#first post on my turn sideblog! :)

[simcoesleftear]

turnposting: tweets edition

[infinitystation]

i love wonder trading and getting back nicknamed pokemon. yes he IS a Soft Boi, i will take great care of him. i will watch over Jeffery with my life. i've given a great home to Egg 587

[lowrylesbian]

oh yeah here’s my nhl team tierlist. any bruins-related concerns should be directed to my buddy eli whos my only hockeyfriend-but-not-jetsguy

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Casually wishing I could remember more about Little Witch Academia so I can figure out what Sucy would think of The Last of Us.

(Pretty sure she’d be rooting for the cordyceps.)

[ryasanda]

i wish as a community we were nicer to females stuck deep in the gender cult…. like i just feel a lot of the responses are vitriol and mockery vs patience and sympathy

[tacticalhimbo]

if i had a nickel for everytime a fandom post on my rp sideblog earned me hate anons, i'd be able to buy a snack and probably a drink, too)

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Chapter 10)

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: oral, bathroom sex, strap-on, smut, mommy kink, little bit of angst at first

Author's note: so sorry this took so long to post lol things have been crazy

Taglist (hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, I'm so sorry!): @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch

When you had found out your dad was cheating on your mom two years ago, you could feel the numbness seeping into every crack and crevice in your body. You remember looking at his phone while you two were watching a tv show and seeing the dirty texts he sent to a woman he used to work with. He was never very subtle about texting her, and you just had a feeling. Deep down, you knew what you were going to find. 

That didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. 

The betrayal, the anger, the sadness. They all rushed over you but you’re still not really sure if you actually felt any of it. You were in a daze for the rest of the day, the need to scream building in your throat gradually. 

You finally couldn’t take it anymore and you went for a run the next day, which is something you never would usually do. The thumping of your feet against the pavement sounded like why? why? why? Why would he do this? Why would he choose her over his family? You ran until it felt like your legs were on fire and your lungs were about to burst until you finally doubled over, bit down on your hand, and let the guttural scream claw its way out of you. Your teeth had broken your skin and you could still see the small white scar if you flexed your hand just right. 

After that, you locked the pain somewhere deep down inside you. You hadn’t even gotten to really confront him about it.

But when Agatha says that your dad is having an affair, you feel your stomach drop and somewhere, the buried feelings start begging to get free, rattling on the bars of their enclosure. 

“What?” You ask quietly, a lump growing in your throat as you crane your head up to look at her. Your hand on her stomach stalls. She has a distant look in her eyes. 

“Monday night after you left, your dad couldn’t find his phone so we were looking for it. I found it on the kitchen table while he was looking in his office and he had just gotten a text. I glanced at it and it was from a woman.” Agatha doesn’t continue, but you can only imagine what the text said. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump getting bigger. You remember making that mean comment to her the first night you got dinner about him cheating again. 

She laughs ironically. “I guess I can’t be mad. I mean, look at us.”  

You glance up at her to meet her sardonic eyes. “Yeah, but look at who you cheated on versus who he did. I’m sure this other woman isn’t even half as hot as you are.” 

She softly smiles and then leans down to peck your lips with hers. “That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” 

“So what are you going to do?” 

She sighs deeply and starts gently tugging on the ends of your hair. “I don’t know. Confront him? Get a divorce? I’ve spent the last two days just trying to figure something out.” 

Her cold silence makes sense now. So does the way she fucked you earlier. 

You turn your head and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, because what else is there to say? “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Her fingers tighten in your hair and they pull to tilt your head so you’re looking right at her. “I can think of something,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and she smirks with a daring nod. “Anything for my step-mother.” 

You kiss down her stomach, making sure to sink your teeth into her delectable abs and suck hard. She moans and arches her back off the bed. Soon enough, her midsection is littered with red marks and fuck, it’s hot. 

If your dad is too much of a fucking idiot to appreciate this woman, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands. 

You settle between her thighs on the bed and slowly drag your tongue up the inside of her right thigh. A noise slips out from her lips and you do the same thing on the other side to hear it again. 

“Stop teasing, baby,” she warns in a low voice. She’s glistening. 

You chuckle and then lick up through her folds. She groans and raises her hips so you can get in closer. Your tongue swirls around her clit. 

“Fuck,” she swears under her breath. You begin to lap at her, heat growing between your own legs at the way her breath stutters and her thighs begin to shake. 

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” You ask, words garbled since your mouth is full of her cunt. But she rolls her hips on her face seemingly involuntarily, so you know she understood. 

“Never,” she says breathlessly and you pick up the pace, swirling and sucking, wanting her to feel good. 

She cums quickly and then she pulls you up into a deep kiss, tongue moving over yours to taste herself. 

“What does this mean for us?” You wonder aloud after she cleans your face and you both are cuddling again. If Agatha and your father get divorced, will this affair end? Will it become more?

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, because you don’t. “I like this, though.” 

She kisses your forehead and you can feel her smiling against you. “I do, too.” 

***

Dinner tonight with Agatha and I? is what your dad texts you the next day while you’re at school. You frown and quickly shoot Agatha a text about it. The two of you hadn’t spoken any more about what she was going to do about your father’s infidelity so you just want to be aware if you’re walking into a trap. You’re not sure you can take another dinner where your dad sits you down and tells you that he’s getting a divorce. 

Agatha responds that she hasn’t talked to him yet. You did know that he was away on business – although, that could just be code for having an affair – so he hasn’t been home. And you don’t think Agatha would be one to confront him over the phone. 

You text your dad back that you’ll be there. You’re curious to see what it’s about. 

The rest of the day passes quickly while you worry about what dinner could bring. You take a quick shower when you get home from school and put on a casual black dress. You don’t really care about looking nice for whatever restaurant you go to, you just want to look good for Agatha. Your mouth almost waters at the thought of whatever she will wear. She always manages to look ethereal. 

Your phone buzzes with a message from Agatha. Your father is meeting us at the restaurant. I’m outside. 

You can sense the tension radiating off the older woman the moment you step outside. She tersely watches you walk over to her car and slide into the passenger seat. Agatha’s wearing pants with a silky button down shirt and she looks hot. 

“Hey, baby,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“You okay?” 

She grimaces and puts her sunglasses on. “I’ve barely talked to him since he left on his trip. He just asked if the three of us could get dinner.” 

Your brow furrows. “Are you going to say anything tonight?” 

Agatha purses her lips and reaches over to pat your leg. “I wouldn’t do that with you there. I’m not putting you in the middle of this.” 

Your heart warms because your mother did not hesitate to put you in the middle of her problems with your dad. She had broken almost every boundary and turned you into her therapist, and it now fills you with immense gratitude that Agatha won’t do that. 

Even though you are very much in the middle of it, with you and her having sex and all. 

“Thank you.” 

You both launch into small talk until you pull into the restaurant parking lot, where you see your dad waiting out front. Your stomach begins to sink just at the sight of him. 

You can’t believe he did it again. 

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Agatha asks, voice tight with worry. She must see how you’re looking at him through the window. You’ve never opened up about your parents with her, but you can tell that she at least partly knows how you must be feeling. 

You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. “I’m good.” 

You try to not get angry when your dad’s face lights up at the sight of the two of you. 

“My favorite girls!” He booms and pulls you both into a hug. You can feel how tense Agatha is and you’re sure you feel the same. “How are we?”

“Good,” you mutter and Agatha says something along the lines of that as well. 

He made a reservation so you’re immediately led to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. You sit opposite your dad and Agatha doesn’t hesitate before sliding in next to you. 

“How was your trip?” Agatha asks, tone laced with something sharp like she’s trying to catch him in an act. 

Before he can answer, the waitress comes over. She looks a few years older than you, with brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Almost like a younger version of Agatha, you think. She takes your drink orders, her gaze lingering a bit too long on you as you ask for a sprite. 

You can see Agatha scowling at her out of the corner of your eye. 

Your dad starts talking about his work when she leaves but you suddenly lose all focus when Agatha slowly moves her hand to your thigh and grips it possessively. 

She clearly does not like the waitress, who comes back a few minutes later with your drinks. Fully aware of this, you reach out to take your sprite from the waitress and your fingers brush right in front of Agatha’s face.

Her nails dig into your leg and you subtly smirk at her. Her eyes have completely darkened. 

After everyone orders food, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve started throbbing from the tight hold Agatha has on you – both literally and figuratively – and you’re not sure you’ll last another minute without some relief. 

Just as you push open the door, someone grabs your wrist and shoves you inside. You gasp and whirl around, fear clenching your heart, only to find that it’s Agatha. 

She closes the door behind her and locks it. You’re so thankful it’s a single-person bathroom. 

Agatha advances and you step back until you hit the sink. 

“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses, trapping you against it by putting her hands on either side of you. 

“What do you mean, mommy?” You ask innocently, enjoying the way her dark eyes flash. Her hand comes up to wrap around your throat and a thrill runs through you. You’re sure you’re absolutely dripping now. 

“You were making eyes at that dirty waitress,” she accuses. “Looks like you need a reminder of who you belong to.” 

