#mak talks back

[princema-k]

i would actually love to hear your thoughts on when layton would emote the ways you've drawn him! if you want! no pressure if not!

OH B OY HERE WE GO!!!!! again take everything with a grain of salt bc i Forgor bits of the series

BLANKET SPOILER FOR UNWOUND FUTURE/MIRACLE MASK MAYBE??/AZRAN LEGACY

(for reference we are talking abt this post)

SURPRISE: As we know in the PL series, it's very very hard to catch the professor off-guard in any way. Most of the things you would think would surprise him, he's already known for a long time and was just keeping quiet about it so that he could use that information at the right time.

With that being said, the times where he does seem to get somewhat surprised (or taken aback. he's so goddamn emotionally constipated) seem to be when the shocker in question has personal relation to him. Though in the series proper, none of the shocking personal factoids are ever presented in a way to make him jump. So theoretically, if any twists like Claire or Descole's reveal were presented much more aggressively, he might emote like how I've drawn him (though I kinda doubt it). Or just jumpscare him lmao

SADNESS: Obviously we know that Layton can feel sadness and cry, though even at the end of Unwound Future it's clear that he's still holding back with his crying. I'd wager that it's because he's out in public and around an impressionable individual (Luke) that he's not letting himself fully express his grief. After all, a true gentleman never makes a scene in public.

I'd say, if he were to cry like the way I've drawn him (that is, bawling his eyes out), it'd probably be at the end of UF when Luke leaves for America, and he'd have to be alone. And I mean completely alone. He'd be very careful about having anyone even remotely near him before he breaks down sobbing; he'd wait for Luke to go home, and wait a while to make sure that he hears no other footsteps around who could potentially walk in on him, before crying. And even then, he'd still repress it - trying to choke back sobs to make sure he isn't heard, pulling the brim of his hat over his eyes and covering his eyes with his hand, the works. Because sadness/crying is weakness to him, and a true gentleman can never show weakness.

ANGER: Frankly, I feel like this is one of the emotions I've drawn that I actually could see him showing in the series proper. We've seen him in Unwound Future just barely holding back his anger at Clive when he endangered Flora/started wrecking havoc on London (obviously still restrained- yadda yadda yadda "true gentleman" blah blah blah).

To get him to unrestrain it, I'd say you would have to put a lot of people he cares about (particularly his wards - Luke and Flora would likely be excellent choices) in direct danger, as well as taunt him to a personal degree enough times. Because even the Professor has limits to how much mental strain he can take, and all limits can be broken. It's just a matter of pushing the right (or wrong!) buttons on him.

FEAR: This one's tough I think. As an adult who's seen a lot (including his own death), it's pretty hard to find something that would really scare him to that degree. Throughout the series the most he seems to show in terms of fear is either: a) surprise that he quickly recovers from, or b) the end of Unwound Future when he realizes that Claire can't stay with him.

I say that theoretically (and REALLY emphasize on the "theoretically"), you might be able to get him to emote the way I've drawn him... if you subject him to anything akin to his recently unrepressed memories of his childhood, and he's rendered helpless to do anything to help but watch. But like I said, only theoretically. I'd wager that he'd probably just be angry too.

LAUGHTER: ...I honestly have no good clue to how or when he'd emote like this. For him to laugh so heartily, he'd have to be in a state of extreme emotional vulnerability, which isn't often.

I'd say it'd be at a time where he's feeling very relieved, or elated (and they'd both have to be situations that connect to him personally too; outside events won't phase him). How he'd laugh to such an extent I'm not actually sure, BUT I could paint a bit of a scenario: It's the end of UF, but Claire could actually stay without dying, and she makes a sort of lighthearted joke in light of the events. Would he laugh wholeheartedly? I dunno. But judging on what we've seen of him, it's a maybe.

It's a shame we never get to see him emote so colourfully in the hexalogy proper, but as I've stated before in another long-winded half-legible ramble character analysis, he's SEVERELY repressing his emotions due to Claire's last words/"gentleman" values/positive reinforcements from his peers and environments for successfully hiding his emotions. Poor guy.

