives a shrug while his eyes remain closed. The faintest hint of a smile graces his face and she grins.

“Don’t worry,” she tells Joe. “He’ll be the first one up tomorrow with breakfast made.”

“Truly a gentleman. I’m glad you found him,” Joe lays an arm across Don’s waist.

“Me too,” she curls into Don and then to her surprise, she tangles her hand with Joe’s. “I’m glad you found us.”

A silent conversation lingers in the air, a future that perhaps isn’t so impossible. Joe melds well into the life she and Don have created, she knows from the past. She can see what’s happened on this night.

Falling asleep to Don’s breathing is easy and with Joe settling in with the two of them, tomorrow brings a new beginning.

[bethanysmiled]

My only irl friends are Alex, my sister’s ex that I inherited when she died, who is moving out of state at the end of the month, a panhandler (that’s the word she uses but idk if that’s rude?) named Sheba who has to be 50 who’s going to jail tomorrow, and an old Syrian refugee who has to be in her 60s that can’t speak hardly any English but we have coffee at her apartment and she’s so sweet I love her. We do not know each other’s names.

I can only really make friends with older people idk why but now 2 of my 3 friends are leaving.

anyway that’s my life update.

[californiaquail]

my aunt died this morning and i was told about it on the same day directly and not by facebook or someone being like "oh didn't you hear aunt x died" several days later so you could say my communication with my family is improving

[melrosing]

"sansa is self absorbed and a bully to her siblings" SHES ELEVEN??????? HAS ANON NEVER MET AN ELEVEN YEAR OLD GIRL WITH SIBLINGS?????

me and my sister at that age literally throwing hands and testing out all the worst words we knew against each other