#grey chinos

[adibatex-blog]

WallFlower Women's Ultra Crop Mid-Rise Insta Soft Juniors (Standard and Plus

70% Cotton, 18% Polyester, 11% Rayon, 1% Spandex

Imported

Zipper closure

Machine Wash

23.5" cuffed inseam / 26.5" uncuffed, 9" Front Rise. Model is 5' 9" and wearing a size 5

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For more details visit here

[shellshocklove]

brat! | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel is having a brat summer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes, reader wears a dress, heels and lipstick but otherwise no other descriptions, use of pet names, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, manhandling, a little exhibitionism? fingering, choking, spitting, a little dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), cock worship, spanking, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), creampie, one use of the word ‘daddy’, no use of y/n

a/n: this was fun! and naughtier than i thought it was gonna be 💀 i’ve never written a reader so far removed from my own personality lol and i’m kind of obsessed with how this turned out. anyways stream brat by charlie xcx and happy reading! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Blitzes of red, green, and blue danced before your eyes. The beating in your temples in tune with the bass vibrating in your chest. Around you the faceless bodies moved in slow motion. The heat rose around you as the sweat clung to your skin.

You’re sure you’ve lost your friends. Well, not lost lost. They were in the dancing crowd somewhere. Behind you, the same ugly guy had been rubbing up against you for a minute too long. You knew because you’d tipped your head back once and his borderline bowl cut hair, polo shirt with deep sweat rings under his arms, and tan chinos, were not it.

His breath stank of tequila when he leaned into your ear, “Hey,” he slurred, “wanna get out of here?”

And that had been your cue to leave.

With a scoff, you turned around to get a good look at him. You’d sized him up, made a show of it, and laughed in his face. Then you pushed your way through the crowd, coming up for air by the bar.

The earlier buzz you’d been sailing on, had weaned off a long time ago. It had been last minute, you weren’t even going out tonight, just having dinner with your childhood friends while you were home for the summer. But then one of them had ordered shots for the table just as the last plate had been cleared, and soon you were at the club cruising on a couple of glasses of wine and a lousy shot. Not that it mattered, usually you ended up twirling some sorry man around your finger long enough to get yourself a couple of rounds, before you’d excuse yourself to the ladies’ room and leave with your friends.

Looking down the bar, you searched for tonight’s victim.

To your right a group of girls huddled around the edge, waiting for their own drinks by the looks of it.

Not them.

Down to your left, a boy with a face full of acne fumbled with his card as he paid for a round of beers. He didn’t even look old enough to be in here, but that wasn’t your problem. You had to hold back a laugh as you watched him struggle to figure out how to carry the five beers he’d ordered back to his friends. He ended up gathering them in a circle to wrap his hands around, and you’d seen this go wrong plenty of times to feel the pull of an amused smile on your lips.

When he’d vanished into the crowd, your eyes flicked back to the bar, to the man sitting there– and he was a man. Probably somewhere in his fifties you reckoned, but he looked gorgeous. A real dilf. Your interest was piqued.

You slid down the bar.

He didn’t look particularly amused where he sat at a bar stool, nursing a beer in his hands. Who sits at the bar in the club? He looked nice. Brown hair, dark jeans, and a grey t-shirt stretched deliciously over his chest. When you got closer you could see a flannel resting beside him on the bar.

Is this what older men wear to the club these days?

He didn’t seem to notice you as you sat down next to him – either that, or he ignored you. You kinda wished for the latter, it would make it more fun.

You gave him a few more minutes of silence, of your presence, to see if he’d say something to you. When he didn’t you asked him over the music, “Aren’t you gonna buy me a drink?”

You said it innocently, but like it was obvious and he hadn’t caught on yet. His head turned towards you, still unamused, but with his eyebrow raised.

Okay, you could work with that.

You didn’t say anything as he studied you, drank you in like you’d done to him from afar. You felt his gaze over your clinging dress, your bare shoulders, before they found your eyes.

Something tickled in your core, and you were reminded of how long it had been since you’d been properly fucked– fucked by someone who wasn’t some drunk guy at your college’s parties, but fucked by someone who knew what they were doing.

The man turned towards you; a smile tickling the corner of his mouth.

“Does that usually work f’you, sweetheart?”

You weren’t expecting his rebuttal, but you liked it. He wasn’t some boy who’d trip over himself for the privilege of being in the presence of you. The boys – they made it too easy – but this man would make you work for it.

Putting on your most saccharine smile you slid closer to him, “You looked so lonely over here– thought I’d keep you company.”

A scoffing laugh escaped him, and his head dipped, “’s that so?” His eyes found yours again.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you ignored his question, and brushed your heeled foot up the length of his calf.

“Ain’t ever been here before,” he kept his eyes on your face, his drawl pulling at the words and twisting up your insides.

“So, a virgin, huh?” you teased, and that seemed to amuse him.

“What– you’re here to pop my cherry?”

This time an amused smile pulled at your face. You liked this man. “Not without a drink first,” your foot slid down his calf, “what do you take me for?”

A bright sense of pride filled your chest when you made him laugh, filling you up with confidence.

“D’you want me to answer that?” he rebutted.

He didn’t say it with any malice, it was teasing and playful, and it pulled at the veil inside you. A genuine smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, “Probably not.”

“What can I getcha, then, sweetheart?”

“G&T?” you said, and bit down on your bottom lip coquettishly.

Turning away from you, the man got the attention of the bartender. You watched his profile, followed the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose. You decided then and there that your night was gonna end in this man’s bed.

“Sooo,” you sang, when you’d gotten your drink, “first time here, huh?” The man just nodded, before he sipped his beer.  

Not much of a talker, huh?

“You here alone, or? With the wife maybe?”

That pulled a laugh from him. “I’m here with my lil’ brother… bachelor party,” he shook his head, like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten dragged in here, “he’s gettin’ married next month.”

“Ah,” you nodded and took a sip of your drink. “So, where are you heading next? A strip club?” you teased.

The man just shot you an unimpressed look, and you thought about how you’d never seen a man look so out of place, ever.

“What? The wife won’t let you?”

A sharp huff escaped him, “Ain’t got no wife no more,” he said matter-of-factly.

You took another sip of your drink to hide the smile from forming.

Bingo.

“I take it you’re a man who does what he wants, then?” you said it innocently, and subtly slid your hand over his knee. His eyes caught yours at the touch, and you swore you saw something change in them.

You’d hooked him now, all you had to do was reel him in.

He turned his body towards you – he did it slowly, like every muscle he moved had been calculated beforehand. Then he leaned in closer, his hot breath huffing against your ear.

“Takes one to know one, ain’t that right?”

Under your skin, you buzzed, your heart beating out of your chest at the new proximity. You had to stay cool, play it off, act unbothered. So, you pulled away slightly, and turned your head to meet his eyes.

“What?” he challenged with a raise of an eyebrow, “Ain’t used to people talkin’ back?”

When you didn’t say anything right away, a smug grin coated his lips, “Yeah, I know girls like you.”

“There’s no girls like me,” you argued back, his confidence both pissing you off, and turning you on at the same time.

“Oh, but there are– Spoiled daddy’s girls who ain’t had anyone tellin’ them no their whole life. They do what they want, and play with who they want– I know a brat when I see one.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away, that infuriating smug grin not going anywhere. The worst part was that he was right, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“But you like that don’t you?” you challenged, “I bet you live in some sad house in a sleepy suburban cul-de-sac, go to the same boring job every day, and wish your wife never left you.”

A flash of hurt could be seen across his face as those last words left your lips, and you thought you’d maybe gone too far. A beat of silence passed between you, the buzzing beat of the club music keeping the tune of the tension building.

You were about to apologize when he finally spoke, “You’re a rude one, aren’t ya?”

His voice didn’t sound as hurt as you’d thought, and you realize he was playing your game. You almost had him.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged, hammering the final nail in the coffin.

“That depends on you, sweetheart.”

Outside the club, Joel (the man had finally introduced himself) leaned against the bricks of the alley as you fished a cigarette from your purse. According to your phone, your uber would be there in ten minutes. The fresh air had sobered you up slightly, exchanging the buzzing alcohol in your veins with excitement.

You didn’t know what you were in for.

Over your skin, you felt his gaze roll over you, and you let him look. Let him study your body filling out your sheer, white, almost see-through dress. You didn’t offer him a cigarette; he’d have to ask for it himself, or take it, if he wanted a drag.

“So,” you took a drag of your cigarette, savoring the first tar-y breath, before exhaling through your nose, “where are you taking me?”

Joel shifted his weight against the bricks as his arms crossed over his wide chest. “Whatchu call it? My sad house?” he said, his voice bordering on cold if it wasn’t for the smug smile covering his features.

You gave him a sultry look as you stepped closer, crossing one heeled foot in front of the other, slowly.

“Mmm,” you hummed, as you tilted your head with an uninterested face, “Sounds fucking boring to me.” Your finger climbed up his chest, eyes traveling from his chest to his face. His stern face gave nothing away, as you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke in his face.

Finally, he’d had enough. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, and tightened, before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. You let out an exaggerated huff as your body hit the bricks, your cigarette slipping from your fingers. He pushed himself up against you, and you couldn’t contain the satisfied grin on your face, pleased to have pushed his buttons enough to finally act.

“Oh, I’ll show you boring, brat.”

A rough hand danced up the side of your thigh and under the hem of your dress. Challenging him, you squirmed against the grip of his other hand around your wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, and he was so close now you felt his breath ghost over your lips. With a twist of your arm, he pinned it behind your back, Joel now completely in control, and a buzz of arousal spread through your body at the thought.

“You listen’ up now, and I’m only gonna say it once: you’re gonna do as I say, when I say it, and no talkin’ back, we clear?” His voice was stern, but his dark brown eyes gave him away; how they’d widened with lust, blown out and dark. Your panties already soaked at the thought of what he had in mind for you tonight.

“Yes,” you said playfully, biting down at your bottom lip through a smile.

“Yes, sir,” he corrected as his rough hand on your thigh slid closer and closer to the seam of your thong. “Good girls who do as they’re told get rewarded, you understand?”

You nodded, sucking in a breath as you felt his fingers brush over your clit lightly. He was testing you now, teasing you, and pushing your buttons. You felt like you were on fire, burning from arousal; it licked up your thighs and flickered bright in your core.

Where was that fucking uber?

“But you ain’t no good girl,” he snickered, sliding his hand past your panties, “teasin’ me– tryna provoke me,” he shook his head, and a slick sound of your arousal could be heard as he worked two thick fingers through your wet folds.  

His finger poked at your hole where it ached for him. The thick tension between you weighed heavy with arousal as Joel leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Imma have to punish you for that, baby, put you in your place.”

A gasp left your lips as he pressed two fingers inside. The stretch stung slightly, but you welcomed the pain, liked it. A satisfied grin blossomed over your face as he started moving his fingers. They felt so good inside of you, so thick, almost like a cock, and the way his palm rubbed against your clit– it gave you just enough stimulation to push you towards the edge of an orgasm.

“Look at you, slut,” his breath was hot as he whispered in your ear, “so desperate to get fucked.”

A strangled moan escaped your throat, and you couldn’t help but grind against his fingers to chase the pleasure he was giving you. The degrading words and humiliation only made you wetter. Joel couldn’t get any more perfect– so far, he'd played his part to the T.

