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#honest 2 god truth.
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nade2308 · 1 year
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An accurate depiction of my one braincell going from task to task unable to retain any kind of focus for long.
Part 1 || Part 2
@malewifebillcage @thethistlegirl
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rosyredlipstick · 9 months
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me, a fool: wow 50k written for the space fic! that must mean im halfway done!
me, upon review of the facts: :////////////
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artemisbarnowl · 7 months
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Having a totally normal one* after waking from a dream where I just relive life with my ex. It was so normal and fine and we did things such as lay around in bed and make plans for the day, go to the Korean supermarket on the corner, go to a friend's house together.
#*if it were in the evening i would be drinking enough to finally drink dial and just fucking ASK all the questions i am making up answers to#what did you want? what do you want now?? honestly could you find it in your heart to hate me and never wanna see me again?#because me saying 'i don't think we should talk for a while' and you saying 'id really like to be friends' are obviously Not It#omg im going to spend my birthday alone for the first time....nearly ever and im just going to go to work and be miserable#i havent been able to stop chewing on the idea of me visiting when i head down to see the fam for christmases#i want him to want me back sooooo bad!!!!#i still think about that dream where i made him pasta#would i take him back? depends on what he said#as much as im pathetic im not an idiot and id need clear evidence to show that he 1. knows what he wants (involving me) and#2. is going to ask for it#because i don't think i ever heard him say a single thing about what he wanted for our future#never said 'hey i want to see you when are you free for me to come up?'#is probably fucking dating now anyway and doesnt WANT me to remember him on new years (our best guess anniversary)#or ask to call because i want to ask questions that will be hard to answer#when all ive ever wanted is the TRUTH#not the strategic answer just the gods honest truth#and i suspect that is 'i dont want to date you i havent for a while i didnt know how to stop or what i wanted instead'#and then i could go home break every object in ny house and move on#try a dating app ot something else to attempt to look forward instead of back#so as you can see -totally normal one
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vzajemnik · 9 months
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THIS IS SOOOO CRAZY im listening to music i was listening to when i was at my lowest point EVER this year lmfao AND ITS SOOOOOO BAD. ITS SO BAD THIS MUSIC IS SOOOO BAD. bur also i did just scream the lyrics bc memories❤️ but like. its so crazy who u become when ur not yourself lmao what even is this music girl.............
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fuzzyunicorn · 9 days
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Babe he told me 2 get these so I am
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redflagshipwriter · 3 months
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Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2
MASTERPOST
The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective. 
She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him. 
“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.
Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp. 
“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”
Danny tensed. 
‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’
Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.
“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”
He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her. 
“Worried,” she repeated. 
He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip. 
She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?
…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was? 
He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.
Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures. 
But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart. 
But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem. 
God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.
Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”
“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”
“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”
He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human? 
…He didn’t really think so.
Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.
Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.
Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.
“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.
Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”
Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”
Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?” 
“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.
“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.
“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”
Danny balked. “What?”
“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said. 
Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.
He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.
Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.
He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.
Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.
Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”
Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.
That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted. 
He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.
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sreidisms · 2 months
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Early seasons Reid and with BAU!reader whom just has a HUGE crush on her and Gideon has to spell it out to Spencer? I just love season 1/2 Reid. Him in glasses just makes me swoon ❤️
THIS IS SO CUTE, like it's so probable too. I didn't understand if you meant that Gideon had to spell out that Spencer likes the reader or that the reader likes Spencer, so I went with the former. If you wanted the latter, tell me and I'll write it!
An Oblivious Genius
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Spencer has feelings for you but is too oblivious to realise - Gideon helps him.
Genre: subtle fluff
Word Count: 862
Warnings: none
A/N: the way I ended this leaves it open to a part two, so please comment if you'd like one!
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“I think you have feelings for her.”
“Huh?”
Gideon didn’t lift his gaze from the newspaper in his hands, the wrinkles on his forehead peeking from behind the inked folio. “I said, you may have feelings for her, Reid.”
Spencer never turned to anyone for help, because why would he? He knew more than anyone else when it came to most things - well, except socially. And emotionally. And anything having to do with you.
The only person that wouldn’t bruise his ego was Gideon - his mentor, his guidance. He held more of a God-like presence than a fatherly one for Reid; his advice and experience were almost holy, a dogma which Spencer believed and followed without questioning.
So when his number one source of truth told him he had a crush on you, it was a shock.
“I don’t think that’s the case-”
“Reid.”
Spencer stopped his attempted rambling as Gideon’s eyes made an appearance from behind the lowered paper.
“Just repeat what you were telling me at the start of the conversation,” the older man sighed.
Spencer shifted on his legs, picking at the rolled up sleeve that was settled by his elbow.
“I know she’s my closest friend, the person I feel most comfortable with, although she’s been working here for less time than everyone else. It’s probably because she doesn’t interrupt me and listens when I talk.” He paused for a second, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile. “I like that.”
“What else?” urged Gideon, setting his newspaper on the desk in front of him.
“I get really excited to see her. Well, I enjoy seeing Derek and Elle too, but I get this weird feeling at the pit of my stomach when I see her.” He pressed his palm to his sternum, showing the origin of the sensation.
“That’s because she means more to you.”
“Yes, but surely not in the way you’re implying. It could be heart burn; do you know that twenty percent of Americans suffer from a gastroesophageal reflux at least once a week-”
“You’re telling me you happen to experience heart burn each time she enters the room?”
Gideon raised an eyebrow, making the younger agent feel dumb for such an improbable conclusion.
“Okay … okay maybe not, the two variables cannot be fully independent of each other if they occur simultaneously every time.”
It was surprising to Gideon that such an intelligent and well-rounded person could be so oblivious to something as romantic feelings. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them slowly and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, buying himself some time to think.
“I think an obvious question is, do you think she’s pretty?” he asked and waved his hand to the side.
Spencer bit his lower lip. He thought you were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on if he had to be entirely honest; but he couldn’t admit that, not out loud at least.
“I do.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say, Gideon? That I think that she’s breath-taking and there’s not a thing about her I don’t like?” He said it with a certain anger, one that was buried somewhere deep inside him, a result of the pent up emotions and anxieties in his chest.
“Is that the truth?” You’d think that with his profiling experience, he would have learnt to mask the way he was suppressing the fluttery feelings and adoration he had for you.
Gideon sighed before speaking again: “What are the signs that one is supressing emotions?”
“Struggling to identify and express feelings or appearing emotionally distant, unexpected mood swings, and avoidance of specific topics, people, or situations.”
“And doesn’t that seem to mirror what you’re going through?”
Spencer thought about it. He was definitely finding it challenging to pin point his emotions, he couldn’t really understand what he felt for you; he didn’t really have mood swings, but had just lashed out at his mentor over a comment; and he certainly avoided the topic of liking you or the teasing of such from his workmates.
“Shit, I like her.”
Gideon chuckled at his out-of-character swearing. “First off, watch your language. Secondly, I’m glad you’ve come round.” He laid back in his chair once more, lifting up the paper to continue his reading.
The young genius didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. He liked you. More than liked you, really. He was fascinated by your mere existence, your kindness, your humour, and most definitely your looks. How hadn’t he realised this sooner?