Before you can ask what she means, she flips you over so the sink is cutting into your hip bones and you can see the reflection of you both in the mirror. You look like a mess. And she looks like she is enjoying every bit of it. 

And then she grinds her front against you and you feel something hard in her pants. You watch your mouth fall open in the mirror. 

“You-” You don’t even have the words and the ache inside you is only getting worse. A smug smile spreads across her face as she reaches down to unzip her pants. Her other hand moves your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off.

She drags her strap-on up and down your slit, laughing cruelly at the way your hips move to try to get her inside. 

“Please,” you whine, feeling empty. 

She leans down so she can whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?” 

“You, mommy,” you say desperately and you let out a loud moan when she finally pushes into you.

“Be quiet,” she jeers and spanks you hard. You bite down on your lip to keep from moaning, but also to keep from telling her that spanking makes noise, too.

She sets a rough pace from the beginning, grabbing onto your hips with bruising force. You let out little gasps as she thrusts into you, over and over, already bringing you close to the edge. She reaches around you with one hand and starts rubbing your clit and your head falls forward in pleasure. 

Agatha pauses for a second so she can yank you back up by your hair. “Look at yourself,” she says, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror. She resumes her fast pace. “Look at how well you’re taking my cock for me. Look at how much of a slut you are for me.” When she calls you a slut, you physically can’t stop the sound that comes out of your mouth. 

“Mommy, please,” you pant, your entire body feeling like a livewire. “Wanna cum.”

“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum after making mommy jealous like that?” 

“M’sorry, mommy, I’ll be good,” you practically cry. You meet every thrust, eyes rolling back in your head from how perfect she feels. Your body is on edge from all the effort it’s taking to not cum. “Need to, so close.”

“Who do you belong to?” 

“You, only you,” you sob. 

“Good girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” 

Two more thrusts and a rub of your clit and you cum all over her cock. It’s explosive and you bite on your lip so hard that you taste blood. She begins to slow down as you come back down to earth and you rest your head against the mirror to recover. 

Someone knocks on the door and you freeze since your step-mother is buried to the hilt inside of you at this current moment. 

But she just sweetly calls, “Occupied!” and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly. She pulls out of you and you wince. 

“Wow,” you say as she helps you clean up. “You know I wasn’t flirting with the waitress, right?” 

She smirks and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I know, baby. I just couldn’t spend another minute listening to your dad talk.”

“Join the club.” 

You feel like everyone is watching the two of you as you make your way back to the table, but in reality, they’re not. Your dad is on his phone texting someone – you think you see a woman’s name at the top – but he quickly swipes out of it when he notices that you both have come back. You glance at Agatha just in time to see her eye twitching. 

“There you ladies are! I thought you had gotten lost. Everything okay?” He asks. You think you’re just imagining the condescending tone, but Agatha stiffens next to you so maybe not. 

“Actually yeah,” she says. “I’m filing for divorce.” You gape at her as she spins on her heel and walks away. 

You turn your head back to your dad, who looks back at you, dumbfounded. 

“Sweet pea-” he starts but you hold up your hand to cut him off. 

“No. Fuck you. You don’t deserve anyone.” 

And then you leave to follow Agatha, feeling suddenly like the weight inside you has finally lifted. 

[navybrat817]

On the Rocks

Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.

Except for Ari Levinson.

You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.

To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”

That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.

He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.

It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.

“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.

He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.

“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.

“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”

You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Like always.

“Don't need friends.”

It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.

Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”

You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.

“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”

Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”

He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.

So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.

For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.

As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.

And for once, you didn't want it.

By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.

“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.

You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”

Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl has gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.

“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.

Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”

“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.

“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”

You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.

“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.

“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.

You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.

“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”

Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?

A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”

You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“But-”

“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”

You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.

“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?

He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”

“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”

The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”

He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”

“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”

“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”

You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?

“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”

You bit your lip. “What else?”

His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”

“You like me?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”

Why do men do dumb things?

Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”

“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”

You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”

His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”

Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.

He smiled. “If you’re free.”

You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”

Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”

“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”

“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”

“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”

“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”

You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”

“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”

“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.

After all, he promised to woo you first.

How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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[tkbrokkoli]

look at my tags boy

[maryland-no-rabies]

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You can interact with a gimmick as a non-gimmick

As a tumblr user, you have anon powers. You can turn any/most gimmicks into a pretty princess by typing something like '*turns you into a pretty princess*' into their ask box.

Nobody will be mad at you for making a gimmick. At all. There are like, 4 Jesus gimmicks. And it's great.

(General)

Tag a mutuals post with '10k to me', 'future 10k', '10k', or 'this will have 10k' for some fun chaos :3

Submit posts to PM Seymour's discord for MORE fun chaos

(General controls and understanding of Tumblr)

If you are in a youtube video online, you have broken containment

If you are getting a bunch of notifications from a post, you can hold down a notification from it or click the three dots on the post and click 'mute' to stop getting notifications (other than mentions)

You can also filter your notifications by clicking on the top left of your notifications tab and tapping 'custom'

The 'for you' tab of Tumblr is what the algorithm thinks you'll like based on your interests and stuff

The 'following' tab is blogs and tags you follow

On Tumblr, you can add not only extra notes in the tags but also regular tags. Spaces are allowed

If you get an ask from a Palestinian blogger, check yourself (you may find places where it's vetted/verified in their reblogs. You can also tell by them having no photos/story at all [no name, no information, just a donate link], and scams commonly use photos from Google images. Be suspicious if there's anything other than GoFundMe or something similar. PayPal is banned there.) or send a screenshot to me/somebody who offered to help. Then, you can answer the ask so people who can donate can see it, or donate yourself. DO. NOT. PRESSURE. YOURSELF.

Tumblr has a unique punctuation, in a way. which you will figure out on your own. An example is. periods to show a slight. pause

It reminds me of poetry

You can post whatever you want and you will find your people

Block people who make you uncomfortable and report bots for spam.

Welcome to Tumblr

Do what you want forever

[generalsmemories]

Jing Yuan the... Lion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: how would the characters react when jing yuan somehow magically transforms into a lion (like mimi) for a day? x reader is ok!! - requested by @/ephemeralyae

✧ contents: humor, established relationship, fluff, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: i've noticed a certain pattern with my writing sideblogs, and that is the fact that i'll always get this sort of request HAHA. And in line with similar patterns, this will be the first post written in a headcanon format! i went the x reader route with just a hint on how characters would react (not that big of a reaction, moreso what they have to do in this situation) so i hope it was okay!

not beta-read again lmfao.

✧ He is as confused as everyone else with this situation. One moment he's sitting idly by his office, writing on his desk and the next moment he's left staring dumbfoundedly at a gigantic paw quite similar to the paws he squishes quite frequently back at home.

✧ Is the quick rundown you're given when you arrive at the Seat of Divine Foresight along with Fu Xuan and Yukong - having been frequently spammed with incoherent messages from Qingzu in the span of a few minutes.

✧ And although this very much is a serious situation - nevermind the mystery that the Divine Foresight is always absent from his usual seat, if he actually stays in this lion form for more than a day everything onboard the luofu will be behind schedule and he will for real be absent from the Seat of Divine Foresight because he's going to be taken in by the alchemy comission to figure out how to turn him back.

✧ And yet, as everyone is scrambling around trying to figure out a solution to turn him back and a reason to why he specifically was turned only - you're just left staring straight back at the lion with soft white hair and golden eyes who seem all to relaxed when staring back at you.

✧ Heck the tail is even comfortably swaying back and forth - even though he's well aware of the chaos he's caused.

✧ "... You know everyone in this room is in a disarray because of you, right?" a small roar that oddly sounded like his usual laugh, "... Yukong have to be able to discreetly send a message to the other flagships without even alerting anyone else in the Palace of Astrum, you are aware of that, correct?" you swear you saw the lion nodding his head.

✧ "... Master diviner Fu Xuan is going to have a lot more on her plate with this added problem, you agree to that right?" you ask once more, the lion only gave you a closed eyed smile.

✧ "Yanqing will be disappointed when you're not going to spar with him today, you've already avoided it for the past 2 weeks and you promised him today," the lion merely turns his head around, promptly ignoring you with a side glance of mischief.

✧ How can he be a scoundrel even when turned into a lion.

✧ "... Mimi would probably attack you the moment she spots you," you settle on saying. And somehow that information alone was enough for the once relaxed state of the lion to be in distress. Jing Yuan's once laid down form springing back into all fours - the sudden action making Qingzu who were still sorting out documents yelp.

✧ "... You know you could've tried saying you would leave him to see if he would react," Fu Xuan comments as the lion before the two of you makes his way over, "I think he would die on the spot if I said that, now how do we get him to-" you're unable to finish your answer back to the master diviner when you're suddenly pounced on by Jing Yuan.

✧ And as anyone would've expected, the much heavier weight makes you topple down to the floor with a loud bang.

✧ "... Did he already gain some feline traits?"