“In your– fuck!” You moaned as the pad of his fingers brushed up against your g-spot. Just a little more now, and he’d have you coming on his fingers.

“Didn’t hear you, sweetheart, y’need to speak up,” he taunted, continuing the pace of his fingers.

“In your d-dreams, old man,” you tried to spit out, but the pleasure he gave you was taking over, making you stumble over your words.

Quickly, Joel withdrew his fingers, sliding them up the front of your cunt, giving your clit a slap, before he backed off completely. You gasped; face pulled tight in a disappointed frown.

“What the fuck!?”

And then he fucking laughed, fucking laughed at you.

“I already told you, sweetheart, only good girls get rewarded.”

He stepped closer again, his hand cupping your cheek while the other pressed the fingers coated in your arousal to your lips. “Clean up your mess, and we’ll see ‘bout that reward.”

Parting your lips, he stuffed his fingers inside your mouth. They tasted of you, a sweet-salty taste. You closed your lips around them, and sucked, letting your tongue tease around his fingers the way you’d tease his cock. “That’s it, good girl,” he grinned, and it sparked a small flame of pride in your chest.

When he was pleased with you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth. He let them glide over your lips, smearing your lipstick and coating your lips in your own saliva as a set of headlights illuminated the street. Then, he patted your cheek, nodding towards what you assumed was your uber as it rolled to a stop in front of you, “Go on, get in the uber.”

In the uber Joel was quiet, ignoring you as were forced to make small talk with the driver (you’d give him a bad review just for that). When you thought the small talk had been torture enough, Joel slid his hand up your thigh, resting his big palm right at the seam of your leg as he looked out the window. If your panties weren’t already soaked from what he’d done to you in the alleyway of the club, then they definitely were now as the anticipation only grew.

Joel’s house wasn’t sad at all. It was quaint, and suburban, but homey. Nice. No expensive designer furniture, but sturdy and of good quality either way. He had no rare art, but a decent amount of family photos and what looked like a child’s drawings. You stopped in the middle of the stairs to admire them. In one of them Joel looked as old as you were now, with a baby in his arms, in another he had his arm around the shoulders of another man who looked a lot like him, just with darker hair. His brother probably, the one getting married. The little baby was a little girl, and she grew up in front of you; birthday parties, first days of school, soccer uniforms. Your eyes landed on a photo of her in a graduation cap with Joel and the other man at her side, grinning wide with a college diploma in her hands. This man wasn’t who you’d thought. He had a family– a daughter your age. The wall of memories squeezed at your heart, made something inside you always kept hidden break forth–

“You comin’?”

Joel waited at the top of the stairs for you, his face pulled into a confused frown. You skipped up the stairs, happy to have left your heels by his door. When you got to the top, you pushed at his chest, “Just looking at your sad things.” With a roll of his eyes, he led you to his bedroom.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, but his voice was distant, the bite from the club was gone.

It felt like the perfect opportunity to play with him.

“No,” you blinked innocently, your eyes wide as you watched him unbutton his green flannel, “you’ll have to make me.”

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh, “I’m serious, sweetheart, I need to talk to you first.”

Talk?

“You can’t get it up, is that it? You’re too old?” you teased but sat down at the bed either way.

“You really are mean, aren’t ya?” His laugh sounded like a surrender. “A man wantin’ to be a gentleman and establish boundaries before he ruins her, and this is what he gets?”

Shaking his head, he walked closer, and cupped your head in his hands. “I plan on bein’ rough with ya, sweetheart, and I think that’s what you want too, isn’t it? Get fucked so hard you can’t think?” You nodded your head in his arms, the velvet bass of his voice going straight to your core.

“Listen’ closely– if I do anythin’ you don’t like, you say ‘red’ and we stop, and if you can’t speak then you pinch me, you hear?”

You nodded again.

“Words, baby, need y’to say it with that pretty voice.” His thumbs brushed over your cheek.

You nodded again, “Yes, sir… if I want you to stop, I say ‘red’, or pinch you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, “Anythin’ else?”

“Um…” Your front teeth caught on your bottom lip, “I’m on birth control– you can come inside me if you want.”

A noise rumbled in Joel’s chest. “Such a naughty girl,” his thumb brushed over the plump of your lips, “letting a stranger come inside her, huh?”

You nodded again, a wicked smile breaking against his thumb before you opened your mouth, and bit down. Not hard, just enough to pull a reaction from him, and you did.

Like a switch, the warm whiskey eyes faded into a deep black. The grip on your chin slid downwards, where it found your neck. He didn’t squeeze, but his grip wasn’t gentle either, holding you in place like a warning.

“You ought to treat me with more respect, brat…” he spat, his thumb digging into the column of your neck, “Apologize for your rude behavior.”

Against his hand, you shook your head to the best of your abilities, his grip tightening with your movement. You wished he’d choke you properly, make your head all fuzzy and empty– filled with nothing except for him.

“No.”

His face turned to stone above you, and you felt a giddiness flutter in your stomach.

 He didn’t like that.  

In one quick motion his hand was ripped from your throat as he stepped away. He didn’t look at you as he sighed, his hands falling to his belt buckle, sharp metal clinking.

Taking advantage of the moment, you admired the man before you. How big and broad he was. How his t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest, biceps bulging against the woven fabric. You studied his hands as they fiddled with his buckle, thought about how good they’d felt inside you earlier, the pleasurable sting as they’d stretched you out.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, voice cold.

When you didn’t move, he took matters into his own hands.

“Get. On. Your. Fuckin’. Knees.”

His grip around your wrist was tight, as he pushed you down. The hardwood floor dug into your knees as he manhandled you, sure to bruise tomorrow. He stood his ground in front of you, legs slightly parted as you were now eye level with his inviting bulge. He was big, and you felt your eyes widen. Even hidden away in his jeans you could see it, see the length of his hard cock strain against his thigh – it made your mouth water as you squeezed your thighs together.

“Look me in the eyes,” he told you, and your eyes flicked upwards – obedient for once. “Eyes up here at all times– Don’t you fuckin’ dare look away.”

He made it hard to do as he’d ordered, popping the button on his jeans, and pulling the zipper down. You wanted to see his cock, touch it, feel it inside you. He couldn’t possibly expect you to not look when it was right there.

"Disobedient slut.” 

The slap came quicker than the stolen glance, and your hand came up to graze your cheek on pure instinct. It stung under your palm, like a thousand little knives.

“What did I jus’ say?” He spat out the question, his hand gripping your chin to force eye contact.

“Look away?” you tried, your voice rising an octave.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he sighed, leaning closer, “I ain’t wanna hear any more of your fuckin’ attitude.”

His grip tightened on your chin and your mouth dropped open by itself, “Open your mouth– that’s it… wider, just like that.”

Then he spat, right into your mouth.

You flinched at the suddenness of it, but Joel’s grip on your chin held you still– kept your mouth open, as you felt his spit slide further and further into your throat. You had a feeling you shouldn’t swallow until he told you, so you didn’t, your head pliant in his hand as you let him study you. A wide grin spread across his face as he moved your head from one side to the other, his rough fingers denting into your skin as you waited for your next command.

“Swallow, brat.”

He let go of your face, and you closed your mouth, swallowing down his spit with an audible gulp. “Good girl,” he muttered and stood tall, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

The rough sound of denim against skin filled your ears as he freed himself. You were on your best behavior now, gathering your hands in your lap, sitting pretty for him as you locked eyes with him coquettishly.

“That’s better,” he said, “Actin’ like a proper good girl now,” he praised.

It took everything in you not to look, as he stepped closer.

With a fist tight around his cock, he brought the head to your mouth. He tapped it on your lips, smearing the precum beading at the tip and ruined your lipstick.

You wanted to taste him so badly, but he couldn’t know that. Pinching your lips together, you shook your head with wide coquettish eyes. His eyebrows pinched together in a frown, eyes narrowing at you as he pushed his cock against your lips.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, f’me,” he ordered.

Pretty. He called you pretty, and it was enough for you, you gathered, and stretched your mouth open for him.

“That’s it, wider.”

You twitched in surprise as he slapped the length against your tongue. It was heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixing with your saliva as he rubbed the head over your tongue, in and out, in and out – coating his big cock in your saliva, “just like that, baby, get it nice ‘nd wet.”

Closing your lips around the mushroom tip, you ran your tongue around it in circles, teasing the underside and the slit, before you tipped your head back. His cock bobbed in front of you obscenely, a frown formed on his face again and you knew he was about to tell you off.

Gathering a blob of saliva in your mouth, you spat on his cock instead. A low humming laugh rumbled from Joel’s chest, as he collected your spit and rubbed it in over his shaft in slow strokes. The spit dripped down, down over your front where you felt it darken the fabric of your dress. Subtly, you reached your hands behind your back to pull at the zipper.

“Yeah, that’s right, get those pretty tits out f’me.”

He let you maneuver out of your dress while he stroked his cock slowly in front of your face, and finally, you could get a good look at him. He was bigger than you’d thought from his bulge. Veins lining his thick shaft as you watched the way his fist moved up, massaging the tip gently, and down again in a slow, steady rhythm. At the base unruly curls of dark hair shone in the spit gathering, and you let your eyes wander downward to his balls where they hung heavy.

You wanted to taste them, too.

With your dress discarded on the floor beside you, you sat up slightly, spreading your legs and tucking your calves up to your thighs. Almost naked, safe for the thong splitting your cheeks, you arched your back slightly, making sure he got a good view of your ass.

A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest, and a hand came down on your head, “You want my cock, don’t you, slut?” he spat, slapping his cock on your right cheek, spreading your spit on your skin.

“Do you make all your girls wait this long or is it just me?” you tutted, almost rolling your eyes at him.

“There’s that fuckin’ attitude again.”

Slapping his cock harder against your cheek, he leaned forward letting a blob of spit drip from his own lips, coating both his cock and your face as he rubbed it in with his cock.

It was obscene, degrading, and you’d never been wetter.

In desperation to taste him again, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. The hand he’d used to stroke himself, wrapped around your skull, caging his cock between his hand and your face as he started thrusting against your face, his heavy balls rubbing against your chin with every slow push.

It was messy, sloppy, and wet. He held your head steady with his other hand, while he continued rubbing his cock over your cheek, nose, and forehead. His spit mixed with your own as you lapped at the underside of his cock; trying to taste as much of him as he’d give you.

“You dirty little whore,” he smiled, “You like that don’t you?”

Under him you whimpered, clit pulsing with want as he made you his plaything, did what he wanted with you.

“Yeah,” you moaned unabashedly, licking greedily at the underside of his cock.

At that, he laughed, and the grip on your head loosened as he pulled back. You only had time to take a deep breath before he stuffed his cock down your throat. It was abrupt, and harsh – the hefty length of him making room for himself inside your mouth.

You couldn’t fit him all inside, gagging as the head of him hit the back of your throat. He held you there still, one second, two seconds, three seconds. Your hand found his thigh where you tapped at him, and finally he pulled away.

You gasped for air, your breath wet with spit as small tears pricked at your eyes. His hand landed on top of your head again, grounding you to the moment as he searched your eyes, checking in.

No, you tried to convey, you’re not too rough.

Pleased, his cock bumped against your lips again, and you dropped your mouth open for him again.

“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting his cock back in your mouth, “let’me fuck that throat open.”