“What do I do now?” he mumbled, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his button-up shirt.
“You tell her you like her.”
Spencer near snapped his glasses in half with the way the pads of his fingers pressed firmly in shock.
“You want me to do what?”
“Reid, it’s not a secret that she has a soft spot for you.”
The boy sputtered, jaw opening and closing like a door on rusted hinges. “I- I can’t do that!”
The newspaper rustled as Gideon flipped the page. “One of you will eventually.”
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God I need him, he's such a cutie
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ab4eva · 2 months
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‘The Three of Us’
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Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel
Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️
Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only
Word count: 8k
Pt 2 - The Three of Us: Brat Behavior
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Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.
When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.
“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.
Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.
-
“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).
“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.
“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.
-
The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.
Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.
-
Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:
Even when the cold comes crashing through
I'm putting all my bets on you
I hope they never understand us
I put my heart inside your palms
My home in your arms
Now we know nothing matters
Nothing matters
And you can hold me like he held her
And I will fuck you like nothing matters
You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.
“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.
“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.
-
“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.
“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.
“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.
Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.
That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.
“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.
The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…
Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.
“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.
“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.
Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.
Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.
-
“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.
“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.
“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.
“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.
“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.
“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.
“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.
“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.
-
The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.
“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.
“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.
“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”
Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.
“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.
“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.
“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.
You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”
Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.
Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.
“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.
“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.
“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.
“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”
“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.
“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.
“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”
You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.
“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”
Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”
It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.
“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.
“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.
“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.
“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.
“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.
Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”
Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”
When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.
“Are you -is that you…twitching?”
“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”
“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.
After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”
Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.
“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.
“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.
“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”
“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.
For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.
“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.
“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.
“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”
Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.
“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”
You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.
“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.
Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.
“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.
Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.
“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”
He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.
“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.
“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.
-
Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.
You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.
“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.
“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”
Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.
“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”
Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”
-
Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty
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mangosrar · 4 months
Text
call it what you want.
matt sturniolo x fem reader. enemies to lovers!!
WHEW YALL HEY. it’s been a while but i’m super excited to be back. love u ❤️‍🩹
warnings: suggestive. arguing
this will be multiple parts!!!!
pt2
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"im not a child anymore! i cant move 2 inches without them being on my ass about something" you exclaimed as you paced up and down the living room.
nick sat on the couch, gawking at you as you ranted. you sighed before stopping and pointing a finger at nick.
"and you know what, they dont do this to my brother, nooo he can fuck all the girls he wants but i mention one guy im not even dating and suddenly im going off the rails" nick just stared at you with a questionable expression on his face.
you knew he wouldnt understand, his parents were so lenient, so the fact you were going on a 20 minute tangent about how strict yours were was completely futile and you may as well be speaking in a different language.
you dropped your hands and whined before stomping over to the couch and plopping down next to nick.
"i mean, how could i win nick? they want me to be happy but i wanna be happy with a hot boyfriend" you said as you turned your head to look at him, he just looked down at you with a sympathetic but mischievous look.
"im worried my advice is going to get you in trouble" he cringed. you pulled your head back and furrowed your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.
"i mean... you need to rebel y/n, find someone whos completely foreign to them" you stared at him, thinking for a second.
it wasnt like you wanted to, but the fact that their heads would fall off if you found someone who was the complete opposite of your parents and their expectations, brought you a little bit of complete fucking joy.
it was like a lightbulb moment, your eyes widened, and a cheesy grin pulled at your lips as you practically leaped off of the couch and continued your pacing.
"i need someone who is all mean and mysterious, or maybe a guy who drives a motorbike or plays the drums" you rambled looking at nick for approval but being met with a flat expression on his face.
"seriously y/n?" he questioned.
"whatever im just brainstorming" you waved him off.
"whoever he is needs to be nonchalant, he needs to smoke and drink, maybe dabble in partying every now and again, he needs to have tattoos and long hair. i mean be honest, if you came home with a guy like that, i think your mom would drop dead" he explained, letting out a small laugh before leaning forward slightly.
and as if god himself was listening, matthew sturniolo appeared in the doorway, in all of his long haired and tattood glory, sipping on a can of root beer, watching you intently.
both you and nick snapped your head towards him as he stood there with a stoic expression.
"what do you want weirdo?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.
he squinted at you before sticking his hand out besides him in question.
"your in my house y/n. the real question is what do you want" he spat.
truth was you and matt had never gotten along. despite your decade long friendship with his brothers, there was always something about him that you couldnt stand and apparently matt felt the same way towards you, so the two of you started an unspoken hatred for each other one day and it has stood strong ever since.
neither of you were sure why it started, but matt always hated the way you thought you were better than everyone else, how you could never admit when you were in the wrong, or the way your scent stuck to everything so he could always smell you around the house, but mostly he hated the way his cock would jump when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, even when you were spitting insults at him.
"i want you to stop listening to our conversation and get the fuck out of my face" you bit back, turning to face him and crossing your arms, keeping your hard stare fixed on him.
"please, you love it when i get in your face y/n. and you know what, have a little more compassion, your parents are wonderful people." he scoffed as he took a step towards you, keeping his eyes trained on yours. he was clearly trying to get under your skin, and it was working.
"they dont even like you matt, i wouldnt be so up their ass" you smiled sarcastically. he just laughed before taking another step towards you.
"and i cant stand their bitch of a daughter so were even" he spoke lowly, shooting daggers at you. there was a few seconds of silence where you and matt were just glaring at each other. wordlessly throwing insults and screaming at one another, before nick cleared his throat, causing the bubble around you both to pop.
you and matt turned to look at nick who was standing up from his seat on the couch, with an expression that you couldnt place. you could feel the heat radiating off of matt, in the midst of the bickering you hadnt realized how close he had gotten, you hadnt realized how good he smelt, or how him looking down at you like a disobedient child made you want to drop to your knees there and then.
nick opened his mouth to speak, his eyes jumping from you to his brother, who was stood not even a foot away.
"back to the topic at hand...why dont you date chris?" nick said like it was the most obvious option.
"you cant be serious..." matt trailed off, looking at his brother.
"no way nick, hes like my brother, plus my parents like him" you explained, ignoring matts comment, moving away from him and taking a seat back on the couch, folding your legs up underneath you.
"fake it, be in a fake relationship with him" you werent sure what planet nick was living on, but he was not helping in any way shape or form.
you just rubbed your hands over your face, groaning at the realization this was never going to work. there was a pregnant pause, all 3 of you, thinking completely different things, before matt broke the silence.
"ok so let me get this straight, you wanna piss off your parents, and show them your all grown up, by finding a guy in a biker gang..... as a scare tactic?" he asked, sending questioning looks between you and nick.
"not a biker gang matt" nick replied flatly, shaking his head at him.
"so just someone with tattoos, and long hair?" he spoke, placing his drink down on the coffee table and crossing his arms over his chest.
you shrugged and nodded your head at him. why was he so interested.
"so you just wanna use someone, to make your parents mad?" he furrowed his brows, desperately trying to get this right, but you were sure he was trying to make you feel bad so you didnt go through with it, just so you would stay miserable. or so you thought.