✧ You're unable to answer the question, desperately slamming your fist down on the lions mane before you're able to wriggle your head away from the amount of fur in your face, "Jing Yuan-" you wheeze, "I'm barely able to carry you while you're human, what made you think I can carry you when you weigh close to 200 kilograms?!"

✧ The lion seemed to not care, merely nuzzling his nose against your hair while making no move to actually get off of you.

✧ "... You know what, let's just call the healers down here and leave him here for the day. I have other business to attend to and Yanqing is already blowing up my phone asking where this idiot is," you say, tapping the lion on top of you on the nose before letting your hands tousle the mane, blinking in surprise at how oddly soft it was.

✧ "... On second thought I'll stay here until the healers come," you rephrase, continuing to run your hands through the mane, Jing Yuan seeming to purr in content at the excessive rubbing.

✧ So this is why Mimi is so content whenever you would excessively rub her everywhere.

og request here!

[waywardstation]

IT’S GIVEAWAY TIME!

I recently ordered a sample product with a high MOQ, and the samples all turned out well, so I decided I’ll be giving them away! Seven participants will each win a pair of these snack bag charms!

TO PARTICIPATE:

simply reblog this post with the hashtag #wsgiveaway2024

That’s it! Make sure to use that hashtag! I will not count it otherwise!

RULES:

One Reblog = one entry. Only one entry per person. Any additional reblogs will not be counted. Please do not create more entries with sideblogs either.

This giveaway ends on August 15th, 11:59pm PST. That is a week! Any entries made after this time will not be counted. I suggest reblogging this now and not waiting!

I will announce winners as soon as possible in a post after August 15th. I will randomly select winners by putting participants into an online wheel decider website, and spin it seven times.

⚠️this is your chance to get both of these keychains for free, but they will also be for sale as preorders in my shop late August/Early September!

This is my first giveaway, and I am very excited to do this with all of you! Looking forward to seeing how this goes!

[hotmencoreplus]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 ‘𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭’ 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Simon Riley x sister!reader (she/her)

Summary: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, the infamous, relentless and fearless Task Force 141 soldier. And the particulars of him being the guardian of his baby sister.

Warnings: Talks of war and deployment, mentions of a traumatic childhood, language. Attempted to do it chronologically, but have added bits here and there

Word count: 3300+

A/N: Basing this off the theory that he is mid 30’s in mw2.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this sideblog @hotmencoreplus for the account, @hotmencore

‣ Simon wasn’t at all prepared to be an older brother, but when he saw you, he knew it was his job to protect his little baby sister.

‣ You were the only one who was fortunate enough to not be killed by Washington, so when Simon was made aware of your survival, he took you in as his own.

‣ He doubted himself at first, fearing he would turn out like his dad, but also didn’t want to abandon you like he had been as a child.

‣ He wasn’t experienced in any way shape or form with taking care of a baby, so most of his days when not on deployment consisted of him watching youtube videos and going online to figure out how to do stuff and take care of you properly.

‣ When on deployment, he left you with a trusted neighbour who he had known for years before. (I feel like this would either be like a man who he would call his ‘best friend’ when home, or an old woman who has kids of her own, that use to babysit him)

‣ He would spoil you the best he could, and make you as happy as possible, not wanting you to have a childhood anything remotely like his.

‣ He definitely still gets help off of google for some things. He isn’t really too good with knowledge on ‘girly’ things.

‣ When home, you and him would always sit at the kitchen table of an evening, you playing with barbies whilst he sat across from you modding his rifle. As you got older, it would be the same just you with homework. You didn’t speak much when sat with each other, though it was always a comfortable silence for the both of you.

‣ Once when in primary school, you came home with a pout as you were jealous of your classmates pigtails and plaits, seeing that Simon only really knew how to brush your hair. So that night, he spent an hour watching videos over and over so that he could learn how to plait your hair.

‣ He felt stupid watching the videos, and frustrated that it took him so long to get the hang of it, but he knew it was all worth it when he saw the grin on your face the next morning as you looked at your hair in the mirror to see it all pretty and plaited.

‣ He also felt the same each birthday or christmas when you were little, worried that the little amount that he was able to get you wouldn’t be enough to make you happy. But 100% of the time, it was just him underestimating himself.

‣ When you were young, he never bothered to mention his own birthday. But one year when with your neighbour, you found out his birthday was a couple days after he came back from deployment. So you saved up money for the 2 weeks before he came back, and bought him a little teddy bear and a bar of chocolate. You also made him a little loom band bracelet, and haphazardly wrapped them up and hid them under your bed.

‣ When his birthday did arrive, you came downstairs to him in the living room, holding the parcel out in front of him. He lifted you up onto his lap, taking the parcel from you. “What’s this?” He asked, looking at it as he peeled his fingers from the cellotape of which you’d badly wrapped it with.

‣ “Happy birthday” you say softly with a smile, and that right there made Simon’s heart melt. He unwrapped the gift, and held the bear out in front of him. You looked at him eagerly, though his expression was confusing to you. “I hope you like it” you say with a slight hint of doubt. But Simon smiles at you, yes, smiles, and pulls you closer to him, placing a small kiss on your cheek, “I love it, thank you Y/N” he says, and the grin returns to your face.

‣ Simon had never felt more appreciated by anyone in his life.

‣ He let you off that one morning to share the chocolate with him, after eagerly placing the loom band on his large wrist, showing him that you now had matching ones.

‣ And he wears it everyday, even on deployment, under his uniform.

‣ And he still does to this day, years later.

‣ He also has a tattoo tucked away somewhere that he got for you, most likely your initials.

‣ When he first joined 141, Price was the only one who knew about you, and that Simon was the one who took care of you.

‣ He knew from Ghost’s files, as when he joined the task force, you were at the age where Simon wanted you written down as who was told when he died.

‣ You were at the age where it was harder to just pretend he never existed. Because when you were a baby, that was his plan. Before he joined it was your neighbour that was put down, just as a telling that you would need to be put in someone else's care.

‣ When Ghost requested the change to his file, he asked Price that someone could go over and tell you in person, rather than just a phone call, or his dog tags through the mail. Which caused for him to have to let Price know of your existence.

‣ He also asked for Price to tell Laswell, as he trusted her and wanted someone there for you who was in the UK more than he was, and in case both him and Price were on a mission/ far away.

‣ He also did it as he believed that you needed at least one female figure somewhat a part of your life, though you've only met her like once or twice.

‣ It takes a good amount of time and full trust in a person for Simon to be comfortable with them meeting you, or even just knowing of you. Which is why Johnny found out so randomly.

‣ You were late pre-teens when Simon was coming home from deployment, and got a call from his friend, apologising that he couldn’t pick him up from base. Johnny overheard the conversation and insisted that he dropped Simon off, though he was perfectly fine getting a taxi.

‣ Simon did message you to stay in the house, but you weren’t paying any mind to your phone, just looking out the window waiting for his arrival. Your own excitement blinded you to the fact it wasn’t the car of Simon’s friend dropping him off, so when you saw his skull mask through the car window, you jumped off the couch and ran out the door to him without a second thought. You didn’t hesitate in giving him a massive hug, which, though Johnny hadn’t pulled off yet, Simon reciprocated, as he knew there was no way of exactly hiding you now.

‣ It wasn’t at all that he didn’t trust Johnny enough, Simon just always felt awkward bringing it up and didn’t expect the circumstances of which he was in, so wasn’t prepared at all.

‣ Soap didn’t like to pry, but was curious and immensely shocked to see a young girl run out of his house and jump onto Simon’s huge frame. He knew it couldn’t have been his daughter as Simon would have simply been far too young for that to be true. So he made the conclusion of you being his sister, and tried to keep it to himself.

‣ Though on the next deployment, Johnny did ask about the young girl he saw, and with a grumble of a reply, he then understood that his guesses were correct. By then he trusted Gaz enough as well, so the whole of 141 eventually knew of Simon’s little sister.

‣ Simon keeps a little photograph of you in his uniform, in an inside breast pocket, above his heart. It’s a photo of you when you were little, the first year he put aside his fears, and took you trick-or-treating. You were dressed as a little fairy, grinning up at the camera, your face covering most of the shot as you leant forwards into the frame.

‣ You two don’t have any proper photos with each other, apart from one from when it was your birthday one year, and you told Simon that the only thing you wanted was a photo of the two of you together. So Simon begrudgingly granted your wish after a lot of convincing.

‣ In the photo, you are stood next to each other in the hallway of your home, you grinning with your short arms attempting to wrap around his large waist, and him stood looking emotionless with his simple skull mask on, his arm behind you resting on your back.

‣ It wouldn’t look sentimental at all to anyone else, but you treasured it. It stays on your bedside cabinet, with one of his old dog tags that he let you keep. You also have another old one of his attached to the zip of your school backpack.

‣ Simon never really decorated your room too much when you were younger, as he was new to the whole thing and decided that he would let you do it with him when you were older and found your own passions and interests. So first off for several years your room consisted of a small single bed, a wardrobe, and littles shelves for your toys, all of which he built with you sat on the floor of your room with him one day.