Dropping your jaw, you tried to make room for him in your mouth. It wasn’t easy, your lips stretched wide around the girth of him as you tried to calm yourself, to open your throat for him to abuse. His cock was easily the biggest cock you’d ever sucked, and you told yourself you needed to relax.

He pressed himself deeper, and you let out a whimper. “Work with me, slut, hold still.”

Trying your best to obey, you breathed through your nose, staving off your gag reflex the best you could as the head knocked at the back of your throat. His other hand cupped your chin, keeping your head still between his large hands. A tear rolled down your cheek when he rutted into your mouth, testing the waters.

“Good girl,” he praised, fucking gently into your mouth. Saliva gathered in your mouth, drooling down your chin with each thrust. “Such a fuckin’ mess– Look me in the eye as I fuck your throat.”

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping you steady as you locked eyes with him. It was difficult, tears clouding him in a vignette, but you did as you were told. He studied you closely, tested your boundaries, completely in control.

You gasped for air when he finally pulled back again. A wet string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. A proud smirk coated his lips, while his hand stroked your head in praise.

The small moment of relief passed quickly, and soon his cock was back in your throat, bruising it in a steady rhythm.

“Take that fuckin’ cock all the way down your throat, whore,” he spat, his thrust a little rougher now that he knew you could take it.

He had you at his mercy now as he ruined you. Ruined your throat, ruined your body, ruined you for other men. Tears mixed with snot, which mixed with spit as it ran down your chin, dripping lewdly onto your tits where it made a mess.

Over you, Joel rambled.

“Good fuckin’ slut.”

“Choke on that big fuckin’ cock.”

“You love it don’t you?”

And you did, you loved it. Joel made you feel useful for once in a life – a fucked up thought, but then again you never said you weren’t fucked up. Joel’s words were filthy and dirty, and as humiliating as they were he made you feel wanted.

You just wanted to be wanted.

Another gasp of air filled your lungs as he slipped from your mouth. His grip on your head was tighter now, his cock throbbing in front of you. As much as you wanted him to fuck you, you wouldn’t complain if he came down your throat. He’d given you so much already.

“Fuck,” he whispered and let go of your head.

You took the opportunity to catch your breath, sniffling as you wiped at the snot that clogged up your nose. His hand came down to squeeze at the base of himself, clearly staving off his orgasm.

“What,” you croaked, your voice hoarse after his assault on your throat, “you’re so old you can’t come now?”

His eyes darkened as they locked with yours, and a giddy bouncing feeling twisted in on itself in your tummy. You wanted to see what he’d do to you– how he’d fuck you, and if you’d have to push his buttons to see it, you gladly push the big red button.

His hand wrapped around your bicep, digging into the skin as he dragged you to your feet and pushed you towards the bed.

“Still a fuckin’ brat I see,” he spat, “We can’t have that can we?”

Putting on your best puppy dog eyes, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Who me?” you said innocently.

“Bend over, slut,” he ordered, his voice coated in a tone that said he was fed up with your bullshit. Strong arms turned you around, manhandling you, and pushed your front down on his bed, “’nd spread your fuckin’ legs.”

With a kick to your ankles, he forced your legs open. Tipping your head up, you locked eyes with your reflection in the window, like a camera lens capturing your ruin at Joel’s hand. He hovered over you, his eyes trailing over your naked body, laid out for him to take.

The first smack came quickly, hard, and brutal on your ass cheek. It made you jump, the muscles in your ass clenching as you tried to reel yourself in. Joel’s rough hand soothed over the burn immediately, and you turned your neck to find his eyes.

“I wanna hear an apology from you, brat,” he said calmly, one finger hooking into the lace of your thong.

You shook your head. Stubborn. “No.”

His head fell between his shoulders, while his finger hooked in your thong tightened its grip, and with a hard tug, he ripped it in two.

“Then I’m gonna have to punish ya.” He said it with a deep sigh, like he had no other choice.

You couldn’t hide the excitement that filled you at those words, your cunt now dripping with need. A need for Joel.

With the scrap of your thong now discarded his hand danced over your ass. You tried not to hold your breath, but he drew it out, and you couldn’t help it. The tension in the air so thick, you couldn’t focus.

Smack!

He spanked your other cheek hard, and the tension was released with a whimper. A tickling feeling of pins and needles spread through your cheek.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

They came in quick procession, your hands gripping the sheets for a lifeline as he put you in your place. Moans fell from your lips without abandon, and you felt yourself drip down your legs.

Smack!

“Look how wet you are,” he noticed, running a finger through your seam, “You like it? Only desperate whores like to get spanked.”

He leaned over you, his soft belly (when had he removed his shirt?) pressed against your back, coarse hair tickling your skin, as you felt his hard cock rub up against your sore ass.

“But that’s what you are, ain’t you? A desperate fucking whore.” His breath in your ear, had goosebumps erupt down your spine, and you sobbed out a whine.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered, and pulled away – taking his warmth with him.

Smack!

Tears pushed their way behind your eyes, not because you didn’t like it, but it stung like a motherfucker. Joel wasn’t all brutal, he rubbed your skin between hits, but fuck if it didn’t also hurt with pleasure.

“Say you’re sorry,” he demanded.

Turning around you shook your head, big wide eyes watching him as he spanked you again.

Smack!

“You’re tearing up, little girl– It stings doesn’t it?” he asked, voice laced with fake pity.

You nodded.

“Well, maybe you should be a good girl then– say you’re sorry.”

Smack!

“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, voice cracking.

Finally.

Joel stopped immediately, his hand twisting around your waist to flip you on your back. His eyes danced over your body, almost tenderly but still full of lust. His hand moved up and down your sides, down the thick of your thigh before they gripped your ankles and tugged.

A squeal escaped you as he manhandled you, his large hands cupping your face while he fitted himself between your legs. “Good girl,” he cooed, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You shook your head in his hands, popping your lip out in an innocent pout.

“No,” he cooed, removing a hand to fit between your bodies.

You gasped when you felt the head of his cock bump your clit, the first real stimulation you’d had since you’d left the ally by the club. Your hips bucked by themselves, chasing the friction of his touch.

“Who owns this cunt?” he asked you, dark eyes staring into yours as he dragged his cock through your soaked folds.

“You do, sir,” you sighed immediately, your whole body aching for him.

A wide wicked grin spread across his face, “Lookit you bein’ such a good girl– finally know your place, huh?”

With no warning, you felt the blunt head of him press at your opening, and then Joel pushed inside you. Your mouth parted in a gasp at the intrusion; eyes glazed over in bliss as you felt yourself get split in two around the girth of his cock. He was so big, filling you up inch by inch, a heavy pressure poking at the deepest part of yourself.

“There you go, baby– you jus’ take it. Take all that cock inside,” he grunted, eyebrows pinched tight.

All you could do was moan as you felt him bottom out inside you, “Shit,” you gasped, “So fuckin’ big.”

“I know, baby, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” he praised, starting to rock his hips into you.

He picked up the pace quickly when he was sure you could take it, splitting you open on his cock as he made you takeit. Under him you could feel yourself float away in the pleasure. His hand came up to wrap around your neck and a big smile spread across your face.

You felt so warm. Joel felt so fucking good.

He reduced you to a puddle, a puddle of pleasure and ecstasy. It was better than any drug you’d ever taken. Better than the first day of summer vacation. Better than anything you’d ever known. The sound of skin against skin faded away into a tranquil rhythm of pleasure. You belonged to him now, lived only for him and the way his cock felt inside you.

“Feel how deep that is?” he asked you, somehow having maneuvered your knees to press into your chest.

You couldn’t do anything other than nod, desperate and whiny. You needed to fucking come. Inside you, his cock bumped into a spot no other man had reached before, and a fluttering feeling coiled itself in your core.

You were so close now.

“Joel,” you gasped, searching for the words as he continued his pace, balls slapping hard against your ass.

“No,” he told you, teeth gritted, “You hold it, slut, you hold it ‘till I give you permission.”

Later, a thought of how he’d had you so close to coming without even a tap at your clit would graze you, but in this moment your thought were only filled with Joel. A hand found his bicep, you needed something to hold on to or you’d burst, and squeezed. Above you Joel’s groans and moans got louder.

“Hold it.”

Tears streamed down your face, as you heaved for breath. You were right there, right on the edge now.

Please, Joel, please, sir, please.

“Come.”

Arching your back off the mattress, you shook as you finally tipped over the edge of bliss. The sounds escaping your throat weren’t your own, they were someone else’s, someone possessed with pleasure.

A “Thank you,” fell from your lips, but you don’t think he heard you. Above you, Joel’s movement became more and more erratic, thrusting himself deeper and deeper before a loud groan vibrated through his chest.

“You take it,” he growled, “take all that fuckin’ cum inside.”

He slammed his hips hard against you, pushing himself as deep as he could inside you, and came with a loud primal groan. His cock twitched within your walls as he emptied himself inside your cunt, the warmth of him filled you up as he painted your walls with cum.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck, “That cum feels so good inside, don’t it?” he cooed, and you nodded, your hands tangling in his hair. He pulled back and thrusted inside you again, fucking his cum deeper inside.

He stayed inside you as you both caught your breaths. His weight felt good on you, you were safe, as you floated somewhere between reality and a space you’d never been pushed to before.

And you missed him when he pulled away, sliding his half-hard cock from your fucked out cunt, dragging you with him up the bed. You reached for him, laying your hand open against his sheets, but he didn't see it, eyes mesmerized by his spend dripping out of you. His fingers slid through the mess, pushing his cum back inside as his eyes found yours.

Then something in the air shifted, and whatever had come over you, was gone. His fingers left streaks of wetness down the inside of your thigh as he pulled away. For the first time in your life, you didn’t know what to say.

You were ruined now – he’d ruined you for everyone who wasn’t him.

You sat up, turning your head over your shoulder to watch him, watch how his eyes trailed your body.

“Smoke?” you asked, your voice more unsteady than you’d thought.

Joel shook his head as you slung your feet off the bed to find your purse. He sat up against the pillows resting against his broken bed frame. Your eyes raked over his naked body as you fished a cigarette from your packet; drank in his strong arms, his wide chest and followed the dark hair of his happy trail down his belly to his soft cock between his thighs, still coated in your combined cum. Between your legs you could still feel his thick spend leak out of you.

You brought the cigarette to your lips, and just as you were about to light up Joel’s rough voice spoke, “Out the window,” he ordered with a nod in the direction of the window.

Everything was back to how it was before.

A dramatic huff escaped you, “All right…” you muttered.

You felt too heavy– he’d messed with your head; made you show him the real you. He couldn’t see that. So instead, you put your mask back on, turning to face the window to conceal the mischievous smile threating to spill across your face.

“Daddy.”

Behind you, as you cracked open the window, you heard the bed creak. You played it cool, lighting your cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window.

Joel’s breath teased at the back of your neck and over your bare shoulder, making goosebumps dance down your spine, “Thought I’d fucked the attitude out of ya,” his voice was stern.

“Guess I was wrong.”

part two -> here!

i hope someone liked this? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[mathclassboyfriend]

color matching on point today

[egglain]

Letters to Santa

Rating: E (18+) - mdni Pairing: Nanami x GN! reader Content: dickcember day 4 - sexting, at work, desire

if there’s a prompt + character you want to see next, requests are open! send an ask :)

Nanami Kento was a hard worker.

He always clocked in on time, took his lunch at the same time, left his desk right as the clock hit 5.

Which is why this could not happen.