"call it what you want matt, i dont care what you think, this is none of your business" you spat.
you watched matts eyes wander from yours to his brothers who had been suspiciously silent. they were exchanging glances, like they were speaking some sort of wordless language, and it was concerning. usually, matt wouldve threw an insult back at you, but his expression didnt even waiver.
pulling your eyes away from matt, you turned to nick with a confused expression, and studdied his face, watching as his eyes lit up and he grinned, before turning to face you with a look in his eye that you couldnt decipher.
"before you say anything, just hear me out"
_______________________________________________
taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @st4rswrld @soursturniolo @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @gloomymatt @gwenlore @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast
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yowlthinks · 8 months
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The Final 15: Aziraphale's decision matrix in a no-choice situation
I have been thinking and reading about what happened since season 2 came out, and I think I have finally been able to put it all down into a logical sequence. This meta is the result of both countless posts I have read on tumblr and my own thoughts.
But let us start from the beginning, which is essentially Metatron's offer:
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Notice how Aziraphale consistently declines the honour, as Metatron keeps pressing. When he says that Aziraphale is the perfect choice he also mentions that Aziraphale "is a leader, is honest and doesn't just tell people what they want to hear", which is of course a lie and they both know it. Initially, Aziraphale can't deny it because he can't just go "well, actually, I have been doing exactly that, stretching the truth in my reports and on a few notable occasions outright lying to my superiors and even God Herself". So he deflects to "where will I get my coffee?", preferring to highlight his attachment to Earth. In response to that Metatron makes his final move: he knows about Aziraphale's partnership with Crowley, and that means he knows about the lies.
This threat to Crowley gets Aziraphale to the following decision matrix:
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Telling Crowley about the threat is useless. Aziraphale knows he will suggest running away together, and that puts them both in danger. Similarly, running away alone / hiding Aziraphale will not be a good move either because Metatron will not hesitate to harm Crowley and use him as a bait for Aziraphale.
So this means that Aziraphale's best option is not telling Crowley about the threat and persuading him to come with Aziraphale, his second best being going alone. Both of these offer best safety guarantees for Crowley, and this is something Aziraphale would not compromise on.
So our angel launches into this entire speech about making a difference. These are the only arguments he can come up with on the fly regarding why he took the position (the position he does not want! At a place he does not want to go back to!). And he is terrified that Metatron will come back and he won't be able to finish this conversation, won't be able to persuade Crowley. Add to this the fact that Crowley is clearly trying to have an important conversation with him too. A conversation they would like to have in private, but which Aziraphale knows can be interrupted at any moment. That's why he tries to stop Crowley, that's why he is constantly glancing out of the window.
Aziraphale is angry and frustrated, but this is mostly anger at Metatron who put him into this position, at the unfairness of it all, at himself for not being able to get Crowley to agree. It is the despair that just when Crowley confesses his love, instead of being able to say "I love you" back, he has to swallow it down again. Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is "I forgive you for not trusting me to make the best choice for us both", "I forgive you for not agreeing to go with me, I understand why you declined". And this aligns neatly with the theory about the Nightingale song in the car being a message from Aziraphale: it is his way of saying "I love you, I chose you, I chose our side, and that’s why I had to go".
And you know what? Crowley is a clever noodle and he knows Aziraphale well, so he will figure it out, he will spot this out of character, under-duress-only style of decision-making and start untangling that mystery.
We all know how it ends, and I can't wait to see it!
UPD: to put the above in perspective, see this meta with graphs!
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jksprincess10 · 1 year
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The handyman part 1 || Joel Miller x reader
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Summary: You broke your bed and need Joel Miller, your handy neighbor in Jackson, to fix it. 
CW: FLUFF, sexual tension, talks about past losses, age gap, not smut but it’s coming.
Read part 2
A few weeks ago, a man and his daughter had moved in the vacant house next to yours in Jackson.  He mostly kept to himself, you knew only pieces of information; he was named Joel, he was Tommy’s brother and he worked in construction in another life. Lastly, he was very handsome for his age.
Having a handyman just next door was a good thing. Especially, when one night, during terrible nightmares, you broke your bed. You fought so hard, because you thought that the dream was real, that the bottom of the frame was split, and you were now sleeping on the floor.
It took you a few days of sleeping badly to build up the courage to knock on your door. When you did, his daughter opened the door. She was well in her teens and had the reputation of being too… honest.
“Yes?”
“I’m looking for… Mr Miller.”
She laughed so hard at how you called him that she had to support herself with her hands on her knees, and you felt your cheeks burning.
“Don’t call him like that, please, he’ll beat your ass.”
“What’s that about, Ellie?”
You heard Joel’s voice and the loud thumping of his work boots, before he appeared behind Ellie. Your eyes traveled to him instantly. He had broad shoulders, curly greying hair, and a trimmed beard.
“Your date’s here I guess.” Ellie shrugged and left you between adults.
“Sorry ‘bout her. What can I do for ya?”
Joel looked down at you. You were a sweet thing, probably just old enough to be born before the outbreak.
“I… uh… sorry to bother you. You told me you worked in construction. right?” He nodded, waiting for you to get to the point. “Guessed you were probably… good with your hands.” You just realized how it sounded and slapped your palm against your forehead. “What I mean is. I need you to fix something for me. Please.  In exchange… I’ll… I’ll cook for you two. Or… anything else you need, really.”
“Just let me get my tools, I’ll be right over.” He tried to ignore his racing dirty thoughts as he went to the garage to bring his trusty toolbox. There’s a lot you could do for him, actually.
He followed you to your home and you opened your unlocked door. “What d’ya need fixed?” He asked.
“My bed.”
“Oh.” Joel responded, fingers playing with the back of his hair in an awkward gesture.
The simple syllable made you realise how bad this all sounded. Joel instantly imagined you getting pounded in your bed by some other young guy in the town that had eyes only for you, until your bed broke.
“I-It’s not what you think, I assure you. Please, follow me.”
Joel followed you up your creaking stairs to your only bedroom. It was a small house, he thought. He kneeled beside the broken frame while you sat on your mattress that was laying on the floor.
You felt out of your place, with Joel in your bedroom.
You felt out of place when you imagined how he would look kneeled in front of you.
“God, what did you do. I can fix the bed legs for now, but we’ll need new planks of wood for the bottom.”
“W-Wouldn’t you like to know what I did.” You smiled, trying to build some sort of confidence. “I don’t. Rhetoric question.” He said while he fumbled through his toolbox to find what he needed. Truth is, he felt jealousy lighting a fire in his stomach. Who put their dirty hands on you?
His coldness kept you silent for a moment while he was putting your bed legs back on the bottom of the frame.
“I… had a bad nightmare. I get violent in my sleep. This is why I sleep alone, I guess.” You explained, even though he probably didn’t care.
He imagined how soft you’d be in his arms, on his own mattress. He would reassure you so you’d sleep well. He grunted in frustration, hoping you didn’t hear. But you did. And you laughed to hide the fact that you were trying to imagine if he would grunt the same way while you were sucking his dick.
He turned around to look at you, hammer in hand and a nail between his teeth.
“Don’t make me use this hammer for laughing at me.” He finally let go of some of his walls to show some humour. “I’m old, being on my knees is hard.” He said as an excuse.