‣ But when you did find yourself and what you liked, you both spent a couple days decorating it. As it was just you and Simon in the house, you weren’t ever very ‘girly’ so the walls were painted a pale blue, and he bought you some new shelves and some fairy lights/ LED’s to hang up around your bed.

‣ When you use to get nightmares or just couldn’t fall asleep, you would sneak into Simon’s room, and wake him up so that you could stay with him. Although due to his own nightmares, was usually awake before you came in anyways. But there was something he secretly found so sweet about hearing your little feet try to quietly pad down the hallway to his room.

‣ He never minded, because he had nightmares all the time. Simon would never admit it, not even to his baby sister, but he enjoyed the nights where he would have her with him. Because in the long run it did actually help him fall asleep, knowing he wasn’t completely on his own.

‣ He had you.

‣ Due to him being away quite a lot, you have been aware of his job since you were little.

‣ Though when you got older, you wanted to know more about it. Simon didn’t really want to tell you much, as he didn't believe it was something he wanted his sister knowing about, but after so much pestering from you, he caved in. You learnt about his callsign, and how he always wore the skull mask.

‣ Once meeting Soap properly, he was the one to tell you about how infamous your brother really was on the field.

‣ You found it pretty cool that you were one of the only people in the entire world who new what the Simon Riley truly looked like, and secretly took pride in it.

‣ You have always known Simon with and without his mask, so it never feels weird. He rarely wore it when you were a toddler, though when you were first born he mostly kept it on, scared his scars were gonna frighten you.

‣ But the first time he took it off in front of you, you babbled and giggled, and reached out to his face. So from then on, he didn’t bother wearing it around you.

‣ There was one occasion when he came to pick you up from a neighbours after almost a year long deployment, and you were shy with him. It hurt Simon a bit, and made him feel guilty for not being there, and that you had grown so much in the time he was away. But the feeling soon melted away once your neighbour gave you a little push from behind their leg, you softening in Simon’s touch as he held you close in his arms.

‣ His teenage years were the most traumatic for him, so when you transitioned into yours, he became even more protective of you. You sometimes fought over this, and Simon felt bad, but you knew that he was doing it because he wanted nothing more than for you to be safe.

‣ When he bought you your first phone, he definitely made you have Life360 or something like it, so that he knows where you are just in case he needs it.

‣ He would never go crazy on where you were and who you were with. He trusted you. But when away, every night before he went to bed himself, or whenever it was late in the UK timezone, he would check that you were at home. It made him relax slightly about being away, knowing that you were safe.

‣ You were about 15 when you were properly introduced to the 141 team, as behind Soap’s teasing and pestering, Simon knew that you needed some other adult figures in your life. So, much to your own surprise, he messaged you asking if you wanted to come get him from base one time with his neighbour.

‣ You knew that Simon wasn’t really much of a physical affection type of guy, but you could never resist when he was coming back home after a deployment. And even less so now that you were able to come to base. But he also knew that much to his dislike for the public display of it, there was nothing he could do to stop you from doing so.

‣ And with that fact in mind, he knew he had to reciprocate the gesture, so when you did run up to him with your arms out, for a second he forgot about that fact the rest of the guys wouldn’t let cold old ‘Ghost’ hear the end of it, and wrapped one arm around you, lifting you up with ease, his bags clutched in his other hand. You practically squealed to him how much you’d missed him, as he mumbled back in your ear that he did you, too. Lucky for him the others didn't hear that.

‣ Once he had put you down, he very much awkwardly introduced you to the others in a grumbly tone.

‣ When you turned to them, the first thing that they all collectively noticed were your eyes.

‣ You had Simon’s eyes.

‣ Johnny’s hello was an enthusiastic “Good to finally meet you lass,” Simon glaring at Soap, aware of the amusement this brought him, knowing his lieutenant was annoyed as hell.

‣ Gaz nodded at you with a smile, and Price said hello in a deep but warm tone, looking on at you with an almost proud gaze.

‣ Price didn’t know what to expect when Soap loudly made everyone aware of Ghost’s new visitor at base pick up, as Johnny was the only one of them who had seen you before to recognise you as Ghost's sister, though they knew you existed (much to their inital surprise). But when you turned to the rest of the team without hesitance, Price instantly felt an even higher level of respect towards Simon as it was clear from your confident and polite hello that he had raised you well.

‣ Much to Simon’s own self doubt.

‣ One night when the 141 were all at a bar, Price quietly told Simon about how he had done well with you, knowing that he was definitely uncertain of his own worth in your life. But Simon heard the sincerity in his Captain’s voice, and with a quick look of appreciation towards John, he then didn’t doubt himself as much as he had before.

‣ Simon sometimes does mess up though with his language around you, only recently now that you have gotten older. But he isn’t too fussed, just as long as he doesn't hear you repeat any of it.

‣ Seeing that it is only you two in the house 24/7, you both surprisingly get on really well, and there have only been a rare few occasions when he has had to put his foot down.

‣ But these rare occasions would mainly consist of something silly to the point that he got sick of your nagging, like when you begged him to have ice cream for breakfast.

‣ “Please Simon, just this once-“

‣ “No, Y/N! You said that last time. Now drop it.”

‣ There have definitely been times where neither of you can sleep, and now that you're older, you both just sit with each other in comfortable silence. Occasionally just putting a random film on in the living room, but most of the time you would just be at the kitchen table, with a bowl of cereal at like 2am. That is until, and this is 98% of the time, you fall asleep with your head on the table and Simon has to carry you to your room.

‣ When you got to the age where Simon was comfortable with you in the house on your own, you once mentioned to him that the first day of him being away was always the hardest, and that it felt really weird in the house.

‣ You both knew he couldn’t do much about that, but he tried little things to make it somewhat bearable.

‣ For instance, he knows one of your favourite things is leftover takeaway from when you two have one, so the night before every deployment, he always orders takeaway for dinner so that there is always some in the fridge for you on the first day of him being gone.

‣ It’s the little things that Simon does for you despite his mostly cold heart that mean the most to you.

‣ On long deployments, you write Simon letters for him to read. You do message him too, but prefer writing them, as you know he will write back, which you feel is more sincere. His letters are never as long or heartfelt as yours, but you know your brother, and that he loves you dearly.

‣ His replies would often be a few sentences, praising you on anything that you would mention about school or just exciting stuff in general, signing off with ‘Simon’, and a barely noticeable ‘x’ next to it.

‣ You keep every single one of the letters he sends back, your favourites being the ones that he would occasionally send to you, first. And secretly Simon does the same, keeping your letters tucked away in his bag under his bed.

‣ He tells you unless its an emergency, that you should stick to letters or texts, so that he can still stay focused with his job and that if you do one day call him, he knows straight away that it’s an urgent matter.

‣ There was one time when you forgot about the emergency rule, and called him to tell him you passed a test you had been stressing about.

‣ He was about to shout down the line asking what was wrong and where you were until you beat him to it with a loud “I PASSED SIMON, I PASSED THE TEST!”

‣ “That’s amazing Y/N, but you just scared the fucking life out of me.”

‣ “Oh crap. I forgot, sorry. But I passed!!!”

‣ "Great love. I'm proud of you. But next time stick it in a letter, yeah?"

[pastafossa]

"Waking Nightmare" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)🌧️

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 7. Took an extra day to work on it cause this is a very angsty one, since our prompt was 'Nightmare' and I went with the classic, 'he accidently swings at you while asleep' trope (many thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires and @shouldbestudying41 for helping me with our chats on this one!). You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings for this chapter: BIG angst warning on this one, along with a warning for being hit (not intentional), nightmares, guilt, blood, Matt's convinced he committed DV so that is discussed.

It began, like so many disasters did, with a series of small fractures. 

What started as a horrible week turned out to be the harbinger of a truly terrible month for Matt. Despite near-constant, frantic late nights of casework at Nelson and Murdock, the firm lost two important cases in short order. Both cases had been a long shot when it came to success, but that had done little to soften the blow to Foggy, Karen, and Matt—especially Matt, who’d made promises to client families that he’d been unable to keep.

Matt’s work as Daredevil hadn’t gone much better. A new gang had moved into the Kitchen and set up shop, staking out a territory drenched in blood, ash, and terror. Matt had thrown himself into that fight with the same determination that he always did, and while he’d made serious progress breaking down their operation, there had still been losses. As far as he was concerned, the lives lost in the past month—the three targeted victims in the burning apartment complex he’d been unable to reach in time, and the two store clerks shot and killed in their shops before he could make it to them—were caused by his own personal failings. Despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise, the perceived blood on his hands had only driven him to devote himself even more ferociously to his work at night and during the day.

That devotion snowballed rapidly into a lack of sleep, often the first casualty in Matt’s life when things got stressful or busy. The exhaustion only sent him spiraling further into bouts of anger and a retreat behind his emotional walls. He snapped at you whenever you tried to talk to him about it, shying away from the kind touches he felt he didn’t deserve. While a quiet apology almost always came later in the night, soft and full of regret, it didn’t change the fact that you could see him beginning to splinter and crumble beneath the pressure he’d placed on himself, your Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. You’d gone through this with him before, the periods in which it all seemed to go wrong and he refused to strap on the lifevests you stubbornly threw to him over and over again. As best you could tell, when these storms came there was no other option but to simply plant your roots deep and ride it out with him, ensure he knew he wasn’t alone. And when he finally fell to pieces, giving beneath the weight, you’d make sure he had a loving hand to help him glue his bloody, broken pieces back together. 