Mouth full of rice– part of the pretty bento you had packed him that morning– he had opened his phone for the first time this shift. 3 unopened message badges lit up his screen. This was always his favourite time of day; the moment he gets to hear your thoughts, to wish you a good lunch.

On his screen, at full brightness, he opened his text app.

hi <3

[1 image attached]

hope u like :) see u soon!

Nanami Kento was a hard worker.

As in– his cock had never been harder at work.

Fuck.

Thick, strong fingers typed a speedy response as white teeth worried the inside of his cheek.

Darling.

Fuck.

***

Taking a bite of your sandwich, you couldn’t help but grin at Nanami’s curt response.

Your handsome husband was perfect in every way– attentive, thoughtful, competent. The only downside? He was uptight. As fuck.

So to swear?

And at work, nonetheless?

You wish you could see him now– even if it was just as a fly on the wall.

yes, kento? <3

You finished your sandwich, calm as ever. You could witness him squirm all day without batting an eyelash– he was so easy to tease.

Five minutes passed; you put away your lunch, settling back in your rolling chair as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone.

Your lock screen lit up with a notification from Hubby <3.

[1 image attached]

Nanami Kento– your gorgeous, composed, responsible husband– was a nasty little freak.

The photo was taken from above, angled downwards in an industrial grey bathroom stall. A spotted tie was trapped between pearly teeth, chiselled jaw working the fabric. A brown leather belt hung open, khaki pressed chinos unzipped and pushed down blonde-dusted thighs.

Look what you did.

Nanami’s veiny left hand wrapped around the shaft of a pretty cock. Blonde dusted his abdomen, trimmed neatly to frame his pale, girthy base. 

Fix this.

Now.

Those eyes bore into yours through the screen. He wouldn’t take no for an answer; not when he was like this.

As much as you wanted relief yourself, you knew better than to scurry off to a bathroom stall. Nanami Kento was like a bloodhound; he always knew when you had satisfied yourself (in his words). He did not take kindly to the idea, much preferring to have you unravel on his fingers, tongue, or cock.

This was a test, of sorts– if you could stay strong, get through the day being good, your reward would be so much sweeter than any half-assed release you got from your left hand now.

so needy <3

As much as he played the role of a put-together, dominant husband, Nanami Kento flustered so beautifully under your subtle teasing.

[0:14]

A voice note popped up on your screen. Fumbling for your earbuds and triple checking they connected, you hit play.

Through heavy breaths, soft grunts punctuated the rustling of what you presumed to be his arm– if the soft plaps were anything to go by.

aww,,, touching yourself, bby? 

at work? 

u just wanna get found

Somewhere across the city, a very red Nanami Kento fucked his fist harder.

[0:32]

This time, it was a video.

The breaths were louder. It was taken low, clearly filmed using his thighs to steady the camera. The dull, blushed head of his dick was slicked beautifully; clear precum welled up at his tip as that big hand fisted his cock. Long fingers spanned his length, stroking his many inches from base to tip. As he reached the head, strong digits squeezed, wringing out his precum and running the pad of a thumb through the mess. 

He looked utterly edible.

just like that, bby

keep goin for me

You grinned, taking a peek around your cubicle to ensure you were alone. Most of your coworkers were long gone for lunch, so there wasn’t much danger, though it was a very public space.

Still, you couldn’t help unbuttoning the top of your shirt, snapping a sneaky picture of your chest.

[sent: 1 image]

need u bby <3

waiting so good 4 u rn

You had no idea just how much you affected your composed husband.

Fuck

Dotn say that shit

A typo AND two swear words? Oh, he was fucked up.

Seconds later, it loaded.

[1 image attached]

A shaky photo, taken from above just like the first. His pretty cock stood angry against his abdomen, red from tip to base. Veins strained against his thin skin, dick so beautifully swollen. A sinful bead of his thick seed drooped heavy, mid-roll down his shaft. The ropes of his release sullied his hands, connecting those thick fingers with pearlescent strings.

You wanted to put your mouth on it.

need u so bad kento.

A beat.

Yeah? Wet at work, darling?

Naughty as fuck, sending me lewd pictures like that. What if Higuruma had seen?

I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you, slut?

No touching yourself.

You’ll cum enough tonight.

banners by @strangergraphics!

[benevolentbones]

coffee | spencer reid x reader

warnings: ??mild flirting, spencer checking you out?? gender neutral

word count: 0.7ish

summary: you meet spencer for the first time while he gets his morning coffee.

!!this is my first time writing for this fandom,, and first time writing in over a year so i may be rusty!!

it was a known fact that spencer reid was practically fuelled by coffee, and this morning was no exception. spencer had been up all night reading case files and finishing off his paperwork from the last case, which usually didn’t take the man too long, but his mind had been elsewhere for the last few days.

it had come to his attention, when the team returned from their last case, that the bau had hired a new receptionist. and usually he wasn’t too fussed about newcomers that weren’t directly associated with his team, but something about you was different.

he first noticed you standing in the kitchenette of the bullpen, with penelope. the blonde woman had you engrossed in one of her rambles about one of the fantasy games she often played in her downtime.

you stood beside her, a blue mug that read ‘worlds best dad’ glued in your grasp as you listened intently. you nodded along to everything garcia was saying, wisps of your neat hair falling out of place, which you quickly tucked behind your ears.

spencer noticed you wore a dark button up, which you had rolled up to your elbows. along with a nice fitting pair of dress pants, his hazel eyes lingering on the curve of your hips a little longer than intended.

he blinked himself out of his trance, ambling over to the coffee maker which conveniently was right beside you.

“-and when you level up, you get the ability to enchant your armour, and y’know your girl had to get some-“ garcia continued to rant as spencer picked up a cup and turned the machine on.

“hey reid have you met our newest member?” penelope beamed, turning to face the brunette who began to pour the worlds worst filter coffee into his cup.

his hazel eyes darted up from what he was doing and met yours. you had turned now fully to face him, garcia standing to your left.

“hi” you smiled sweetly at him, brushing your thumbs over the ceramic of your cup.

spencer felt his face flush warm for a second, the man spluttered out a ‘nice to meet you’ before turning his attention back to his coffee.

penelope hummed, knowing that was probably the best introduction he was going to get.

“well i’ve got to get back- lots of hacking to do.” garcia shot you a smile and darted off in the direction of her office.

you couldn’t help but stare as you watched the man begin to pour a mountain of sugar into his cup, every time you thought he would stop he tilted the container more, to further dump the sweet substance into his beverage.

before you could even think, words had slipped past your lips. “do you want some coffee with your sugar, dr.reid?”

you immediately pursed your lips shut, afraid that maybe joking around was too forward after having only met the man a minute prior.

you noticed a small smile grace his features as he stopped pouring the sugar, reaching for a spoon to stir it together.

“actually it’s not uncommon for people to take their coffee this way, around 65% of the US add sugar and/or cream to their coffee.” he mumbled out, taking a sip and making eye contact with you.

“y’know what, i won’t argue with that.” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

spencer eyed your form, his cheeks growing warm.

“let me guess…you take yours black?” he mused, noting little details about how you crossed your legs when you stood or how you chewed on your lower lip after saying something.

you trailed your gaze along his suit clad form, his striped shirt was fully buttoned with a black tie to compliment it. he wore a dark grey pair of chinos, standing with one hand in the left pocket as he took another sip from his cup, his focus never leaving you, hazel eyes studying you through thick rimmed glasses.

“you guessed right dr.reid, i’m already sweet enough.” you gave him a small smile before walking back to your desk.

[lay-z]

✨️ Day 4 ‒ Mama's boy

Synopsis: Captain Price knows he can count on his team; no matter what and no matter when. He knows it and his soldiers know it, too. 1–4–1. Still, to say you were shocked when he’d asked you to play his darling girlfriend at his annual family Christmas gathering, is an understatement.  

Pairing: John Price x fem!Reader  Warnings/Info: No smut. | military!Reader; humour; fake dating (or is it???); awkward flirting; sexual tension; cussing; fluff; happy ending; teammates to lovers 

Word count: 2.4k 

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

This is for the lovely @staytrueblue ! You've become the absolute Captain John Price expert to me. Hope you'll like it! 🩵

You pick at the hem of your dress; deep red velvet with elegant long sleeves, a tight top with a Carmen neckline which allows a peek of the soft curve of your shoulders, and a bottom that flows seamlessly into a skirt that reaches just above your knees.

A white pearl choker adorns your neck, along with the matching earrings. You’ve done your hair and make-up, and added a spritz of your most expensive perfume – and you don’t question yourself why you’re even doing this much, but perhaps it’s simply the all-consuming urge to please and impress your Captain, like an eager pup with its owner.

You’ve cleaned up nicely for tonight and you’d be more focused on that if it wasn’t for that tight ball of anxiety manifesting deep down in your gut since this whole ruse had taken root a few days ago. It didn’t help when Price gave you a genuine compliment after picking you up from your apartment on base, either.

Trying to relax back into the soft leather of the passenger seat, you decide to glance out of the window and distract yourself by watching the steady storm of snowflakes flutter furiously outside, covering the scenery in fresh powdery snow while the engine of the car purrs steadily.

Aston Martin Vantage. V8. British racing green. Jet-black rims. Sleek interior. Holy shit.

You’ve never sat in a car like this before, nor did you expect Price to own something fancy and flashy like this. Then again, you didn’t expect him to ask for this favour, either.

“Would you stop worrying, darling? You’ll be fine.”

Your eyebrow quirks as you glance at Price, giving him a side-eye as you hear how casually he drops that pet name in that gruff voice of his. It shouldn’t feel like this, this right, shouldn’t make the hair at the back of your neck bristle this pleasantly.

Darling.

“Getting into character already, sir?” You can’t help but ask teasingly, unable not to take the piss out of this whole situation you’ve found yourself in.

Your Captain and superior asking you, one of his Sergeants of all people, to accompany him to his annual family Christmas get together, and what a shit show it is going to be. You’re sure of it.

However, Price huffs, brows furrowing as he keeps his sharp eyes focused on the snowy road.

“Might as well,” he counters curtly, “and stop calling me ‘sir’, will ya? We’re not on duty and I need this – us – to be believable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you make a dismissive gesture with your hand, pondering for a moment before turning your head to really take a good look at him this time.

John looks handsome, too handsome and too civilian, wearing a dark grey chequered pair of chino pants that accentuates his firm rear a little too well, with black dress shoes and a simple black turtleneck sweater that stretches over his broad chest, shoulders and bulging biceps.

The cab of his car is cosy warm and filled with the scent of his tangy yet subtle cologne, a smell that makes you want to hook a finger into the hem of his turtleneck sweater, tug the fabric down to expose his neck and then bury your nose in it to take a sniff.

Yes, no, you’re absolutely normal about all of this.

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink those thoughts away at once, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“So, uh... W-What should I call you, then? Honey buns? Babe?” You quip and cringe internally at your own joke, though you’re gauging his reaction as he drives over to his parents' house.

“Baby? ... Good boy?”

His jaw clenches under his beard, you can see it in the way his temple twitches, and the leather of the steering wheel creaks softly as he grips it tighter. Interesting.

“John is fine,” he answers eventually, “Sweetheart or love if you’re feeling bold enough after a glass of wine, ya bloody lightweight.”

“Sweetheart... Love...” You repeat those pet names quietly, testing them out on your tongue regarding him, still your Captain and superior – and the man you’ve been harbouring feelings for, for the past few years, if you’ll finally start to be really honest with your damn self.