“I’d never. So… wood? Do we have that?”
“Might have to look around a bit. It’s getting a bit late though, so I can do that for you tomorrow. Sorry.”
“Another night of sleeping on the floor isn’t too bad, I guess.”
You felt dumb when you had wished he would have offered to sleep with him. And he wanted to, so bad. Last time he was this close to a woman was… well, we don’t talk about it.
Your silence filled your bedroom, your eyes lost in his stature. The way his flannel stretched against his back, the way his jeans looked tight on his muscular thighs.
“Ellie’s going out tonight. You can probably use her room.”
“N-No, it’s fine, really.”
It was a bad idea, even though you wanted to.
Maybe he had overstepped.
When he was done fixing your bed legs, he got up with a grunt of pain, and walked to you, sitting beside you on your old mattress. He felt awkward, like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman anymore.
“Thank you.” You finally said as you looked up to him. His chocolate eyes were beautiful, even if the wrinkles around them made him looked tired. Maybe he smiled a lot in another life.
He was so close, you could feel the faint odour of soap, buried in his woodsy smell. You could just lean in and kiss him, just to see what he would feel like.
“So… diner, huh? What about now? And just me? Since Ellie’s going out. ”
“S-Sure!”
You got up first to climb down the stairs to your kitchen. He followed you closely, eyes momentarily looking at the sweet curve of your ass filling your jeans.
“I have some chicken and chicken bones to go through, is a soup okay for you?”
“Sounds good.”
He sat at your wooden table so he could watch while you were starting to work on the broth. It would probably take a while.
“So, you live alone?” He observed.
“Yeah. Don’t have anyone to break my bed with.”
You turned around to look at him with a small smile.
How he wished he was pounding into you hard enough to break all your furniture. He would then fix everything for you just to stay longer.
You saw how he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Don’t get hard, asshole.” He thought.
“My… past partner died before I got here.” You finally said.
He thought of Tess. “Same.”
“M’sorry…” You sat on an empty counter while you were waiting for the broth to be ready. You didn’t dare approach him too much, you feared not being able to resist him. “Guess we’re both extremely lonely. At least, you have your daughter.”
“She’s… adopted. Not my real daughter.”
“I see… Want a taste? And see if it’s up to your standards.” You asked as you took the spoon in hand to fill it with the warm and comforting broth.
Joel got up from his chair and approached you, palms on each side of your thighs as he bent down to taste the soup. It felt intimate, feeding him like that. He could probably hear your heartbeat in your whole body.
“Hmhm. It’s good.” He approved.
The spoon fell from your hands, and he caught it just in time.
“I’m sorry. I just… fuck. You make me nervous.” You laughed.
“I didn’t mean to.” He backed away. “I can leave if you want.” You held on his soft shirt to keep him close.
“Don’t. I might have other things to fix, who knows?”
He laughed, and you swore you saw his cheeks getting redder. You let go of his shirt.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.”
“Make yourself comfortable, Joel, there’s whiskey in the cupboards and beer in the fridge. I’ll watch over the broth while it boils.”
You got back on your feet, eyes staying on the yellowish liquid warming up on the stove, while your spoon was making small waves in the mixture. You didn’t dare to look at Joel for now. You heard him grab a bottle, 2 glasses and ice.
He put a glass beside you, and you smiled shyly. Joel looked at the bottle, that dated before the outbreak. “Good taste.”
“Thank you.”
**
You both finally sat at the wooden table; it was just big enough for 2 people, you didn’t have many visitors. Your legs were almost touching under the table.
“There’s gonna be a lot left. You can bring some at home. Maybe Ellie will appreciate.”
“Sure. It’s way better than my cooking. Can barely cook some chef Boyardee.”
“Damn. You need a woman in your life.” You laughed. The whiskey had loosened you up a little.
“Yes, I do.”
“So… what was life like before this for you? I was like… 6 when it started. So, I barely remember.”
So, Joel was 30 years older than you. He couldn’t keep flirting with you, he felt so bad about it. But you didn’t care.
He almost choked on his drink. “Fuck, you’re young.”
“Sorry.” You shrugged. “Not like I care.”
“To answer your question… there’s not much I wanna talk about it. Life was good with my sweet Sarah.”
“I’m… sorry.” You paused for a moment. “My parents did their best when it started. But they had to give me up to FEDRA at some point. When I was old enough to make my own decisions, I left with my partner. We were on the road for a while, and it lasted like that for years… Until he got infected, and I had to shoot him. After that, I found Tommy’s group and here I am.”
He admired how you could tell your story very calmly and coldly. To reassure you, he put his palm over your hand and softly pressed around your fingers. His warmth pulled you out of your thoughts.
“I’m sorry you lost people.”
“We all lost people, Joel.”
**
When you two finished eating together, you walked him to his door. Your body only wanted to follow him inside, to share more of his body’s warmth.
“You… sure you don’t want to come in?” He asked awkwardly.
“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel. Thank you.” You smiled softly. “After all, I’m too young to sleep at an old man’s house, right?” You added as you rolled your eyes.
You got up on your toes to press a kiss on his rough cheek, before going back to your house without looking back.
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months
Text
listening to music in his car
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, pure smutty smut, consensual somno, light degradation, butt stuff, mdni)
👑 (king): whats going on? is something wrong? you’re much less chatty today me: I just had a really shitty day at work do you have some time? 👑 (king): yes me: can you pick me up and we just drive around and listen to music in your car? 👑 (king): be there in 10
He’s right, I am being much less chatty today. The truth is he has been on my mind all day, but work has been kicking my butt.
We didn’t see each other ever since he brought me to work yesterday in the morning. He insisted on it after almost making me late – for reasons. We hurried along, and I made us some coffee quickly, then we were out the door, into the car, and driving to my workplace.
The goodbye was a little awkward because I needed to get into work, but I couldn’t really tear myself away from him. His hand grabbed my chin and he kissed me one last time.
“Come on now, before I’m making you late again.”, he said, those words finally getting me to go, even though his hooded lids and the way he was looking at me made me want to climb onto his lap and fuck him again.
To say I had a hard time concentrating at work would be an understatement because I kept thinking about that morning. How he woke me up.
Soft licks on my pussy slowly but surely coaxing me awake, and the first thing I saw, was his head between my legs, his tongue dipping into me, the rosy tip disappearing inside me, which almost made me come on the spot. His hair was falling to the side, covering my thigh, brushing over the skin when he moved his head.
A soft moan escaped my lips which had him look up at me, his brows raising slightly, as I squirmed against his lips. “Good morning.”, he whispered softly against my pussy before he licked it again.
Heaven. I slowly stretch myself, grinding myself on his face, his nose nudging against my clit. Answering with a little tired “good morning”, a breathy sound, that made him chuckle, little puffs of air hitting the sensitive wet folds.
His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me for him, as he started to lick and suck more eagerly now that I’m awake. The zaps of pleasure, that shook me when he nipped at the sensitive skin, pushed my sleepiness away until I was a writhing wet mess coming undone on his tongue.
He didn’t stop at the one, this time using his fingers as well. Slowly and sweetly coaxing the second release out of me while he was sucking my clit. Licking up my arousal, even cleaning up his fingers that had been deep inside me.