You’d thought that fracturing would come from something on the streets. Another death, maybe, or sheer exhaustion. 

You’d never expected it to happen here.

Not at home. 

“You’re going out?” You watched him dig through his father’s trunk for his suit, his back to you. He’d only just returned from another late night at the office. The only reason you were seeing him at all was because you’d woken up thirsty, heading out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The distance between you both abruptly felt so much farther than a meager ten feet, so much harder to cross. Still, you tried. “It’s almost two. Some rest might—” “Don’t,” he said tightly, yanking his mask out and tossing it back onto the couch. He pulled out the rest of his suit next along with his billy clubs. His movements were unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. “I need to…” He sucked in an uneven breath, reaching up to run an exhausted hand through his dark hair.  After a moment, he dropped his hand, going back to what he’d been doing. If anything, your implication had only made him more determined, his voice now resolute and closed off. “Our appeals aren’t going well. The city’s quiet for the first time in a month, but that might not last. I need to go out. Just for an hour or two. Go back to bed.”

You gnawed on your lower lip in thought as he stalked over to the couch. Without his shirt, it was so much easier to see the lines of stress and tension cutting their way through him like winding roads, his muscles drawn up tight and hard. The bruising along the canvas of his back and ribs stood out with every neon flash of the billboard beyond the windows, adding a layer of blood red to the spiraling waves of deep blue and sullen indigo painted on his skin. That he’d been hurt even with the protection of the suit told you just how bad it had gotten out there. He needed rest, desperately. You both knew it. But you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to keep him here, forcing him to listen to the sounds of the city without being able to do anything about it. It was a promise you’d made to yourself, once, and you intended to keep it.

“Ok, D.” You kept your tone gentle. He’d hear you even across the room. “Ok. Come back safe.”

Some of his tension eased at your agreement, and he slowed where he’d been opening up his suit, preparing to step into it. Had he really thought you’d fight him? 

“I…” He shook his head after a moment. He turned until you could see him in profile, that same red light now highlighting the dark, bruised shadows beneath his eyes. But for just a moment, there was the barest softening in his expression, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. You knew this look, this hand stretched out through the bars of the darkened prison cell he’d found himself trapped within. “I love you,” he said softly. “So much. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. Don’t worry about me for now. We’ll work it out. Just be careful tonight.” You tilted your head as he took a few tentative steps towards you. You took your own small step, cautious like you were approaching a stray who might run if you moved too quickly. He lifted his hand once you were within reach, the back of his fingers stroking lightly, tenderly against your cheek. You turned and brushed your lips fondly against his fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as you soaked in the warmth of his skin. It was the most intentional touch you’d gotten from him in a week, outside those moments in his sleep when he held you close, and god, were you grateful for it, something in you easing at the return of his affection. It meant he was coming out of this, swimming back up to the light and out of the void he’d been lost in. Sometimes you wondered if him denying himself your touch wasn’t just another way he punished himself when his darker thoughts seized hold of him. “I love you, too.”

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tipped your chin up so he could place a tired kiss on your forehead before he let you go and returned to his suit. His motions, at least, seemed more settled now. “I’ll be back in an hour if it’s quiet, I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you this weekend.”

You left him there in the living area, more content than you’d felt in weeks. Sure, the past month had been shit for you both, but you were coming out of it now just like always. You fell asleep comfortably with that knowledge, cradling it inside you against your heart as you drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what it was that woke you later. Not at first, anyway. The bedroom was dark and quiet, save for the usual sounds of the city at night that leaked in through the closed windows. Matt’s arms weren’t around you, but it was possible he hadn’t gotten back yet. Without any other signs of danger, you gave a soft huff of irritation. Figures. Waking up over nothing. You shifted your head around on the pillow until you found a nice cold spot, closed your eyes, and began to drift back off. 

Then you heard it again behind you.  

Your brow furrowed, eyes blinking back open.

Right, now you knew it wasn’t just a dream. 

The sound you’d heard wasn’t quite a moan. It wasn’t a word, either. Hell, you didn’t know what to call it, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a happy noise, that much you knew. This sounded… almost pained, hitched and edged with something like panic. You blearily rolled over to get a better look, still half-asleep.

Apparently Matt had gotten back while you were asleep, the shadowy outline of him curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He was also facing away from you, which was… odd. Most nights, he slept with you in his arms—or him in yours on particularly bad nights. That he’d either consciously or unconsciously placed this much distance between you would have stirred the smoldering embers of worry if you’d been more awake. It wasn’t right that he was over ther, curled in on himself, small and isolated, a lonely island in the sea of silk sheets. As you watched, he twitched restlessly, before making that same small, pained noise you’d heard before. Or was it scared? 

Nightmare, you thought sleepily. That explained the distance. He’d probably just rolled away in his sleep. You yawned, untangling yourself enough from your cocoon of blankets that you start crawling over towards him. Clearly this was one of those nights when he was the one that needed to be held. You weren’t entirely sure why your presence helped to soothe his nightmares, but for whatever reason, your arms around him and your breathing against his back, your heartbeat pressed against his back, was often all he needed. Even if he woke up when you got over to him, he’d have an easier time falling back asleep with you holding him. He always did. Especially after such a terrible month. 

You yawned again when you finally settled down behind him, throwing one arm over his waist and spooning affectionately up against his back. He stirred slightly at that, his body going tense and hard, his chest resonating with a soft growl. But he quickly quieted, soothed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s ok, Matt,” you said sleepily, breathing slowly, intentionally against the hard line of his back. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” You tucked your legs up behind his, nuzzling over onto his pillow, hunting for him even as your eyes fell shut again. You’d kick yourself later, for what you did next. 

Without thinking, you leaned in… and brushed a firm kiss against the back of his neck. 

Just like that, the peace, the calm was shattered. 

A wild snarl filled the air, followed by a sudden, blinding explosion of pain across your face that lit up the black behind your eyes like a skyline of fireworks. Before you could even cry out, you’d been thrown clear of the bed. You only just avoiding cracking your temple on the corner of Matt’s nightstand. But what your head missed, the rest of your body didn’t. As you slid across the nightstand and came crashing to the ground, you brought down every last object on the nightstand with you, glass and metal shattering somewhere far away from where you were, the whole of the world gone thick and quiet. 

Things got fuzzy then, a sickening carnival maze of light spinning in your vision every time you blinked. Your dazed thoughts were thick, slow to come together. But, still, you tried, because something was very, very wrong. 

Matt. 

Yes. You needed to find Matt. He was probably out on the streets still. It was the only way someone could have broken in just to hit you like an asshole. You weren’t sure where you were crawling too exactly, but away from the threat felt like a good start. As you moved, something hot and wet began to pour down your face in steady streams, irritating and coppery whenever it made it into your mouth. Fortunately, that was a distant problem. You could worry about whatever was on your face later. Your only concern at the moment was holding your attacker off until Matt could get here and kick some fucking ass. 

A pair of feet slammed against the floor, someone calling out, panicked and frantic. The sound was far too garbled for you to understand it immediately, but what it did tell you was that your attacker was still close by. There wasn’t anything around you that you could easily use to defend yourself, or at least, there wasn’t until your hand bumped into something long and metallic. You snatched it up, ignoring the sudden appearance of pain in your palm as you did so. You dragged it with you, metal squealing across the floorboards as you scrambled on your hands and knees. In seconds, you’d made it out of the bedroom and into the living area. 

Good. When Matt came through the rooftop door, he’d have less distance to cross to get to you. You’d also be able to see your attacker better in the flash of the billboard lights, though the flashing sea of red light made your eyes water and burn. But you could also feel your vision clearing, which was great. You’d need it. 

A shaking, trembling hand brushed against your shoulder. 

You rose up swiftly on your knees, metal rod clutched tight in both hands. “Get away from me!” you snarled, putting every last ounce of strength you had into your motion as you twisted and swung. 

And Matt—

What?

—snapped his hand up, catching the lamp rod just before it could hit him in the face. 

“...Matt?” you asked shakily, unable to hide your confusion. “It was you?”

“This can’t be happening, no, no no no,” he choked out tearfully, his breath coming panicked and wild. His tone was so ragged you almost didn’t recognize the voice as his. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re bleeding, I-I’m sorry, I’m so—”

The lamp rod fell from your paired grips. Hands shaking, he brought them up tentatively towards your face. He stopped just before he could touch you, hovering them a breath away from your skin. The first of his tears began to trail down his cheeks, his expression twisting in what you alarmingly recognized as grief. You’d seen him cry before, but never like this. “God, I-I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

He was… apologizing. But that didn’t make sense, no matter how much you tried to force the idea to settle into your dazed mind. It couldn’t have been Matt. You weren’t afraid of Matt. Matt didn’t hurt you. He didn’t hit you. Those were facts, as irrefutable as gravity, as reliable as the rise and the fall of the sun. You didn’t understand, just like you didn’t understand why he wasn’t holding you. He always did when you were hurt. “You… you hit me?”