“Okay, I can do that.”

He reaches over and pats your knee; the warmth of his rough palm seeping through the thin fabric of your black tights, “I know you can, darling.”

The first few minutes were incredibly awkward, but that’s just you – being incredibly awkward in general.

Put yourself in any gunfight, jumping out of planes, fake dating Gaz or Soap for a mission, or stalking a target for days on end without a break – no problemo, – but social interactions outside of the field? One such as this?

Oh, boy.

However, you stick to the plan, to the detailed briefing John has given you prior to tonight, and it does seem to work.

His father, William, is surprisingly chatty, but you could also already smell the bourbon on his breath when he went in for a brief hug at the front door.

His mother, Margaret, though, she’s not an easy read, and you quickly realize where your Captain got his steadfastness from. A proper lady who’s obviously the head of this household. He’s got her piercing eyes and appraising look, and you know you’re being scrutinized thoroughly, but she’s friendly enough and gives you space, though you’re already anticipating the moment she’s going to herd you away from her son to put you through the wringer like a wet kitchen towel.

His older brother, Robert, wife Deborah, and two kids, Luke and Ben, are easy to fool, though it seems old Bobby gets a kick out of trying to make his younger brother and especially you flustered. It doesn’t work on John, but after a first glass of wine, you have to admit that it does work on you.

Robert is even less funny than John and that’s just because he’s trying too hard; trying too hard to make everyone like him, and you wonder why John lets him get away with it, but then again, Robert’s the firstborn son, so maybe it’s just the respect John is forced to have for his older brother that’s holding him back. Classical sibling and brother hierarchies, and all of that.

“Say, how did Johnny even manage to woe a woman like you? He’s as charming as an ice pick that one.” Robert dares to ask during dinner, and you actually get offended by that.

“Charming enough for me,” you retort, staring daggers at him and wishing you had an ice pick to throw right about now, “I prefer a straightforward man over some bootlicker.”

Deborah laughs while Robert looks bewildered, eyes flickering between you and John, who’s seated next to you. You cringe internally at yet another blunder, but then you see John’s smug smile out of the corner of your eyes, and his hand finds your knee again under the table, lingering there for the remainder of dinner.

His mother keeps watching and observing from her seat across from you at the long table, a small smile tugging at the corner of her red-painted, wrinkly lips.

John’s younger sister, Alice, shows up right after dinner, before everyone is moved back into the spacious living room to exchange presents; with the large, decorated Christmas tree looming in the corner next to the fireplace, where the birch wood is already crackling nicely.

Alice is an artist, a photographer, living in Paris. Her flight got delayed due to the weather, hence why she’s late. It’s clear by the way John pulls her into a tight hug while simultaneously calling her a muppet that he prefers her over Robert.

She’s a cold breeze of fresh air; a whirlwind full of buzzing energy, joy and kindness, and she would almost be too much for you in any other situation, but when she embraces you gleefully and welcomes you into the family, it’s too easy to get lost in that fantasy for a moment.

This whole ruse is starting to turn cruel on you, really.

Especially, when John’s large and warm hand comes to rest on the small of your back, just above the curve of your rear, once Alice demands to take a picture of you two in front of the Christmas tree. You glance up at him as he towers next to you, smiling boyishly at his little sister while he pulls you closer into his side, one arm curling around your waist and making you go somewhat rigid as you practically feel his strength and dominance radiating off his body, and there is a touch of possession in the way he’s holding you, too.

Or perhaps, you’re simply imagining it.

A sudden camera flash goes off, blindsiding you momentarily and you blink away the dots blurring your vision when Alice speaks up again.

“Alright, thanks for the mugshot, cherié,” she quips, snapping her fingers at you as if to wake you up, “Give me a good one now, aye? I need to capture proof that John actually brought a woman home for once. Look at your poor man; bloody sap’s completely infatuated with you.”

Infatuated? You blink dumbly and glance up at him instinctively as if to check for that yourself, acting as if you could tell how said infatuation would even look like.

And then, your stomach drops and the blood in your veins starts simmering, toes curling in your pumps to ground yourself as soon as your eyes lock with his slightly glazed, steel blue eyes, like a steady flow of ice melting in a rivulet.

Sometime, somehow, in this moment, your hand reaches up to rest on his chest, manicured fingers splaying over the fabric of his sweater to feel his strong heartbeat thudding against your palm–

... and then, Alice coos at you two – breaking the spell.

“Yes! That’s more like it, cherié!”

You excuse yourself after Alice gets the perfect picture to her liking, and before John can follow you, his mother urgently calls out to him, asking for his help in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, you almost feel bad that Alice’s family photo album will have a staged picture of a fake relationship in it, one that will taint it with a big, fat lie.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be here tonight and yet, you are, after having agreed way too quickly and eagerly to the Captain’s request to play his girlfriend and help getting his family to back off.

Now, you find yourself wandering the hallways upstairs of his old family home, where he grew up in, you’d learned; sipping your glass of white wine absentmindedly while you study the rows upon rows of pictures littering the walls, like a walkway through time.

It feels like overstepping a boundary, but John should’ve expected you, a trained special forces soldier, to sneak off at some point to snoop around a bit; he never explicitly told you not to, after all.

You get stuck on graduation pictures of all three siblings, though your eyes linger on John, standing at attention in his dress uniform; tall, handsome, very beardless and fifteen years younger, at least, and you catch your smile before it can spread into something too fond.

Taking another slow sip, you feel a familiar presence behind you; still, you wait for him to address you first and maybe chew you out for being nosy.

“Don’t get caught up in the past, darling,” his gruff voice cuts through the peaceful silence, “I’ve long lost that youthful charm and vigour.” He chuckles gruffly.

Darling. There it is again.

“You can drop the act when we’re alone,” you mumble into the glass as you take another sip, trying to get rid of that damn flutter of nerves deep in your stomach, “I’m positive we’ve fooled them well enough tonight, sir.”

His footsteps are dulled by the carpet covering the hardwood floor as he keeps approaching you from behind, and your grip tightens around the wine glass, nearly shattering the delicate glass, when John’s powerful arms come to wrap around your midriff from behind; his buff body moulding against your back like it’s meant to be.

Admittedly, you go rigid again, holding your breath, stiff as a board.

His breath is warm, a hint of smooth bourbon catching in your nostrils as he leans in to murmur against your ear while his arms tighten around your waist, “I told you to stop calling me ‘sir’, haven’t I? Mhm, darling?”

You shudder involuntarily in his sudden embrace, this forbidden intimacy, breath hitching as your brain begins to short-circuit at once.

“Yeah… You did,” you croak out, voice coming out too breathlessly for your own liking, “But there’s no one to fool here right now, John.”

His chest rumbles and reverberates against your back with something like a pleased hum when you use his first name.

“Not trying to fool anyone, love. ’s just you and me now. ‘sides–”

He then nuzzles his nose against the exposed juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, trailing the tip of his nose along the smooth curve while his beard scratches over your skin pleasantly.

“My bloody mother knew the moment we stepped over the threshold of this house. Thought I’d trained ya better than tha’, Sergeant, or were you not faking any of this after all, hm?”

Despite your better judgement, you allow yourself to lean into his embrace, feeling his body heat seeping through the velvety fabric of your dress.

“Were you?” You counter-ask overzealously, tongue loosened by the alcohol you’ve already consumed, before biting down on your bottom lip, though you can’t take your question back to swallow the words like you probably should have.

“Faking it… I mean.” You add, clearing your throat awkwardly as you continue clutching your wine glass.

There is a heavy pause, one that has your pulse thrumming violently in your neck with each passing second of his silence, until John’s low, gravelly voice murmurs, his lips brushing over that sensitive spot right below your ear.

“Thought I was already being terribly obvious, darling.”

[virtualfoxkoala]

Brandi gillis

Skydawn phillips

Paige tsosie

Tiffany Sam

Marie Kennedy

Tyra claw

Monique Rose

Nadine skye

Aspen Rojas

Autumn Chino

Makaila Jesus

Amber j martza

Elena sosa

Cheyenne thomas

Dina curley

Felicia charley

Jessica Nosie

Delia Martin

Aoleon kaye

Carla yazzie

Janine Nachu

Kelcie quay

Shaundina yazzie

Jazmyne stanley

Jolonda Barlow

Brianna Jimenez

Tonita yazzie

Tamika Tsosie

Amanda Tsosie

Johnita Lopez

Tamalika shortie

Cheyanna stevenson

Demetria begay

Celeste seeley

Amanda joshevama

Taliyah john

Deanna Yazzie

Nicole Martinez

Taya sampson

Allison monroe

Kayla Goldtooth

Cecilia Laughter

Mary Ozmotiy

Cheyenne begay

Aubrey Redmustache

Faye Bennett

Adrianna Joe

Chanel Henry

Nuria grey

Deanna yazzie

Anna Hernandez

Joy begay

Nicole Curtis

Mariah frank

Marie yazzie

Nasasha Jane

Siane Hale

Tegan Lee

Tanya nih

Kaibah joe

Vannika mann

Shaye notafraid

Shawnee de

Aaliyah Claude

Queta yazzie

Laneisha brunette

Tysheena bedonie

Elgin youngbear

HMU to pay or trade for any or all of em

[beansprean]

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

One day in January I thought, "wouldn't it be hilarious if there was an episode where the camera crew changes places with a crew filming a documentary on werewolves in california. and everyone is playing a werewolf counterpart version of their character?" And it all devolved from there. Ty to @vampireshmampire and @memosminifridge for riffing with me and coming up with hilarious ideas <3

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Title card, close up on a full moon glowing blue, surrounded by swirls of fog and bands of purple, blue, and green light. Overlaid is tht title "What We Do Under The Moon" in the What We Do In The Shadows font, letters dark blue with a brighter blue to purple gradient at the bottom, backlit in white.

2. Wide shot of the werewolf character played by Kayvan Novak doing a talking head. He is wearing medium wash jeans, a grey tee shirt over a millennial pink vest, a small gold medallion around his neck with a matching crescent moon earring, and has his long wavy hair half up in a messy bun. He is sitting on a light cream L-shaped couch adjacent to a glass patio door letting in the sunlight and below a wall hanging that says 'live, laugh, lick'. The lower third identifies him as "Navid - beta werewolf". Navid leans back casually against the cushions and props one elbow up on the back of the couch, leaning his head into that hand, and says, "If I am to establish myself as the Alpha of the pack over Lionel and Niki, I must find a mate. Someone strong, powerful, and...nearby. In the same house even, if possible." As he speaks, he glances meaningfully to his left, where the character played by Harvey Guillen is standing behind the couch, his back to Navid as he fusses with a vacuum. He is wearing square retro glasses, airpods in both ears, brown chinos, and a short sleeved green button up unbuttoned to the sternum with a dog silhouette pattern and sleeves rolled up his biceps. His beard is well-kept stubble and hair is buzzed short on the sides, curls pushed to the side in artful disarray and sun-bleached a lighter brown.