I caught myself looking into the void, my mind coming back to his head between my legs more than once. My god, I needed to get a grip.
Such an event came in the form of our boss firing half the department. I didn’t get laid off, but I have been picking up the scraps ever since. Trying to figure out how the others managed their clients. How to distribute the tasks between the remaining workers.
Yesterday evening I met with a friend, one I have known for a very long time and who already has a husband and kids and the whole shebang, that’s why I didn’t wanna give her a raincheck. To be honest, I needed somebody to talk to about this whole mess. And also brag about my new acquaintance.
I fell into bed after coming home from having drinks with her. I maaaybe had one too many which almost made me late again (which is not a good look after half your department had been fired). Working on double speed to get everything done that piled up just overnight. And I sent König a few messages. But not nearly talking as much as before the concert.
Now that I see his message again “is something wrong?”, a pang of guilt hits me. I could’ve explained it to him better. I could’ve just texted him more. I could’ve just said that I’ll tell him later. That I just was busy and it had nothing to do with him. Shit.
I leave my apartment and wait for him on the curb, waving at him, when he drives closer and parks right in front of me.
“König Private Chauffeur inc. – at your service.”, he jokes as I get in the car, which makes me laugh.
“Thanks for picking me up.”, I tell him, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. Can I kiss him? Is he… mad at me? He wouldn’t have made a joke like that or even picked me up, if he is, right?
I decide to first talk and then maybe steal a kiss later if he still feels up to it. I clasp my hands together and place them in my lap. The music from the speakers is a bit more quiet than last time, but I still recognise Dark Tranquility’s ‘Lethe’. He pulls out the driveway and starts driving at a pace above the speed limit that won’t get him in trouble if we get pulled over.
“I need to apologise.”, I start. He just looks at me for a moment, the expression on his face unreadable, before looking to the front again. And I’m aware of his serious intensity, while there is something still bubbling underneath. The same thing that just made him make the joke about being my chauffeur.
“Something happened at work and I was superbusy and yesterday in the evening I met with a friend, I told you about that, didn’t I?”, I yapp, not waiting for an answer. “And when I saw your messages, that was when I realized that I had barely texted you and didn’t even explain myself, and how that must’ve look after…” I trail off.
“I started to get worried.”, he admits. “But I didn’t want to press you because it’s not my place.” He clears his throat. “And for a little bit, I thought you maybe regretted it. What we did.”, he says with a wry smile on his face. And my stomach drops – just a little bit.
“What, no?! I just had the shittiest two days ever at work, so I didn’t have that much time to text you.”, I exclaim, reaching my hand out to touch his arm, and his gaze drops down to it for just a little bit, panning back up to me. “I swear, it had nothing to do with you. I’m sorry.” I smile at him and he nods, some of the worry dissipating. “And I don’t regret sleeping with you. Not in the slightest.”, I tell him, looking directly at him, so he knows I’m serious. I can feel the tension drop out of him, at least some of it, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna… I thought that maybe the age difference…”, he starts to explain, but breaks off twice. “It seems, I was overthinking it.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry.” To be fair, I would have never thought that it would give him some kind of insecurity – this kind of insecurity. But his messages and his words make it clear that he cared more about the whole ordeal than I thought. I pull my hand back, hesitatingly, not really knowing what else to say. His doubts were only in his head, not in mine.
"I’m gonna be honest with you, I didn't have any dates or sleepovers of that kind in like… probably four or five years?”, he says, the sentence more sounding like a question. “So, I’m a bit rusty.”
To say I’m flabbergasted by his admission would be an understatement. “Really?”, I ask. How? would be the next question. But I bite my tongue.
He shrugs his shoulders, seeming more nonchalant than he perhaps really is. “Yeah. I was too busy with work.”, he just says, but I can still see little nervous ticks happening all over his body. His thumb drumming on the steering wheel, his left leg bouncing up and down a bit. His other hand fidgeting with the gear shift, dropping down, grazing my thigh ever so slightly. Just the slight touch against my jeans makes me hyperaware of how close he is. The interior of the car is spacious enough, but due to his sheer size that doesn’t really matter. I lean more to the side, towards the center console, even closer to him.
“So, what happened at work?”, he asks then, seemingly not wanting to talk about his dating life anymore. I tell him about the whole mess with the department, and how I’m surprised that even though my boss doesn’t like me very much, I didn’t get cut, and that I now have all of Rhonda’s clients and they’re not happy about that either.
“So yeah, I’ve been extra busy and I can’t really slack because they’ll probably fire me too then.”, I conclude my extensive retelling of my last two work days.
“I see.”, he says.
Silence falls over us, ‘Spiritual Healing’ from Death sounding from the speakers.
“And… it really wasn’t anything I did?”, he asks then, his eyes darting to me.
I tilt my head at him, like ‘you’re seriously asking me this?’. “No, I swear. Everything is good. It was…” I look to the front as red-hot blush floods my cheeks. My god, this man made me cum twice on his tongue right after waking up without wanting any favours – sexual or otherwise – in return. And he feared that he did something wrong.
I clear my throat, trying to calm myself down, thinking about that whole ordeal, but it wasn’t working at all. Especially because he catches on how flustered I am. “It was good. Had a hard time thinking about anything else, when I really needed to focus on work.”, I confess. And not just the thing in the morning, right. The concert we went to together, the conversation in the car afterward, when we hooked up and he stayed over… A very dreamy first date – if you can call it that – in my book.
“I see. That’s…” His lips quirk as he’s trying to stay serious, but I can see him breaking, turning his mouth up into a smirk. “That’s good to know.”
“Don’t grin like that.”, I tell him, a little pouty, which only makes him laugh, while he takes a turn, so we’re heading down the road that leads outside the city.
His hand mindlessly wanders to his lips, his thumb softly stroking over his lower lips, like he’s also thinking about what we did, the reminder of how we kissed making my mouth drop open ever so slightly.
He sees the way I’m looking at him, and the pointer finger hooks in a ‘come hither’ motion. It doesn't take more than that. I lean towards him, bending up to reach him, my hand gripping his forearm, and I press my lips to his, feeling their softness. Just a short kiss because he’s still driving, but it is enough to make me sigh when he breaks away.
“So, tell me again, how good was it for you?”, he asks, a devilish grin forming on his face while his eyes dart between my face and the street in front of him.
I shoot him a look, but he only chuckles, a cocky sound. Oh, two can play this game. I’ll just remind him how desperate and turned on he was as well.
I lean closer to him once more, this time letting my hand trail down his stomach, placing kisses along his jawline, and I can almost hear him falter instantly, especially when my fingertips reach the waistband of his jeans. I lick his neck and a slight shiver shakes him, before I suck on it, leaving a small little hickey, like the one he left on my collarbone.
“Please.”, I say again, palming him over the zipper. His breath goes harder, the leather of the steering wheel squeaks with how hard he’s gripping it, while I softly graze over the hard tip that’s already poking out his jeans, his erection straining against the fabric.
“I need you to fuck me.”, I almost moan into his ear, a little bratty smile stalking onto my face. “Need you deep inside me.”