The low, agonized noise he made was inhuman. It was the sound of a wounded animal, of someone who’d just been carved open. His hands drew back from your face, dropping down towards your hands where they’d settled on your thighs, though he seemed just as hesitant to touch you there. Tears dripped down from his face, joining the droplets of thick, deep red now scattered across the floor. Had you left all fo that there? You really… were bleeding, weren’t you?

“I-I… I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hitching with what was almost a whimper. He grabbed one of the blankets off the chair next to him, the one you loved to curl up under with him. He slid it as gently as he could around one of your hands—oh, you were bleeding there, too, just a little, goddamn cheap lamp—though he avoided allowing his skin to brush against yours. “I was… having a nightmare, and I thought-I thought you were someone else, they had you and I was trying to-to get to you but someone grabbed me and I—God, you have a concussion, your nose is-is bleeding. I have to call Claire, get away from you b-before I… I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

Finally, the idea settled into your mind, the world abruptly righting itself. 

The nightmare.

Well, that made sense.

You still weren’t quite thinking right, thoughts thick and fuzzy like wisps of cotton, a massive, throbbing ache in your head and face that only got worse every time the billboard lit up. But you you’d been right. Matt didn’t hit you. He hadn’t hit you, because he hadn’t known it was you. Hell, he’d even apparently been trying to save you, at least in his nightmare. It seemed simple enough to you, an obvious accident. But it didn’t seem quite so simple to Matt. You reached for his cheek. “Matt,” you soothed, your words only a tiny bit slurred as he sniffled and wrapped the blanket tighter around your hand, applying firm pressure to stop the bleeding. “It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t mean it.”

But the second your fingertips brushed against his skin, he threw himself backwards and out of your reach, his dark eyes wild. “Don’t!” he spat.  You faltered just a little, suddenly unsure. But you quickly shook it off, shakily climbing to your feet to follow after him. Your own injuries felt secondary in that moment, because this… this was the wound, the disaster that might do you both in if you didn’t find some way to stop it. Your bloody nose and hand could wait. “You didn’t mean it, Matt. It was an accident.” 

For every step you took forward, he took one back, the two of you performing some twisted, heartbreaking sort of dance across the floor. Eventually you cornered him against the wall, hemming him in. He was almost shaking as you stepped in close. Your hand rose and this time around, you successfully managed to cup his jaw, trying to press your affection, your calm into his skin. “Easy, Devil-Man. I’m ok,” you murmured. You swiped one thumb over the trail of tears sliding down his cheek, a new one appearing each time you’d cleared away the last, an endless stream of them falling from his grief-stricken eyes as they darted sightlessly around you. “This wasn’t your fault. Help me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk about it, ok?” 

He hitched a soft, quiet breath when you tugged his head down, his forehead pressed to yours like he’d done for you so many times before. You breathed with him for a moment, trying to ease him down.  He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed as you stroked your thumb against his cheek, and for a moment, you almost thought you’d managed to fix it. 

A breath. 

His jaw clenched, and your heart sank.

This time when his eyes opened, all traces of warmth in them were gone. Whatever door you’d once pried open was now shut, slammed resoundingly in your face. “No. It’s not ok.” He brushed your hand away, sliding out from between you and the wall without so much as a pause. He reached up to wipe away his tears, the motion sharp and edged with tension. “Where are you going?” “I need to call Claire to come look you over,” he said flatly, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll use my burner. Mine was on the… the nightstand.” The brief crack in his voice, a brittle chip in the armor he’d just tried to throw up around himself, only confirmed what you’d hoped you could avoid.

“Matt,” you said softly. “Don’t lock me out like this.”

He may have been aiming for calm but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling, not entirely anyway. Not when his hands were still trembling as he felt around on the kitchen counter, acting like he hadn’t heard you. “I’ll call Foggy, too. Once they’re here, I’ll go.” 

“What?” You watched in disbelief as he kept hunting along the counter. With every second that passed and he failed to find it, he grew more frustrated, more angry. He quickly turned his back to you, body stiff like he was expecting a sudden blow. “You’re you’re leaving me?” “I hit you,” he spat viciously, another seething wave of emotion bubbling up through the cracks of his voice like acid, bitter and toxic and just as liable to burn. Here it was, here it was: the self-loathing, the disgust, the burning hatred. He drew in a sharp breath, shivering as he did. And on the exhale, he seemed to have regained control. His voice rapidly returned to that same cold, emotionless monotone, though he kept his face out of your view. Whatever expression he had would give him away, you were certain of it. “I almost broke your nose. You have a concussion. You cut yourself trying to get away from me. I’ve put men in the hospital for a lot less. You’re not safe with me—”

“That’s horseshit,” you huffed, starting towards him on wobbly legs. You had to stop and grab one of the chairs just to keep your balance and halt you from pitching over onto the floor. Not that it was a concern; no matter how upset Matt was, he’d catch you. But still, you falling would only make things worse. You forced yourself to breathe through the roiling in your stomach, unsure if it was the concussion that was making you nauseous or simply the knowledge that he was trying to leave you. But you wouldn’t let those fucking voices in his mind—ones that probably sounded like Stick—drive him away from you. Not without a fight. At least your nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. “It was an accident. We both know it. This just—it happens something with nightmares, including non-vigilantes, Matt. I’ve woken up scared and smacked you in the face more than once, and you know it.” 

“You didn’t throw me across a nightstand or give me a concussion.” He barked out a bitter laugh. The hateful sound filled you with dread, as did the heartbreaking resolve beneath it. He’d already made up his mind, convinced himself of what he’d done. “I always knew. That’s what they all said. That I was cursed. That I had the Devil inside me. That all I wanted was to hit someone. This is who I am. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down, I knew. And now I hurt you. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means I have to leave to keep you safe.” 

“Matt,” you said desperately, managing to make it to the couch, bracing yourself against the arm of it. If you could just get to him, you could fix this. You knew that. “That’s not true. Let’s just talk about this.”

Matt ignored you again, snatching up his keys and starting towards the hall. “I can’t find my burner,” he said. That tone, flat and empty of all feeling, was so much worse than anger. You’d take anger any day—you’d take grief, or hurt. Emotion meant you had a way in, that he’d opened himself to you, baring all the parts of him left vulnerable and raw. This tone, though…You couldn’t help but feel like you were banging your bloodied fists against a door abruptly chained shut. “Keep pressure on your hand. I’m going next door to ask for their phone so I can call Claire. I’ll only be gone for a minute, then I’ll be back. I’ll find somewhere else to stay once she’s here to take care of you.”

No. 

No, he couldn’t leave you over an accident. Your heart rate shot up, rattling against the lump in your throat. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe, panic crushing your lungs in their grip, something that made him him stiffen. And you-you couldn’t let him leave, not like this, not when he might not come back. There had to be something, some way to reach him and keep him from destroying, burning down the best thing in both of your lives. And there was only one method that might work in a moment like this.  

Holding up a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. 

And Matt… froze in the hall, a mere three steps from the front door. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, more firmly now. You didn’t bother to hide the waver in your voice. You drew in a slow breath, exhaling just as slowly. It wasn’t blood running down your face, now, and he’d know it. “I’m sorry for scaring you. For touching your neck in your sleep. I know how vulnerable it is, and how you feel about it being touched by anyone other than me. I didn’t think about what touching that might feel like during a nightmare.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he growled, his shoulders drawing up tight. “They’re not the same thing, and you know it.”

But despite his objections, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t left yet. Hell, maybe he’d found he couldn’t. Not when you were injured. You’d take it if it meant you had a chance.

“Aren’t they the same?” You reached up with your good hand, sniffling a little as you wiped some of the blood off your face. “According to you, they are. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, right? Just that I did something that led to me hurting you. And this is hurting you. I can tell.” You choked out a wobbly laugh when he flinched. You used that break in his armor to edge closer, praying you didn’t stumble and fall, losing the ground you’d just gained. “Do you remember when I slipped and dropped that bowl last month and it shattered and cut your feet?” 

“That’s not—”

“I had to pick shards of porcelain out of your poor bare feet. I felt horrible.” Another step. Then another. “Remember when I smacked you in the face during my nightmare last January? Split your lip and everything.” You caught one hand against the shelving unit by the hall, taking a split second to breathe, more tired than you wanted to admit. “You told me those weren’t my fault. You even fucking laughed about your lip. But if this accident is your fault, then all those times are my fault, and so is this one, if you think about it. So I’m sorry, Matt.”  

“I hit you,” came his voice, trembling and uneven. You had a feeling those three small words were your target, spiraling on loop in his mind, their sharp edges tearing into him over and over again. His head slowly dropped, his body curling in on itself as you stopped a few feet away. He shuddered then, and without being able to see his face, you couldn’t tell if it was shame or just… hurt. “Don’t apologize when I hit you. I threw you across the room. I-I hurt you.” 