3a. Close up on Harvey's character as he walks down the hall away from Navid's talking head. In the background, Navid whips around to lean over the back of the couch with an expectant grin, howling, "Gerardo!! Eavesdropping again? Do you have anything to add to this topic?" Gerardo barely pays him mind, tossing his reply over his shoulder: "No, sir. Seems like a werewolf-only interview. I'm going to go vacuum the alpha den, they've been shedding." 3b. Waist-up of Gerardo standing with his arms crossed, doing a talking head. The lower third reads "Gerardo Cordero de Luna, werewolf familiar (familiar is crossed out) apprentice." Gerardo says haughtily, "I am not a familiar! Only witches and vampires pull that nonsense. I'm an apprentice, and I'm part of the pack." 3c. Repeat. Offscreen, one of the crew asks, "And what does a werewolf apprentice do?" Gerardo goes a bit red, embarrassed, and glares off to the side, hesitating to answer.

The following are all cropped close ups on a mottled orange and yellow background from a colored doodle dump. 4. Waist up of Gerardo and Navid as Navid begs, hands laced together, "Gerardo, won't you let me bite you?" Gerardo avoids his gaze with a nervous grin, flapping his hand dismissively, and replies, "Ehh...not yet! There's still plenty for me to learn about being a werewolf! I've only been apprenticed what, 3 years?" "Almost 15!" Navid shoots back.

5a. Knees up of Navid and Natasia Demetriou's werewolf character, Niki. She is wearing dark red gradient high waisted leggings, a dark red low cut bralette with crossed straps in front, a fluffy cropped brown fur coat, a gold medallion matching Navid's, and multiple golden piercings in her ears with two large oval discs dangling from the lobes. Her lipstick and square cut nails are dark red, and her long hair is permed in tight fluffy curls half up in twin buns. Navid grabs his left wrist with his right hand and thrusts it at Niki's face with an anxious expression, asking, "I smell like I love him, right??" Niki curls her lip and cringes away from him, hands up to swat his arm away as she spits back, "Ugh, yes!! You stink up the whole house with your pining! There's no way he can't smell it." 5b. Knees up of Gerardo sitting on a light cream couch, reading from a book titled "Care for the Lonely Werewolf" help up in his right hand. Navid is laying across the couch, sans vest and hair loose, with his head resting on Gerardo's left thigh. His right hand is trapped beneath him, fingers hooked at the back of Gerardo's knee, and his left rests on top beneath his cheek. Gerardo's left hand his idly petting his hair. Navid stares intently into the middle distance, thinking, 'Perhaps I should be less aloof with him...'

6a. Bust of Gerardo, who is holding up an iPad in his left hand with a drawing stylus poised in his right. Navid, large and hairy in werewolf form but still sporting his dangly earring and little hair bun, is hugging him from behind, clawed hands on his shoulders and wet nose nuzzling into the side of his face. Navid's eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open, tongue lolling out happily. Gerardo looks up at him with a fond, if confused, smile. 6b. Knees up of Navid raising a triumphant fist with a grin and confidently declaring, "He is playing hard to get, but he underestimates how hard I am to get rid of!"

7a. Waist up of Matt Berry's werewolf character, Lionel, who looks much the same but is casual in a light cream linen shirt unbuttoned well below his sternum tucked into matching linen pants, his only accessory the gold medallion matching the others'. He is standing in front of a countertop hosting a box of Thin Mints and cringes away with a drawn-out whine as Gerardo pops into frame to spray him with water, scolding, "No, bad Lionel!" 7b. Waist up of Mark Proksch's character, who appears to just be Colin Robinson dressed like Indiana Jones, as he walks into frame with a rolling suitcase. He smiles and waves, shouting, "Howdy, guys!!" Lionel stands in the background, hands on hips with an easy smile, and says. "Oh, look, it's our landlord Arthur Simon Santiago who lives such an interesting life in New York City and uses this condo as a vacation home!"

8. Group shot, knees up, of Lionel, Niki, Gerardo, and Navid smiling for the camera. Lionel has one hand on his hip and the other around his wife's waist, leaning into her. Niki has one arm thrown around Lionel's shoulders, flashing a peace sign, and the other held up behind Navid's head to give him bunny ears. Gerardo is standing slightly in front of her, one hand clutching a pamphlet for Tisch School of the Arts and looking a bit uncomfortable as if he had been dragged into the photo last minute. Still, he offers the camera a hesitant smile and allows his left arm to be crushed to Navid's chest as the werewolf pulls him close with an arm around his shoulders. Navid leans his entire body into Gerardo with a huge grin, flashing a peace sign with his free hand.

9. Uncropped version of the entire doodle dump, repeating images 4 through 8. /end ID

[forthelostones]

night out ─── ⋆

°:. *₊ ° . fem!reader x mullet!abby °:. *₊ ° .

warnings. 18+ (mdni), nsfw; sub!abby, modern au, fingering (a receiving), and slight jealousy.

synopsis: abby is headed out for a small get-together but you want to make sure you stay on her mind all night.

an: hi everyone! thanks for all your likes and follows i really appreciate the support. i want to start writing more abby, she's just a cutie.

wc: 858

you were getting ready for bed while abby was headed to go out. after brushing your teeth and getting settled under your warm sheets, you take peeks at abby as she runs product through her short sunny hair. you pretend to finger through the pages of the book you’re currently "reading". you watch her muscles contort as she raises her hands above her head to get the perfect strands. 

she told you she was going to this party weeks ago with some colleagues for work, to celebrate a coworker's birthday. naturally, you were jealous that she had gotten all dressed up to go sing happy birthday to some woman you knew nothing about. you hated the fact that other people could even look at her. she was in charge of bringing the gift that everyone paid for to the restaurant. you peered over at the stupid gift bag as she snaked her belt through the loops on her nice chino slacks. why’d she have to wear her best pants? 

“how’s your book?” she smirks, knowing you weren’t reading at all. 

“fine.” 

you say dryly, trying to not let your pout overcome your entire face. 

“whadda’ya think. which jacket?” she asked.

she was holding up two different jackets, a black and grey flannel jacket, and a black bomber. you just point lazily, not actually choosing one. flannel it is, she mumbled.

you close your book and watch her slip the jacket over her plain white tee. her hair was damp from the shower you both took together, and she was more focused on getting clean than the kisses you planted on her bare back. and every time your hands would trail to her ass, she just stayed focused on scrubbing — her obliviousness drove you crazy. you couldn't take your eyes off of her, she looked so fucking good and smelled even better from her sweet & warm perfume.

“ah, shit.” she spat as she looked at her phone, checking the time. 

she rushed back into your shared closet and pulled out her favorite boots. she ran over and slowly leaned down to give you a kiss. even though she was in a rush she didn’t hesitate to slip her tongue into your mouth as she wrapped her hand behind your neck, pulling you in deeper. she played a game of dominance with your tongue, nearly choking you as she pushed you farther into the mattress. her hand slides from your nape to your throat, gently cupping each side. her lips travel downwards to press into your sensitive skin. without warning, she pulls away, leaving you a disheveled mess. 

“okay, i will see you later tonight.” she says as she begins to walk away. but you intercept her by grabbing her wrist and flashing those soft eyes of yours. 

“have fun.” you smile. 

she leans down for one more kiss as your hands trail up her stomach. you press your lips into her sweetly scented skin, which makes her shiver. you lift her shirt up more, and the next kiss is followed by your wet tongue, licking a stripe down to her naval. your hands don’t hesitate to unbuckle her belt and peer up at her desperate eyes. 

“baby, i have to go.” she groaned, stifling her moans. 

you ignore her, slipping your hand into her black, lace panties. 

“and who were you wearing these for?” 

“y-you,” she stutters and you hold her trembling pussy. “for when I came back, o-of course.” 

your hands smooth over the silky part of the panties, pressing against her clit. she looks down at you, waiting anxiously for your to take her over the edge. 

“well, i’ll just wait.” you say dragging your hand away. 

she pleads, and pushes your hand into her underwear. she drops her pants to her ankles, and you couldn’t believe how slutty she looked right now, desperate for you, not even upset that you’re making her even more late. 

you brush against her clit and her large hands came down onto both your shoulders for stability. you take your index finger and gently flick her swollen nub like a guitar string. abby never liked giving up control, but in this moment, she couldn’t help but melt into you. 

she kisses your forehead gently just before you force your fingers inside of her dripping hole. she squeals obnoxiously at your digits curving inside of her. “fuck me, please fuck me.” she whispered in your ear, lips wet with spit as they wrapped around your earlobe.

you press your thumb against her clit and she huffs in between moaning your name, overcome by the pressure hitting all her most sensitive spots. 

“abby.” you groan. 

“yes… yes baby?” 

“i can’t let you cum, you know that.” 

“wh— shit.” she sighs as she tries to stifle her orgasm from taking over her body. 

but she’s not good at hiding it, because suddenly she becomes suspiciously quiet in an attempt to focus. her muscles start to cramp and shake, her grip forms bruises in your skin, and she tosses her head back. suddenly, you just pull your fingers out of her pussy, leaving a mess in those beautiful lace underwear. her face scrunches up at the lack of relief. 

“go. i’ll see you when you get back.” 

[doctordeathawaits]

transage but for ages 40-50 ? or just being older transage in general i just want to be an old man instead of a 20'something but unfortunately every transage tip I've seen is for kids and teens

thanks for being so helpful by the way. i have both learned a lot about myself and others aswell as improved a lot about myself from your blog. hope you are having a wonderful day

TransAge ( 40-50 )

Casual, timeless clothing : Opt for classic pieces like button-up shirts , blazers , chinos , and comfortable loafers ! Colors like grey , navy , and earth tones can give a more mature , sophisticated look ! Consider wearing simple , elegant accessories like watches , glasses , ties , or pocket squares ! They can add a touch of class to your outfit without going overboard !

Haircut : Choose a haircut that suits a more mature look — think short back and sides or a slightly longer , well-groomed style ! Embracing gray hair can be very euphoric too ! One way would be simply dying your roots gray / white-ish to appear as though that's your natural hair ! If you prefer facial hair , taking two mascaras - one white , other black , and brushing it on your face for an aged look can be great !

Skin : Use makeup to mimic slight signs of aging like fine lines , crow's feet , or slight sagging ! Products like contouring kits can add depth to areas like the cheeks, jawline, and under the eyes ! Wrinkles too ! Subtly draw faint lines around common areas like the forehead , corners of the eyes , or mouth with a light pencil or blending product ! " Age spots " can be mimicked with fake - freckle makeup or henna ! Using blueish / greenish shadow to accentuate / thicken your veins for a more aged look !

Behavior : Doing small things like squinting at labels , grunting when you standing up , preferring to be sitting down can be euphoric ! Going on more mature-dominated socials , such as Facebook , can also be euphoric ! Consistent routine , such as " early to bed , early to rise " , enjoying a quiet coffee in the morning , or setting aside time for hobbies like gardening , journaling , or puzzles ! Practice patience and avoid rushing decisions or responses ! Show understanding when others are in a hurry or stressed ! Dadjokes all the way ! Always lightens up the mood !

[adibatex-blog]

Gloria Vanderbilt Women's Classic Amanda High Rise Tapered Jean

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Imported

Zipper closure

Machine Wash

STYLE - high rise jean sits at natural waist with functional pockets, easy zipper fly, belt loops and slight taper leg for the fit you love

VERSATILITY - Goes great with all tops from fashionable to basic a T-shirts and all footwear from stylish boots to your favorit shoes.

LENGTH - This pant comes in a 31 inch regular/average inseam, 29 inch short inseam and 33 inch long inseam with a 15 inch leg opening.