I can hear his restraint snap. He grunts, pulling the car to the side, parking it on the side of the road. “Get on the backseat.”, he orders, looking at me all stern, pure lust glinting in his eyes, and I scramble to get the seatbelt off and climb back through the seats.
That tone in his voice and that look on his face could make me do anything, my god. I suppress my need to answer with a “Yes, Sir” and watch him, while he gets out the driver’s side and opens the door to the backseat.
“Lie down, ass up.”, he tells me, gravelly and hoarse. I do as he told me and he pulls at my pants, pulling them far enough down to expose my ass and pussy. He climbs in behind me, onto the seat, his jeans grazing over the exposed skin of my thighs, and I have to hold myself back not to press back into his groin. He closes the door behind him and dwarfs the backseat with his sheer size, trying to fit under the car’s roof.
His hand comes down on my left cheek, the slap resounding in the space around us, drowning out the music for a split second. He spanks me again, a few times actually, which has me squirm, needy, wet and desperate for his touch. His fingers lightly graze over the reddened skin before he slaps my cheeks again, while his other hand finds my wetness, fingertips rubbing over my clit.
“If I had known that you are such a needy little thing…”, he says, pushing his fingers into me roughly. I whimper, his words only making me wetter, as I grind against his hand.
“Oh, you like that, huh?”, he asks, a rather rhetorical question.
“Yes, please, fuck.”, I groan, my nails digging into the firm black leather of the backseat, desperate to hold on to something, while the pushes of his digits alone almost make me slide forwards. Trying to fuck myself back onto him, my hips buck of their own volition.
“Please, I need more.”, I beg, and he grumbles, pulling his finger out of me and trying to grab his wallet to get a condom.
“That’s not more.”, I comment, meekly, teasing him, the little smirk on my face hidden, but he knows anyway. One of his hands slaps my ass again, harder this time, and I whine and giggle, wriggling underneath him.
He opens the foil packet with his teeth while his other hand fumbles with his belt. Hurried, rushed movements. I hear the snap of the rubber and then he pushes into me. The sudden stretch makes me scream, my back arching.
“Is that what you wanted, Kleine?”, he almost growls, as he starts to fuck me hard, the whole car shaking from his onslaught. “For me to take you right here on the backseat, hm?”
The “yes, yes, yes” from my mouth is more moans than actual words.
“Fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”, he grunts, the inflection in his voice getting more and more unhinged while he pounds into me. “Like a good little slut.” The light degradation washes over me, stoking my arousal. My fingers clasp over my mouth, moaning into my hand, while I struggle to hold on with the other one-
“Oh no no no, I need to hear you.”, he grunts, pulling them away from my lips, letting his hand rest on my shoulder then, using his hold on me as leverage to pound me even harder. The sounds that drop from my throat are almost obscene, drowning out the music.
With him fucking me from behind like that – he is so deep inside me, I feel his tip nudging against my cervix every single time, the intense feeling making me shake. The soft pillow of my asscheeks is softening every blow, but the slap against my skin reminds me that he spanked my butt before.
He spits, the dollop of saliva running down my crack. I can feel his thumb dragging the spit over my puckered hole, until he pushes into it, and the sensation makes my arms weak. The side of my face is getting pushed into the leather seat, my ass high up, his dick driving into my pussy, while he slowly pushes his thumb into my other hole, using the very same hand to pull my hips against his lap.
“Oh fuck.”, drops from my lips as he starts to also fuck me with his thumb, not at the same pace, slower, but the added pressure is driving me crazy. I won’t make it long like this.
I can feel how my thighs start to shake, the one leg almost dropping from the backseat, my pussy is squeezing him, the sensations of his finger in my ass- it’s all too much.
My toes are curling inside my boots that press against the nice leather of the seat, dirtying it up. His lap collides with my behind again, his length bottoming me out, while the digit inside of me presses down, just slightly, and I can feel the tension snap like a rubberband, the zap of pleasure getting flung through my body.
With a loud incoherent curse, I cum around him, pulsing on his dick and thumb, the convulsions shaking me hard. He’s still fucking me through the orgasm, the continued stimulation taking my breath away until I feel tears prick in the corners of my eyes, and I slump down into the cushioned seat, when he pushes into me one last time and cums too, his fingers digging into my ass, almost bruising the plump skin.
The next few moments are filled with our panting breaths and some song playing that I can’t recognize while my brain is still hazy with pleasure.
“Are you okay?” The first question he asks.
“Yes, I’m fucking perfect.”, I mumble I’m not even exaggerating. This was everything I needed.
I straighten myself up and he pulls back, almost hitting his head on the roof of the interior, and I have to clasp my fingers over my lips to hold back the giggle. He shoots me a look nonetheless and quickly gets rid of the condom, pulling it from his softening dick and putting both away, while I more or less put my clothes in place again, which is more difficult with arms made of putty.
“I’m sorry, I feel like I got carried away.”, he breathes, his chest rising with every breath, his hands reaching for me, pulling me onto his lap. His eyes are searching mine again, the same as last time.
My hand shoots up, cupping his cheek. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize, that was great.”, I tell him. The look on his face is painted in surprise.
“Mein Gott, I don’t know what I did to...”, he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of my neck, the rest of the sentence getting swallowed up.
We stay like that a little longer, my fingers scratching over his scalp, caressing him softly, as he snuggles into me, his arm thrown around me like a weighted blankie. Music is still coming from the speakers in the car, ‘Love You to Death’ is currently playing which makes me chuckle to myself. I could have stayed here for hours, in his car, the scent of leather and himself engulfing me. The soft vibrations of the bass shaking the seats. Sitting on his lap, cuddled into his arms. The warmth of his body almost lulling me to sleep. The way he presses kisses to my cheeks and temples every so often. Little small touches, soft and tender.
“I’ll bring you home, okay?”, he says after a while and I nod. I pull my panties and pants up properly and climb into the front seat again.
I turn the music up louder, and ‘Sulfur’ from Slipknot is shaking the speakers while he gets in the driver’s seat again. I hum along to the song, sitting in my seat, looking up at him like nothing had happened. The way he’s looking at me, serious on the outside, but I can see the bubble of mischief in his eyes, and it makes a grin form on my lips, while I sing “like breathing in sulfur.” That pulls a laugh from his chest, and that hearty full-of-life sound makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“What?”, I ask him, grinning up at König.
He shakes his head, his grin at least as wide as mine. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” He starts the car and mutters something, that I can’t quite hear with the music so loud. “It’s great, even.”
next part: sending him a naughty pic
~ More Stuff in the Masterlist ~
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pls make reader and milf!abby have a baby together 😭😭😭
Baby - part 1/3 (Milf!Abby x reader)
This is going to be a 3 part series! Part 2 will be released soon:)
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Milf abby: Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
baby series: part 1 part 2 part 3
masterlist
Authors note: i'm back fr, i finally finished with exams and I'm here to spam with fics again
☆ Milf Abby who was happy with the life the two of you were already living but something was missing.
☆Milf Abby who always thought you were good with kids
☆ Milf Abby who never really thought about having another kid until she married you.
☆ Milf Abby who thinks about it a little too much, if she has to be honest
☆ Milf Abby who never brought up the conversation of having another baby even though you were hinting at having another kid.