“Oh, Matt,” you whispered. You took another step, at last coming within touching distance where you might be able to reach him. “It was an accident, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t know it was me. But… but if you want to talk about hurting me, let’s talk about this here.” He stilled when he felt the first gentle touch of your hand against his back. Warm, unafraid, tender. 

“If you’re worried about hurting me, this is how you’d do it,” you said softly, trailing your fingers down the line of his spine with all the love you had in you. “By leaving, Matt. By leaving me here without you when I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. Don’t do that to me. Please.” This time the sound he made was a broken sob, one hand rising up to fist in his hair. He sank slowly to the ground. You sank with him, winding your arms tight around him as he finally broke, shattering beneath the weight of his guilt. When he didn’t reject your touch, you quickly shifted around him, climbing into his lap. His arms found their way home around your waist, clinging to you tight as you rocked him in your arms, his face buried against your neck, tears flowing hot to join the blood still clinging to your skin. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with sorrow, each breath one he had to fight for.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry—” “Listen to me. This was not your fault. I promise, baby,” you whispered, lifting his head to press your forehead to his like you had before. His eyes were shut, but they fluttered open just for you, as he finally, finally let you back in. You could almost see the torment swirling in them, the guilt, but that was alright. If you could see those shadows, you could fight them. “You were asleep, Matt. You were dreaming. You can’t control what your brain does then. If it thinks there’s a threat, it’s going to react without your input. Do you know how I can be so sure you won’t hurt me? How this all just proved I’m safe with you?” His blank gaze shifted around you, one shaking hand coming up to trace your smile in open disbelief. 

“Because the second you woke up, you were horrified.” You leaned into him, running the fingers of your good hand through his hair as he let out another shaky, breathless sob. “The second you woke up and realized it was me, it just broke you. You would never choose to hurt me, Matt. You're not a violent person, even if you've been taught to use it out there. A bad man doesn’t react like you did. A good man does. You are a good man, do you hear me? And if you leave?” You found his hand with your good one to lace your fingers together and squeeze, his eyes fluttering closed, as did yours. “I swear to God I’ll go stand in an alley in my pajamas and scream that until you have to come protect me from every mugger in the Kitchen. Which will only prove my point that you’d never let anything or anyone hurt me.”  He choked out a quiet, watery laugh, letting you bring his head back down to your throat. His tearful groan at the affection just made you cling to you tighter. “I love you,” he hitched out. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. God forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not your fault. Don’t let your nightmare knock us out this easily. Get back up. Stay, and fight for me, for us. Can you do that for me?”

You felt his eyes fall closed, and for the first time since he’d woken up, you heard a different kind of resolve in his voice: one that was far more familiar, far more welcome, solid and warm and steadfast, a strength you’d happily build your life upon, as he let your love seep in through the cracks to at last chase away some of the dark.

His breath eased out against your skin, soft and familiar. “I… ok. I can do that.”

“Good.”

[comic-art-showcase]

hello fellow comic art fans.

i am the goblin who runs this here blog. otherwise known as @jondoe297

i am extremely bummed that when i do come out and adress the followers of this blog directly it will be with this news. well. here goes:

Comic Art Showcase will indefinitely stop sharing our favorite artists' works until further notice due to the deal tumblr's owner is making with A.I. companies to sell data,enabling the theft of the works of the platform's users to scrape to train their A.I.

and here is a good article about what's going on

while for the over 5 years(!!) now that i have run this page and shared the love of comic art i am so passionate about,through ups and downs,i have kept this page strictly for doing so. not presenting any topics or ideas or even showing my own personality or linking my personal blog(even though i have been flirting with the idea recently. well i guess now is as good a time as any) i feel that if nothing else i have to use this specific platform i have,as it is,to address this topic as it is intrinsic and intertwined with this page's theme or activity. and i will not have it be an open buffet for these greedy corporations to scrape for data to feed the A.I. with which they seek to replace the very artists that i love and admire! even though it may be too late as we don't really know how long they've been doing this. well the inevitable came. and if this page is not deleted it will at least not be posted on for the time being. while we figure out what to do next.

in the meantime we can and have to all do what we can to fight for artists' and creatives' rights. if nothing else by not being a part of the theft and exploitation of them an their work. please do not use any generative A.I. programs for images or text. they work by scraping from databases of artists' and creatives' works without any permission,credit or compensation.

for now we can at least 'opt out' of having our content be shared with the A.I. companies in the settings.

keep in mind this seems to be only available on the web version and not on the app for now!

go to your blog settings from the corner here

ID/image description: a screenshot of the tumblr blog with a red arrow pointed at the options button. end description.

then go to 'blog settings'

ID/image description: a screenshot of tumblr blog settings with a red arrow pointing at the 'blog settings' option. end description.

then go to visibility. and turn ON the 'prevent third-party sharing' option. make sure to turn it ON not off.

ID/image description: screenshot of tumblr's visibility settings with the 'prevent third-party sharing' option turned on. end description.

and you have to do this for each blog and sideblog individually so make sure to do that!

and artists make sure to use Nightshade and Glaze to protect your artwork and images!!!!

here's a link to Nightshade

here's a link to Glaze

the best combination is to use Nightshade first then Glaze on your images.

Glaze creates a protective layer on the image to prevent A.I. from copying it. while Nightshade poisons the A.I. sotfware.

stay safe friends an i will see you around❤

[sageispunk]

What U Need (18+)

Kinktober prompt: exhibitionism (day 3)

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Teasing Joel underneath a table in a bar sometimes leads to getting ruined on the side of the road.

"Your hands trailed along the zipper of his jeans, fingers teasing his cock over the fabric long enough to make Joel Miller begin to fall apart right in front of you. Right here, in the middle of this bar."

wordcount: 2.5K+

warnings: no Y/N, preestablished relationship, age gap (early 20s + mid-40s), no-outbreak + no sarah, reader’s feeling a bit feral in a bar, joel doesn’t talk much at first, intoxication, teasing, exhibition/public play (no panties in public), over-clothes touching, cursing (obv), degrading language (he calls reader a “dumb fucking slut” at one point), unprotected p-in-v sex (WRAP B4 U TAP), foreplay, angry/horny joel, kinda desperate reader tbh, groping, joel gets a bit rough, the word “daddy” is used several times, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, CREAMPIE, reader has hair that can be gripped/pulled

A/N: follow my sideblog @sageispunklibrary and turn on notifs to be updated when i post!! 🩷

You were on your third– no, fourth cocktail since arriving at the bar with Joel about thirty minutes ago. Your body was so warm that you could feel your dress clinging to your skin from the light moisture. You looked across the table at Joel, who was silently people-watching as he nursed his second glass of whiskey. He looked so sexy tonight, dressed in a black crew neck shirt that was tight enough to show off the outlines of his chest and beefy biceps. He also wore the necklace you recently bought him for his birthday, a simple thin gold chain that you found that same night was nice to look at while he was propped up above you, pounding your pussy into oblivion.

The memory of that night began to play in your mind, making your body heat up even more. Your feet subconsciously moved around under the table as your thighs clenched, one of them bumping into Joel’s, bringing his attention back to you. “Y’okay there, darlin’?”

You looked into his dark chocolate eyes, and responded. “Mhm, just a little warm, is all…”

He could tell there was more but decided to leave it be, to your surprise. You could feel your frustration growing the longer you sat still in your seat. Then his phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up and let out a deep sigh as he began to type out a reply. “Work?” You asked, already knowing the answer. The only other option would’ve been Tommy, and Tommy would’ve just called.

Joel grunted out a ‘yea’ and set the phone back down. The lack of conversation had you feeling needy, not having seen him all day because of work, and even now at 10 o’clock, work was still getting in the way. You watched as he picked up the glass and knocked back the rest of his drink, the way his adam’s apple bobbed as the liquid slid down his throat had your brain feeling fuzzy.

You cleared your throat, deciding to down the rest of the margarita. Joel noticed you were finished too, and slid out of the booth. “Heading over, y’want another?” You nodded, making brief eye contact before your eyes nervously looked elsewhere. He lingered back for half a second, wondering what was making you act so strange, but decided to just head to the counter.

After Joel left, your neediness, horniness, whatever it was–it skyrocketed. Some part of you wanted to get up and drag him into the restroom so he could fuck your brains out in a filthy stall, but you knew he’d probably never go for it. Joel wasn’t a prude, far from it, but public sex wasn’t something the two of you ever got into.

Tonight though, you were feeling frisky and wanted to take some risks. Your booth was tucked away in a darker part of the bar, not many people were near you so you weren’t worried about being caught doing anything lewd. You briefly glanced around to be completely sure no one was watching, before slyly bringing your hands under the table, sliding your damp lace thong down your soft legs. Once you had the small fabric bunched up in your hands, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep a poker face. Excitement rushed through your system–paired with the alcohol, you were beginning to feel invincible.