BRAND - Effortlessly fun and stylish Gloria Vanderbilt is a versatile yet classic look that attracts and connects with the modern sensibility of consumers of all ages.

More details click here

[mathclassboyfriend]

ngl my color matching has been on point lately

[thighzp]

SENTENCE SUNDAY BECAUSE WHY THE HELL NOT???

started writing the AU that's been gnawing at me since about a week into kinktober! can't believe I already feel like writing again but here we are. take this all with a grain of salt because it is VERY loosely planned in my brain.

thanks for all the tags today omg so many delicious snippets I got to read! @onthewaytosomewhere @firstprincehornyramblings @sophie1973 @thesleepyskipper @seths-rogens

@tailsbeth-writes @caterpills

no smut because this is the LITERAL opener to the fic (could be slightly different once actually written and uploaded but here's a start)

“I still don’t understand why you need me to go with you,” Pez repeated, Henry in step with him as they approached the front door. “Because,” Henry explained, again, “We were allowed a plus one for this event and I don’t know anyone in my class yet and it’s awkward and this is my professor’s massive, elaborate mansion and… I need you.” Henry was rueful to admit the last part, but when it came to schmoozing older rich folk, Pez was his ace in the hole. He wasn’t even in the course with Henry, but had been won over with the promise of an open bar and canapes. While Pez dressed in a wildly patterned pair of tailored chinos and a practically neon velvet sport coat, Henry opted for a simple sweater and grey trousers. To be fair, Pez did compliment how “scrumptious” his arse looked in the slacks. Not that it mattered; this particular class was a small one and Henry didn’t plan to sleep with anyone he had to look in the eyes on a biweekly basis for an entire semester.

tagging!!! wow haven't done this in a whole month lol i missed y'all @judasofsuburbia @gayhoediaz @pinkamour1588 @kiwiana-writes @catdadacd @clottedcreamfudge

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I am living my best life right now

Hello Buck in a white (I think might be super light grey marl but it looks white) hoodie - sitting in the same chair he sat in in s5 wearing a white hoodie when the beginning of the end for bt1.0 began 👀👀👀 parallels are paralleling

Costume department got my back always!

Hello medic Eddie in olive khaki green and light tan chinos with buck in navy blue.

Note how they’re both in long sleeves - making them paired up!!

And also note that the red parasol is in between them 👀👀👀

Because Tommy with no sleeves - showing him as different to Buck and Eddie - thus separating him further than just the table does!

But also he’s in red - just like that parasol! He’s literally a red flag coming between Buck and Eddie!!

Costume department got my back - always!

[midnighmoonligh]

Agere CoD Animal Crossing Head Canon's

(this is just for fun)

Item list; Denim Overalls (white), Kerokerokeroppi Pin, Pacifier (baby grey), Simple-accent Socks (white), Rubber-toe Sneakers (black), Dreamy Backpack (mint), & Panda Umbrella.

Big on-island design

Plays religiously when little

He will harass anyone he can to play with him

Ghost has to aggressively avoid Kyle when playing, he makes him regress

Has a Dark Academia theme

Favorite holiday is a mix of Halloween (favorite character is ofc Jack) and Turkey Day

Aggressively collects amiibo cards, has two binders full of them

The villagers he has are; Apollo, Wolfgang, Skye, Dobie, Chief, Kyle, Fang, Freya, and Vivian.

His starters had been Apollo, Daisy, and Pecan

Ghost's favorite villager is Kyle (looks like Riley & has Gaz's name)

Item list; Annyeong Tee, Baggy Shirt (gray), Dreamy Pants (blue), Jogging Shorts (black), Diaper (light blue), Mohawk Wig, Punk Hair Wig (orange), Pacifier (baby gray, Pacifier (baby mint), Holey Socks (blue), Knee Bandages, Knee Brace (black & blue), Basketball Shoes (light blue), Crossbody Boston Bag (blue), and Blue Umbrella.

All his villagers are jocks

His first animal crossing game was New Leaf

Prefers new leaf, but doesn't mind new horizons

The villagers he has are; Kid Cat, Samson, Stinky, Tank, Teddy, ED, Tad, Moose, Mac, and Lyman.

He collected the amiibo cards for a small time to get jock villagers, but he gave his collection to Ghost.

Soap's favorite villager is Tad

His favorite holiday is Bunny Day

His favorite character is Zipper

His original villagers were Teddy, Deirdre, and Poncho

Soap's Island is a cross between city-theme and kidcore

Obnoxiously into animal crossing conspiracies

He has loads of theories about Zipper

Item's list; Anorak Jacket (red), Colorful Striped Sweater (white, yellow, & red), Diaper (cream), Formal Shorts (white), Track Pants (gray), Crown, Colorful Striped Knit Cap (red), Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby pink), Color-blocked Socks (brown), Kerokerokeroppi socks, Pompompurin boots, Rubber-toe High TOps (berry red), Bug Cage, Butterfly Backpack, and Rainbow umbrella.

Big on bug collection

Maxed out the bug half of the museum

Gets so excited when seeing Flick

Casual player & often hangs out with ghost

Has had the same villagers since he started

Only really plays if he can play with someone

Got the crown from Ghost (both Ghost & Soap worked to get it for him)

The villagers he has are; Molly, Fauna, Beau, Erik, Deirdre, Pecan, Poppy, Kiki, Mapple, and Ike.

His starter villagers were; Fauna, Deirdre, and Pecan.

His favorite holiday is Festivale and Bug-off

Will take a day off just to sit and play the Festivale event

He'll spend an entire day running around collecting flowers because shiny

His favorite characters are Nat, Flick, & Kiki

The island theme he picked is a sort of glow forest

Item list; Colorful Striped Sweater (navy, light blue, & pink), Oilskin Coat (red), Explorer Shorts (beige), Pineapple Aloha Shorts (red), Outdoor Hat (red), Pacifier (baby yellow) Pacifier (baby orange), Pacifier (baby pink), Rounded Beard, Frilly Knee-high Socks (black), Knee Bandages, Rubber-toe Sneakers (yellow), Rain Boots (red), Fish Pochette, and Fish Umbrella.

The museum is fully maxed out

Shares an island with Gaz, doesn't decorate

He will get super anxious when things are suddenly different

Fishes ALL THE TIME

Only plays to fish for hours

Rich from the fish he catches

Gets lost on the island a lot

Will excitedly shake Gaz if he finds out CJ is roaming around

Is a pro at the fishing tourneys

He has all the special items you can get from CJ

Has the same villagers as Gaz

His favorite characters are CJ and Chip

Gets upset when things block the view of where he's fishing

Will complain about how clapped the villagers look

His favorite holidays are Fishing Tourney and International Museum Day.

Item list; Energetic Sweater (purple), Konnichiwa Tee, Mod Parka (green), Cargo Pants (avocado), Chino Pants (gray), Labelle Cap (midnight), OK Motors Cap, Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby green), Color-blocked Socks (green), Pom-pom Socks (green), Kerokerokeroppi Boots, Rubber-toe High Tops (olive), Nook Inc. Pochette, and Frog Umbrella.

Loves when it rains

Decorates like crazy

Super pretty and aesthetic island

Specifically created places where Price and fish

He's on fashion and his storage is full of clothes

Doesn't have enough space for his clothes and gets really upset about it

Island aesthetic is neutral neighborhood

He borrows Ghost's cards. He thinks they're really cool

His villagers are; Pietro, Julian, Elmer, Papi, Victoria, Roscoe, Winnie, Savannah, Reneigh, and Annalise.

The original villagers he had were; Julian, Alice, and Elise.

Gaz specifically picks the most obnoxious villagers to annoy Price

He forgets to warn Price when making changes to their island

Favorite holiday is Toy Day

Favorite character is Isabelle

Item list; Chick Tee, Culottes (white), Diaper (light blue), Boa Parka (gray), Denim Overalls (avocado), Kiki & Lala Pin, Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby mint), Color-blocked Socks (white), Nordic Socks (gray), Tube Socks (navy blue), Cinnamoroll Sneakers, Cute Sneakers (blue), Rubber-toe High Tops (blue), Bear Backpack (brown), and Pineapple Umbrella.

Only plays with Logan and/or Hesh

Shares an island with Logan & Hesh

Hesh's wife plays with them too!

Loves collecting shooting stars & their crafting recipes

Doesn't do anything in particular, mostly just follows Logan & Hesh around

Often watches Logan & Hesh fight over decorating (sometimes antagonizes it & finds it funny)

Logan enjoys having a fall scene, always skipping time to stay in it. Hesh prefers winter. So to compromise they split the island into three parts

Keegan went for a dark cottage-core on his side

Their villagers are; Phoebe, Charlise, Katt, Tybalt, Claudia, Filbert, Kitty, Tammy, Graham, and Vesta.

Their original villagers were; Phoebe, Kitt, and Charlise

His favorite holiday is New Years and Christmas

He always makes sure to play on holidays!

Favorite characters are Timmy and Tommy

Item list; Dreamy Sweater (blue), Garden Tank (blue), Kids' Smock (cherry blossom), Culottes (white), Diaper (light blue), Dreamy Pants (blue), Cinnamoroll hat, Prom Crown (silver), Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby mint), Pacifier (baby blue), Kiki & Lala Socks, Lace Socks (white), Cinnamoroll sneakers, Mary Janes (blue), Dreamy Backpack (mint), and Blue shiny-bows parasol.

Doesn't share an island with anyone, but is always having shadows play with him on his island

Half the island is worked on the other half isn't. It's been this way for two years

Has a fairy-tale aesthetic (mostly greyscale)

His favorite villager type is dogs

His favorite villager is Cookie

Favorite event is New Years (for the fireworks) and Fireworks show

Favorite character is Redd

His current villagers are; Goldie, Cookie, Portia, Shep, Bea, Butch, Maddie, Daisy, Lucky, Bones, and Boom.

His original villagers were; Lucky, Sparro, and Bam

He has a small collection of cards. He only bought them to collect the dogs more easily but ended up giving up

Plays more than anything when he's injured

Item list; bone Tee, Cardigan School Uniform Top (beige), Two-tone Pants (yellow), Worn-out Jeans (light blue), Paper-bag Hood, Ski Mask (black), Halo, Cosmos Crown, Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby yellow), Aran-knit Socks (white), Cute Sneakers (yellow), Mary Janes (red), Vivid Socks (yellow), Nook Inc. Knapsack, and Eggy Parasol.

Shares an island with Horangi

Horangi plays way more than he does

Plays New Leaf more than New Horizons

Only really plays when regressed

Absolutely terrified of the bugs and will run away from them or yell until Horangi catches them

Their villagers are; Bangle, Bianca, Claudia, Leonardo, Rolf, Rown, Tynalt, Patricia, Spike, and Merengue.

Their original villagers were; Bianca, Dozer, and Shari.

He really likes talking about animal crossing

He loves playing with people online

His favorite characters are Isabelle and Digby

Horangi conned him into having all the tigers

Island Aesthic is kid core (he begged Horangi)

He has ALL the fruits

[rootedinrevisions]

Chasing Us: Part 4

SUMMARY: Tyler and Hannah put their little act on display at the welcome dinner as they talk and socialize with the other wedding guests.

WARNINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

Tyler finished rolling up the sleeves of his olive green linen shirt, glancing at himself in the mirror to make sure everything looked presentable. He wasn't one to get dressed up often - his usual attire leaned more towards practicality than style - but tonight was different. This wasn't just any evening; this was the first official family gathering where he and Hannah had to convince everyone that they were a couple.