"Abby isn’t this cute" you said with a pout as you handed her a onesie you bought for Mel's baby shower.
"Abby look" you pointed at Aubrey playing with one of your collogues newborn baby: "she’d be such a good big sister"
☆ Milf Abby who would only nod or smile at whatever you had to say involving babies because she was terrified.
☆ Milf Abby who was asked about when the two of you were gonna have a baby.
"So..." Nora started
"yeah?" the blonde looked at her with a raised eyebrow
"when are you and your girl gonna have a baby?"
suddenly Abby's body went cold, she could hear her heart beating out of her chest and she silently stared at Nora with wide eyes.
"We um-"
"Abby having another baby?"
They heard a voice talk from behind them. Both of the girls heads snapped into the direction of the voice and there stood Mel, still heavily pregnant.
"When you have a kid you should be able to play with them, and to run around- don’t you think you passed that stage already? Don’t you have back pain or something?"
"Mel" Nora said sternly.
"no Nora she has to hear the truth" Mel replied.
Abby met the eyes of the brunette and Mel gave her a sympathetic smile: "by the time your baby is ten you'd almost be sixty, you'd be her grandma Abby"
☆ Milf Abby who agreed with Mel.
☆ Milf Abby who avoided you for a few days because she felt like she was keeping you back in life.
"Can you shut the fuck up" she said with a frustrated sigh.
You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. You knew there was something wrong due to her distant behavior recently. You thought she was stressed, tired maybe.
“Abby I just asked if you wanted something to eat”
Abby looked at you with a blank facial expression, before she looked down to the floor, brining her head into her hands.
You walked towards her putting your hand on her shoulder “talk to me abs”
you felt her muscles tense underneath your touch “c’mon Abby you can tell me anything”
she finally looked up from her hands, and she made brief eye contact with you before she looked away once again
“I-“
“spit it out”
“I don’t think we should have a baby”
“what?”
“listen baby” she started, and she gently took your hands into hers as she saw your eyes fill with tears
“I did some thinking, and I don’t think we should have a baby because I’m happy just with you and Aubrey. Don’t you think another baby will complicate our life?”
You stared at her in shock, how could she not tell you about this earlier?
“Abby you knew. You fucking knew I wanted to have kids, and you said you wanted the same. Now you want to change your mind?”
“Can I not change my mind?”
“You have every right to, but you know how I felt about having kids. You know that I've always wanted to be a mom"
She knew that. She knew all of this.
“aren’t you already a mom to Aubrey? Are you saying my daughter isn't good enough?”
“I did not fucking say that and you know that”
“but you meant it”
“fuck you” was all you said as you got up and walked towards the room the two of you shared.
She doesn’t know why she said that.
God Abby fucking knows what she said was wrong. It's not that she doesn’t want to have kids, its just she knew Mel had a point. She would be in her sixties by the time your baby would be done with high school.
Maybe she was too old after all.
☆ Milf Abby who had to listen to you sob throughout the night.
☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you the next morning.
Abby let out a groan as she heard Aubrey giggle. She brought her hands up to her eyes as she opened them.
The light has always been bright in the living, but jesus she didn’t know they were this fucking bright.
Abby winched as she sat up from the couch, her limbs felt like they were burning. Her eyes fell on you and Aubrey. The two of you were eating and smiling, and as she took in the scene and she knew it was fucked up of her to say what she said yesterday.
Abby got up, still feeling stiff but she made her way towards the two people who she loved the most.
Aubrey gave her a bug smile and muttered a quick "good morning mommy" before she ran to her room. She smiled at her daughters before she focused her attention towards you.
You didn't even look at her.
She felt sick to her stomach.
“I left some eggs for you” was all you said before you walked out the kitchen.
Abby really fucked up.
☆ Milf Abby who tried getting your attention all week but you ignored her.
☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you but all you replied with was “I don’t want to talk”
☆ Milf Abby who finally had enough and she decided that she should tell you what actually happened.
☆ Milf Abby who showed up to your classroom once again.
The room was empty and you stood with your back facing away from the door. Abby quietly walked towards you.
“hi”
she watched as your body jerked “jesus Abby I told you that you should start knocking” you said out of breath.
"Sorry" she mumbled
"can we talk?" she watched you facial expression turn cold.
“sure”
“thank you”
The room was filled a awkward silence, it was tense and it felt suffocating.
“talk Abby, I have things to do”
“I'm sorry”
“is sorry all you can fucking say?”
Abby wanted to bang her head against a wall.
“I want to have a baby with you”
“aw you changed your mind? What happened? Did I force you Abby? Are you sure you want this Abby? Oh wait! I don’t think I want to be a mom anymore, since you said that I m practically going to replace Aubrey. Oops let me-"
"it was Mel"
"what did Mel do?"
And the truth came out. Abby told you everything she said, how I made her feel.
You gave her a sympathetic smile before you spoke again: "You need to stop letting people tell you you're too old Abby. You keep losing opportunities, you keep giving yup your dreams, as soon as someone says something. You need to learn that you should stop listing to what others have to say about your age"
“I know but its hard” Abby muttered.
You got up and you walked towards her and you pulled her into a tight up “I know, but we’ll work though it. I’ll help you with whatever and if you don’t want to have a baby its ok-"
"no no I want to have a baby. I want to have one with you"
a smile spread onto your face.
"can we have a baby?" Abby asked.
"if you start working on your self confidence and you stop listing to what bitches have to say about you I will then we can have a baby"
"yes ma'am, i'll do whatever you say"
"one more thing Abby"
"yeah?"
"Don't ever talk to me in that way again. What you said really hurt my feelings, and i understand you were hurting too but it didn't give you the right to talk to me in that way. I love Aubrey more than anything so don't say that again"
"I'm so sorry baby i really am, i there anything i can do to make it up to you?"
"You can start by getting me chocolate milk"
☆ Milf Abby who made it up to you by apologizing over a million times, and by doing every single thing you said.
☆ Milf Abby who immediately started looking for doctors and baby names.
☆ Milf Abby who blocked Mel because fuck her and her fucking opinions.
☆ Milf Abby who did started working on her self confidence and she immediately felt better about everything.
☆ Milf Abby who was excited to have a baby with you.
<3
My pookies (the taglist): @lia-winther @hellorai
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ineffable-suffering · 9 months
Text
Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why.
Okay. I’m not gonna beat around the bush for too long. It’s time now for me to also throw my try at a personal Good Omens Season 2 Magnum Opus into the mix of already existing magnum op..i? Opusses? (Smited? Smote?)
If I’m honest, it isn’t fully my own magnum opus, as I read this meta not too long ago that made me go: „Oh! My God! That’s it!“ And I’m pretty sure a lot of other people have clocked this too by now. Of course I’m not saying it’s the objective truth but after having mulled it over for many endless nights and days, wading through the onslaught of coffee theories, body swap theories, The Metatron re-writing the Book of Life theories and many, many more, this is the one I think is most plausible and, if you look closely, most obvious.
And it goes as such: Aziraphale lied.