A few moments later, Joel came back, both of your drinks in hand. As he slid back into the booth, he noticed the flustered look on your face and cocked his eyebrow a little. “Here ya go, baby.” His eyes were trained on your face as he handed it to you, the look in his eye a bit dark, calculating.

It turned you on, having no panties on in public, but even more that Joel didn’t know yet. However, you didn’t think this far ahead and you really wanted him to know as soon as possible, just to see what he might do. “Thank you, Joel..” You made doe eyes at him, taking in the way he shifted in his seat, obviously beginning to feel the effects of the brown liquor. “I missed you today, I feel like I don’t get to see you much because you’ve been working so much,” There was a slight pout in your voice, and it drew him in.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” His deep Texan accent paired with the petname sent a shiver down your spine, all the way to your lower belly. He leaned into the table more, face coming in closer and you could see the way his gaze kept moving back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “How can I make it up to ya?”

You mirrored his actions, leaning in on your left elbow with the side of your face in your palm, leaving only a few inches between both your faces. “Mm, I dunno, let me think..” You took this as your opportunity to sneakily find his hands under the table with your right hand, transferring the fabric to his hold. You innocently smiled at the confusion on his face while he pulled back to look at what you gave him.

“Wait don’t–” You chuckled as he almost brought the panties back over the table. Joel narrowed his eyes at you, trying to figure out what the hell you were trying to pull on him. Your eyes focused on his face, enjoying each expression on his face as he realized what he was holding.

He whispered your name, in a shocked but slightly dark tone, watching as you sat back in your seat with a big grin on your face. “What the hell do y’think you’re doin?!” He kept his voice down but the harshness remained. You could feel your seat getting wetter, your slick dripping down your thighs onto the faux leather.

With a shrug and another sip of your drink, you responded. “Just wanted to show you how much I’ve been missing you, is all.”

He was more taken aback than you expected. “By takin’ your panties off in the middle of a bar, like a fuckin’ slut??”

You leaned back in, faux innocence dripping from your lips. “I’m sorry daddy, do you not like it?” As soon as that word left your mouth, Joel’s eyes got darker, almost black. You had him. Your right hand snuck back under the table, finding its way to his crotch, where lo-and-behold sat a warm, throbbing, rock-hard cock in a tight pair of jeans. “If you don’t like it, I can put them back on. Might get caught though…” You slowly moved your hand up and down his bulge, finding pleasure in the way he struggled to keep his eyes open and stern.

“Seems you like it when I act like a slut, based on how hard your cock is for me right now.” You gave a gentle squeeze and smiled when he groaned, eyes fluttering shut and mumbling quietly. “Jesus Christ.”

Your hands trailed along the zipper of his jeans, fingers teasing his cock over the fabric long enough to make Joel Miller begin to fall apart right in front of you. Right here, in the middle of this bar.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He snapped out of it, eyes coming back up to meet yours with nothing but need in them. “Get the fuck up. Now.” You removed your hand, a bit thrown at the harshness of his voice but ultimately turned on and ready to do anything he asked of you. He threw back the rest of his whiskey and pulled out his wallet, as you sipped the remnants of your drink.

Joel threw down a wad of cash on the table before looking at you with a look that said “don’t make me repeat myself.” You stood, careful to keep your way-too-short dress below your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth at the wetness you left behind on the leather. As you took a napkin to wipe it up, Joel quickly stood up and roughly grabbed your arm to pull you in front of him, an effort to hide his huge boner from the other patrons. “Come on, sweetheart.” He gritted in your ear, letting you sort of guide him out the bar and to his truck.

For the past five minutes, Joel had been yelling your ear off. He was mad, mad that you would pull that shit in his favorite bar. Where everyone there knows him and his quiet but handy reputation. He was mad that you would risk fucking that all up ‘just for some dick.’

Like he doesn’t know the hold his dick has on you.

Anyways he shouted at you, driving about 15 over on the same dark road the two of you took to go home everyday. It didn’t bother you, really. You knew there was a chance he’d be pissed off, you were prepared. What was bothering you was the fact that you still hadn’t cum. You thought maybe he’d be mad and you would have the best angry sex of your life, right in the truck outside the bar, but nope.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening t’me?” His voice cut through your thoughts again, and you looked over, not even having to answer because he could read the look on your face. “Of course not, all you care about is your fuckin’ pussy. You probably can’t comprehend a goddamn thing I’m saying right now, can ya? Dumb fucking slut.”

The words he spit out at you had an unreal effect on you. The degradation had you sopping wet, surely soaking his seat. You tried not to squirm too much but you were in desperate need of some friction, you needed something or someone to touch you. Taking a deep sigh, you chose to not respond to him, focusing more on ways to achieve an orgasm without touch. Your thighs trembled slightly as they squeezed together, giving your clit a little extra stimulation. A breathy moan escaped your throat, catching Joel’s attention once again.

He didn’t comment this time, just glanced over at you with a look you couldn’t place. You saw him shake his head from your peripheral, but you paid him no mind, continuing your squeezing and looking out the dark window. Suddenly, the truck was pulling off onto some dark backroad that you’ve never gone on. Joel parked off on the side and cut the car off.

“What–” He cut you off. “Get out.”

You unbuckled, a bit confused but following orders nonetheless. Once you were out of the vehicle, you walked around the back where he stood. “Joel, what are we–” He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your face close to his, so that you could see him better.

“Since you can’t control yourself, we’re just gonna have to do this here.” His lips were so close to yours, you wanted so badly to move closer to feel them on your own, but his grip on you was tight. He tilted your head back with the fist in your hair, exposing your throat to him, other hand placed firmly on your jaw. When you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe along your neck, you thought you would combust.

“Joooeellll…” You cried out, almost overstimulated by the way he was licking and sucking on your favorite spots. He groaned into your skin, the sound sending a pang to your lower stomach. God, he needs you as much as you need him.

You brought one hand down to his cock–still hard as a rock in his jeans–groping and squeezing the bulge, pulling more deep groans out of him. He took a break from his conquest on your neck and chest, turning you around to face the tailgate of his truck. “Fuck, darlin’...you’ve been wanting this all night, huh?”

You shook your head. “All day, daddy.”

“Say it again.” He ground into your ass with his cock, and you pushed back, wishing he would just take them off.

“I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day, daddy. I want your cock so bad, I need it in me please, just fuck me please…” You rambled, desperately needing him to ruin you.

You heard his zipper open, then the shuffle of his jeans down his legs, and you felt as though you’d been lost in the desert for weeks and finally, you’ve come across a cold spring of water. “One more time for me, baby.”

“Please fuck me daddy.” You cried out, not caring if anyone could hear you, even though it was unlikely in this rural area. As soon as the last word left your mouth, Joel pushed you forward slightly, causing your dress to finally roll up to your waist, and slid right inside of you, the both of you groaning in unison. He pulled back out slowly, drawing a long wail of his name out of your throat, before he quickly thrusted back inside of your warmth. His long, thick cock stretched you out and filled you up to the brim, reaching your favorite spot with each thrust. “Fuck, baby, goddamn this pussy is so fucking wet f’me…” Joel groaned praise into your ear, one hand still in your hair and the other now gripping your hip.

You used the little energy you had left to meet his rhythm, throwing your ass back to him, occasionally receiving a hard slap or two. “Joellll, baby, fuck!” Those three words made up your only vocabulary for a couple minutes, until he got you right there, at the edge.

“I’m so close, daddy.”

“I know baby, I can feel it, let go f’me okay. Cum for me sweetheart, you got it.” The degradation from only a few moments ago paired with the sweet things he was now panting in your ear had you about to explode. One of your hands gripped onto the tailgate and the other went straight to your clit, rubbing as fast as you could.

All you could hear was your own breathy moans, paired with Joel’s deep groans and the sloppy, gushing, wet unity of your two bodies.

Your entire body tightened up as you tipped over the edge, finally getting that release that you’ve needed all day. You screamed out in total bliss, your eyesight leaving you for a few moments. Right behind you, Joel let out a longggg groan, crying out to you. “Fuck, baby I’m cumming.”

“Cum for me, daddy, fuckkkk..” You felt him pulsing inside you, filling you up until it was leaking out around his cock. His hips slowed and stuttered, eventually slowing way down, his upper body resting on your back. “Jesus Christ,” Joel panted, leaving a couple kisses on your back.

You chuckled, all of a sudden feeling very, very tired and blissed out. Joel left one last kiss on the back of your neck before slowly pulling out, trying not to overstimulate you, with his cum spilling right after. “Oh, fuck,” you shivered.

You turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders as he pulled his jeans back up, sloppily pulling him in for a kiss, needing to feel his soft lips on yours. He obliged you for a few moments, before pulling back and grabbing something out of his back pocket.

Your panties.

“C’mon baby, let’s put these back on and head home.”

AAAAAAH finally published, i know it's past midnight now its a little late (not if we count the west coast tho hehe). but my second post (and my first joel fic)!! so excited to share this with you guys, i rlly hope u enjoy it!! please like and reblog (and leave plenty of comments) if u do. feel free to send requests/suggestions!! <333

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