He adjusted his gray chino shorts, making sure they sat right, and then leaned against the edge of the dresser, waiting for Hannah to finish getting ready in the bathroom. The low hum of voices from downstairs drifted up through the open door, reminding him that they didn't have much time.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Tyler looked up, expecting Hannah to step out. When she did, he found himself momentarily speechless.

Hannah stood in the doorway, her dress a soft, grey-blue satin that shimmered under the warm light of the room. The dress hugged her figure in all the right places, the slit at the side showing just a hint of leg as she shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, and her makeup was minimal but elegant, accentuating her natural beauty.

For a moment, Tyler forgot to breathe. He'd seen Hannah in countless situations - windswept and muddy from storm chasing, hunched over laughing over a shared joke, even frustrated and exhausted after a long day - but this was different. This was the first time he'd seen her dress up, and she looked...stunning.

Hannah noticed the way he was staring and shifted uncomfortably. "What?" she asked, her voice tinged with nervousness as she smoothed the fabric of her dress. "Is something wrong?"

Tyler quickly shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "No," he replied, his voice a little softer than usual. "Nothing's wrong. You look...amazing, Hannah."

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, and she gave him a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

Tyler chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I had to step up my game for tonight. Didn't think my dirty boots and jeans would cut it."

They shared a brief smile before the moment passed, the weight of the evening ahead of them settling back in. Tyler cleared his throat and offered his arm to her. "Shall we?"

Hannah looped her arm through his, grateful for the small gesture of support. "Let's do this," she said, trying to muster up as much confidence as she could.

As they made their way downstairs, the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder. They entered the kitchen and dining room area where the rest of the family was already gathered. The table was adorned with a charcuterie board spread - an array of cheeses, cured meats, fruits, and crackers - alongside an impressive selection of drinks.

Emily spotted them first and waved them over with a wide grin. "There they are! The happy couple!"

Hannah's heartbeat skipped a beat at the words, but she forced a smile and squeezed Tyler's arm lightly, hoping he wouldn't notice how nervous she was. Tyler, ever perceptive, felt her unease and moved his arm to place a gentle hand on her back as they walked towards the group - a move, that while meant to to comfort her, also had the added benefit of making their relationship appear genuine to anyone watching.

They were soon surrounded by family members, each eager to catch up with Hannah and get a chance to get to know Tyler a little more. Her parents were the first to approach her dad immediately enveloping her in a warm hug. "There's my Hannah Banana," he said fondly, using the old nickname he used to have for her.

"Hi, Dad," Hannah replied, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder. When he finally released her, she turned to her mom, who was already beaming at her.

"Honey, it's so good to have you here," her mom said pulling her in for a hug. "And we're so glad you brought Tyler." She glanced at him with a warm smile. "You know, I was just telling her dad the other day about how Hannah used to pretend to be a storm chaser when she was little - always running around the backyard with a toy microphone, giving weather updates."

"Mom," Hannah groaned, her cheeks flushing. "You don't need to tell him that."

Tyler chuckled, clearly enjoying the story. "Sounds like she was practicing for the real thing. Must have always been a natural."

"Oh, she was," her dad chimed in, grinning. "She'd get all dressed up too. Raincoat, boots, the whole deal. We had to drag her inside when it started getting bad."

"Those were the good times," her mom added, laughing softly. "And now look at you, all grown up and become a storm chaser for real. And now she's bringing one home too. I guess we should've seen it coming."

Hannah smiled, embarrassed but touched by her parents' memories. Tyler caught her eye and gave her a small, reassuring smile, clearly unbothered by the story.

"Well," Tyler said, smoothly transitioning the conversation, "I'm just glad I get to be here with all of you. I can see where Hannah gets her charm, and her beauty." He said before looking at her mom.

Her mom smiled, clearly pleased. "We're glad you're here, Tyler. You two seem to make a great team."

Hannah shot Tyler a quick, grateful glance, relieved that the interaction had gone so smoothly. He responded with a subtle nod, his hand gently resting on the small of her back as they moved on to greet the next group of relatives.

Hannah and Tyler wandered over to where Emily and Matt were standing. Emily greeted them with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling.

"Hannah, I was just telling Matt about when we were younger."

Hannah rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "Oh, great. Which stories were you tell him about exactly?"

Emily laughed and turned to Tyler. "Well, when we were kids, Hannah was absolutely obsessed with rodeo cowboys. Every summer, she'd drag me to the rodeos, trying to get pictures with the riders and maybe even a little autographed cowboy hat. She had the biggest crush on them, especially if they had that classic cowboy charm."

Tyler's eyebrows shot up in interest, and he grinned at Hannah. "Is that so? I didn't realize I had competition."

Hannah gave him a mock glare. "Oh, please. That was years ago."

"It's funny you should say that, Emily. Because I used to compete as a bull rider back in the day." Tyler replied, still smiling.

Emily's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's incredible! It must've been fate for you two to end up together, then."

Hannah looked at Tyler, a mix of surprise and amusement in her eyes. "You never told me that."

Tyler shrugged, still smiling. "Just didn't come up in conversation. I did it before I went to college. But I do have to say, I can see why you were so keen on rodeo cowboys."

Emily nudged Hannah playfully. "And here I was, thinking you were just destined for a lifetime of awkward attempts to impress cowboys at rodeos."

Hannah laughed, shaking her head. "I guess sometimes fate has a way of working things out."

The playful banter continued, and Tyler and Hannah found themselves easing into the evening, surrounded by laughter and stories from their pasts. It was clear that despite the pretense, there was a genuine connection forming between them.

As the evening wore on, the charcuterie board became a centerpiece of the gathering, with various cheeses, meats, and fruits laid out for everyone to enjoy. Tyler and Hannah were making their rounds, chatting and sampling the assortment. Tyler picked up a piece of cheese, turned to Hannah with a playful grin, and held it out to her.

"Care for a bite?" he asked, making a show of offering the cheese.

Hannah laughed and playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure. Why not?" She leaned in, and Tyler carefully fed her the piece of cheese, his fingers brushing her lips briefly. The touch was light but lingered, and Tyler's eyes met hers with a twinkle of mischief.

Her family gathered nearby and watched the interaction with amused smiles. Emily leaned into Matt, whispering, "Aren't they adorable?"

The evening continued with drinks flowing and the atmosphere growing more relaxed. As the night went on, Hannah had a few drinks, and her earlier nerves had started to dissipate. She was enjoying herself more, laughing and chatting with everyone. Tyler stayed close, making sure she was comfortable and having a good time.

At one point, while reaching for another piece of cheese from the board, Hannah took a small misstep. She started to lose her balance, and Tyler instinctively reached out to catch her. He steadied her with a firm grip around her waist, pulling her gently back into him.

Hannah looked up at him with a slightly embarrassed but grateful smile. "Thanks for saving me. I guess I'm a bit clumsy tonight."

Tyler's grin was warm and reassuring. "No problem. Just doing my job as your 'boyfriend.'"

The moment was tender and genuine, and her family took note of how Tyler's touch was both protective and caring. Hannah's mom watched with a smile, nudging her husband with her elbow. "They really do seem to fit well together."

The evening continued with more mingling and laughter. As the night grew later, Hannah found herself leaning into Tyler more, feeling comfortable and content. Tyler occasionally brushed his hand against her back or lightly touched her arm, and each time, it seemed to reaffirm the connection between them.

When the time came for everyone to gather for a toast, Tyler and Hannah stood together, their arms casually brushing against each other.

Hannah's dad, holding a glass of champagne, stood up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the guests. His face was beaming with pride and happiness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "if I could have your attention for just a moment."

The chatter quieted, and everyone turned toward him. Hannah glanced up at Tyler, who gave her a reassuring smile, sensing her nervousness.

"I want to start by thanking each and every one of you for making the journey here to celebrate this special day with us. Your presence means the world to Emily and Matt, and to all of us."

There was a murmur of agreement and appreciation from the crowd. Hannah's dad continued, raising his glass a little higher.

"Tonight is not just a celebration of Emily and Matt's love, but also of the love that surrounds us all, both old and new," he paused glancing over at Hannah and Tyler.

Tyler glanced at Hannah, who looked pleasantly surprised by the inclusion of their relationship in the toast. Her eyes met his, and he gave her a warm, encouraging smile.

"To love," Hannah's dad concluded, "both old and new. May it continue to grow and thrive in our hearts."

Everyone raised their glasses in unison and took a sip, the air filled with a collective sense of joy and celebration. Tyler gently squeezed Hannah's hand, their earlier flirtation now blending seamlessly with the warm and genuine atmosphere.

As the toast ended and the guests resumed mingling, the warmth of the evening seemed to envelop Tyler and Hannah. Her family continued to observe their interactions, clearly impressed by the way Tyler's care and affection for Hannah were evident in every touch and glance.

As the evening wound down, one by one, the guests began to say their goodnights and retire to their rooms. The warm glow of the lanterns and the soft chatter of the remaining few added to the cozy, intimate atmosphere.

Hannah and Tyler lingered a little longer, enjoying the final moments of the night. But soon, they too decided it was time to call it a night.

"I think we should head up," Hannah said, giving Tyler a tired but content smile.

Tyler nodded. "Yeah, let's get some rest."

They said their goodnights to those still gathered, exchanging a few last laughs and hugs, before making their way back up to their room. As they walked down the hallway, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop.

Once inside the room, Hannah sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm going to hop in the shower quickly," she said, glancing at Tyler, who had already begun to unbutton his shirt.

"Sounds good," he replied casually, continuing to undress as she headed into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower running echoed faintly in the room as Tyler finished undressing, standing shirtless in the dim light. He began to gather his things, getting ready to take his turn in the shower.

A few minutes later, Hannah emerged from the bathroom, her hair slightly damp, dressed in a pair of soft pajama shorts and a loose-fitting tank top. She froze for a second as her eyes met Tyler's bare chest. She hadn't seen him like this before, his muscles well-defined, his skin tanned from the countless hours spent under the sun during storm chases. She felt her cheeks flush as her gaze lingered longer than she intended.

Tyler caught her staring and smirked, "What?"

Hannah quickly looked away, a bit flustered. "Nothing. I just...didn't realize you were ready for your turn."

Tyler chuckled softly, not pressing the issue. "Well, I won't be long," he said as he headed into the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

Hannah let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and sat down on the edge of the bed, her thoughts racing. Why had she stared? This was Tyler-her friend and coworker. He was just doing her a favor by coming along as her plus-one. But the image of his bare chest kept creeping back into her mind, and now the thought of him in the shower, just a room away, sent her heart racing. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts aside.

After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door opened, and Tyler stepped out, now dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He looked comfortable and at ease, a stark contrast to the turmoil in Hannah's mind.

Tyler grabbed a pillow from the bed and pulled a throw blanket from the foot of it, making his way over to the couch. He arranged the pillow and blanket, then laid down, stretching out to get comfortable.

"Goodnight, Hannah," he said, turning his head to look at her with a gentle smile.

"Goodnight, Tyler," she replied, slipping under the covers of the bed.

The room grew quiet, with only the sound of the ceiling fan gently whirring above them. As they both settled in for the night, Hannah's mind kept wandering back to the evening's events, the unexpected attraction she felt toward Tyler, and the strange, uncharted territory they were navigating. But for now, she closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly and calm the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her head.