To all of us. All of them. And most of all, to Crowley. He lied to him. Well, he sort of did and also sort of didn’t. He certainly didn’t tell the truth. At least not all of it. I hear you ask: “OP, what the fuck are you talking about”. I answer you: Let’s start from the top and under the cut.
(Small note: this meta ended up being way too large for Tumblr, which is why I will redirect you to an external doc at the end of the post, where I have written it all down nicely and accurately. It's about 35 digital A4-pages long, just in case you want to save it for later.)
(Word count: 12.831 | Approximate reading time: 50 minutes)
Let’s start with a short recap of what happens before the Metatron crashes the bookshop party and everything goes to shit. The proper visuals for this are in my Tumblr post but I am absolutely convinced that right up until when the Metatron comes to take Aziraphale away and talk to him, the angel is fully ready to get into Crowley’s Bentley-chariot and finally ride off into the sunset (or Alpha Centauri-set or whatever). You can see it in his face and body language. You can see when the penny drops for him that a) Crowley loves him b) he loves Crowley and c) they can finally start their happily ever after. Aziraphale realizes this all throughout said Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does. 
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I mean, look at that. Look at it. This (very shitty recording, sorry, I'm not tech-savvy enough to avoid the Amazon Prime screen recording blocker) is the very second Aziraphale realizes hat Crowley loves him. When he hears him suggest Alpha bloody Centauri as a getaway for Gabriel and Beelzebub, as Crowley has done to Aziraphale for so, so many times now. He finally understands what Crowley was trying to tell him with that all those times.
Aziraphale realizes this all throughout the Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.
Right when Crowley suggest Alpha Centauri as a nice getaway spot to the two, Aziraphale looks at him and he gets it. That Crowley has loved him, has been loving him for millennia. Truthfully, they've both known that for a long while now. But there's a difference between knowing, wanting, craving and actually being able to finally have something. And that's exactly what we see on Aziraphale's face here. This is it. This is where it all starts working out for Crowley and him. This is were they can start their eternity together.
So from that second on, Aziraphale only has eyes for Crowley. He keeps physically pawing at Crowley with complete heart eyes, as if to say „Look, look, that’s gonna be us too! Finally!" He’s actually so smitten that he doesn’t even hear what Crowley is saying when he asks Shax if he can have back his apartment now because he’s sick of living in his car. (Also, what way to drop that bomb right in this moment Crowley, lmao). 
Once the Metatron comes in, the first thing Aziraphale says is that they don’t need to talk because „he’s made his position quite clear“. He doesn’t even want to talk to the Metatron, because in his mind, he’s already made the choice. Actually, he made the choice way before the bookshop showdown. For starters, I’m convinced that the Jane Austen Ball actually never was for Maggie and Nina but for Crowley and him (you can read more about that here). And apart from that, for this whole season we have seen Aziraphale trying to advance his relationship with Crowley romantically and domestically and move them to the literal next base (our car!). And after everything he just witnessed with Brielzebub, the final nail in the coffin of ethereal-infernal romance being possible, his choice is absolutely crystal clear: It’s Crowley. It’s always been Crowley and it always will be Crowley. And now it can be Crowley. They can be an us.
The whole of Season 2 is such a massive learning curve for Aziraphale’s character, with him remembering all those important pivotal points of his past,  and this very moment is the peak, with him not only understanding that Crowley loves him (because he certainly knew for quite some centuries now) but accepting that love, letting himself have that love, being allowed to want that love and taking that love and starting their new and final chapter with it. Nevertheless, the plot clock ticks for them. The Metatron saunters into the bookshop, evil and stinky as Metatrons do, and urges Aziraphale to come with him with his whole Take The Coffee schtick, which I will get into later. And Aziraphale, immediately sensing there’s Something Up, does. Can’t really turn down someone as high-ranking as the the voice of God, after all. Even if you were currently already planning how you were going to elope with a certain red-haired serpent of Eden. 
he next time we see Aziraphale on screen, it’s so painfully evident on his face that he is neither happy nor excited. Not even the slightest bit. We’d know if he was, thanks to Mr. Michael master-of-microexpressions Sheen. None of the usual “Aziraphale is happy”-signs are there. No blinding eye-smile, no giddy wriggling, not giggles and gasps. No, when the Metatron tells Aziraphale to „go tell your friend the good news“, his expression looks like this:
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I’m gonna go out on an entire limb here and say: That does not look like someone who’s absolutely tickety-boo hyped to tell his demon soulmate that he just got the juiciest promotion and that they can both be angels and live happily ever after in ethereal eternity now.
This, folks, looks like someone who knows exactly that the news he has to break right now, are going to be tickety-shit awful and very upsetting to said demon soulmate. And already, from that very short snippet of conversation, we can tell that Aziraphale isn’t really given a choice by the Metatron. Because while the Metatron does tell him that he doesn’t have to „answer right away“, he immediately follows it up by: „Go ahead and tell your friend the good news!“ Very distinct and definitive choice of words here. It’s “good news” because it’s already been decided. Because it’s already a done deal. There is no “yes, no, maybe”. This is the only choice he’s giving to Aziraphale. Because it’s ‘Coffee or death’. 
And he already gave him the coffee. 
***
Tumblr won't let me continue this over a certain character limit and I am not even remotely done yet – so, I feel like this is a good moment to redirect you to the continuation of this insane meta before we're in too deep. You can do so right here!
I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this once you've fought your way through it. Hope you have a good time with it!
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ju1cyfru1t · 6 months
Text
don’t die on me (rise! donnie x reader)
rottmnt x reader
angst-ish???, HURT?, gn reader, mentions of blood and wounds, reader is injured D:
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Donatello held your body in his trembling arms on his knees on the ground. He had already called Raph and they were on there to you guys now because he knew it would be best to keep you there and not move you around too much.
He really couldn’t stand the fact that your blood was dripping onto his plastron and thighs but right now his focus was solely on keeping you awake and, well, alive.
How could he be so reckless? One little fight over which direction to take in the foot clan base and he left you all alone. His heart sank to the deepest pit of his stomach when he heard your screams.
He winced and swallowed hard when he saw the deep wound on your side near your rib cage, a pool of deep crimson slowly forming on your pants and your shirt. He looked up at your face and tried to ignore his nausea, “Y/N, can you hear me? Just focus- focus on my voice…and please, please don’t die on me right now.”
“Now you care about me?”
His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked down at you, your words whirring and spinning in his mind. Then came the overwhelming, crushing guilt. God, he’s such a jerk.
“Y/N. Listen to me.” He took a deep, trembling breath and took a moment to gather his words, “This is so much scarier…than I ever could have imagined. Because you’re a really awesome person, and I didn’t want another awesome person to be in our family.” He breathed out, “But I was…wrong. The honest truth is…you do belong in this family. And I do care about you. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to show it…even though, I love you. You know, all this heartfelt stuff is really not my style so just…Please don’t die on me.”
There was heavy silence for a moment, his words sinking in for both of you.
“Say it again.” You looked up at him, trying to ignore the sharp, stabbing pain coursing through your whole body.
He scoffed, trying his hardest not to let his emotions show, “What?”
“I love you.”
Donnie wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to his chest, a small sniffle and whimper escaping him involuntarily, “I love you.”
——————————————————————————
part 2 for comfort or something?
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