[bleue-flora]

i dont think tommy said the nuke wasnt canon, he seemed to be talking about how he canonically didnt lose a life to the nuke because in the 2022 ending, no nuke killed anyone

I guess?... I don't know. It doesn't really make sense since basically Jack is pretty insistent that he did blow everything up, and yet all the buildings remain, so... and the reasoning he gives for not dying in the nuke is that he can't die, which is part of his lore. Tommy doesn't really answer how he and Tubbo are alive, except to say that the nuke wasn't canon (presumably as in canon death is what he means) and he was left with 1 life when everyone left. In response to Jack's comment about not being able to actually die, Tommy responds "Not that either of us would know anything about that" but since he fought a monster in between his Tubbo comment and Jack's, he may have meant that as a response to his above statement about logistics... so if Jack blew everything up, but everything is still standing, then the most reasonable explanation is that the Incident did happen and eventually he gained his memories back and visits Techno's house from time to time... (which people said including anons in my inbox)

So people are wrong, it is not a retcon but an extension, the end of season 2, whatever that was... even so what's funny is that innitors are more happy with this ending versus a restart even when it's down right depressing. Tommy is alone. He hasn't seen anyone besides Tubbo in a long time and lives very far away from the main dsmp area. But take it from me, the quiet is nice, living alone is nice, but being utterly alone is miserable. To live alone with no outside interaction besides one person is really sad to me, and the fact that the area is still so triggering for him is also a testament that he hasn't healed, and living alone won't heal him. Especially not when part of his trauma revolves around him feeling alone in Exile. So really, it's a very depressing ending. Tommy just wanted to have fun with his friends and in the end, he has no one but Tubbo and his sheep and a cabin in the arctic he stares at for hours. He didn't mend his relationships with people, even still bringing up Jack exploding his hotel after it's been years since then. He did literally move but he didn't heal, he didn't grow, he wasn't able to form better relationships or claim what he yearned for. And that to me is a sadder ending.

As as aside, I've talked about before how all the ghosts have sheep, so an interesting theory would be that he is actually a ghost haunting the land... have another au free of charge I guess lol... do we think the sheep is colored? maybe it's red...

[watery-melon-baller]

i dont have the right kind of mental illness for BBC merlin to actually make this but in my head there's an animatic of hamiltons "satisfied" involving merlin, arthur, and gwen that Haunts Me

[damagecompilation]

..

[chisatowo]

Puting Mafuyu in a different school in the unit swap au is very funny to me cause for Mizuki it means that not only do they not befriend Rui but Mafuyu does before they ever even have a conversation with him. Which tbf is still only after their initial unit story but still

[buckyswintersoldiermask]

Been working on Daddy’s back 👀

[roosterforme]

Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.

"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.

When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"

Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."

"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."

"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans. 

"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."

"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."

Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself. 

"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."

"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you. 

"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"

Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."

"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."

But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.

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

It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.

But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it. 

Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt. 

The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable. 

So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night. 

You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."

"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake. 

Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there. 

"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.

There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there. 

Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.

Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"

You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."

Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours. 

"Wouldn't know."

"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"

You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.

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

"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."

"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."

When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.

"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there. 

"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."

"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything. 

"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?

"Tinder?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."

You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious. 

"I like that one," he told you softly. 

But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"

Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"

Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"

He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you. 

"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.

"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."

Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.

"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."

You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.

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

"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.

"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."

You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"

"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."

"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.

"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."

"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"

"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."

You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."

"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.

Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"

Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."

"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.

A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.

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

"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."

Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."

"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"

With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him. 

Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely. 

That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside. 

Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.

Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole. 

"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake. 

"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh. 

"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it. 

"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."

"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"

"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."

"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you. 

Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.

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

Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?

"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."

Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"

"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead. 

"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony." 

Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." 

And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land. 

You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.

"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"

You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.

"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.

You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."

You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.

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

Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day. 

He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"

"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."

Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.

"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly. 

You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."

"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."

"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."

When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over. 

"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."

He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms. 

You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."

Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.

"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest. 

You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs. 

"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"

"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."

You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.

Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up. 

"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again. 

"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again. 

He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"

Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."

"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips. 

He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"

"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."

Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing. 

The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."

His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."

"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.

The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."

"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy. 

"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"

Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips. 

"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear. 

"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate. 

Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."

Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."

"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.

He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."

Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips. 

"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."

"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan. 

"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."

You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."

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

You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed. 

"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first. 

But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number." 

But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"

"I'll let you find out later.

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

@blahehblah

Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!

Read Bradley's version in Whole Lotta Love

@sotalife

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@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

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@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

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@neferpatra

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@averyhotchner

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@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

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@captainjaspenor

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@fanboyswhore9

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@cottagecori

[monamipencil]

— baby fever | c.sc

tw; talks of pregnancy and mentions of seahorses, slight suggestive.

“baby, i can only know what's wrong if you tell me.” seungcheol is kneeled in front of you, softly caressing your knees with his calloused hands.

worry laces his warm, brown eyes as he stares at you. you stay silent, but the pout on your lips speaks a thousand words. he rakes a hand through his hair, mentally rewinding all the things he did and didn't.

but it's the same conclusion as before, he cannot remember what could've upset you. he sighs but doesn't lose his cool. you observe him, quietly. guilt wraps around your heart but you cannot bring yourself to say why you're upset.

“baby,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

“hmm?”

“baby.”

“yes?”

“no. baby,” you make a gesture with your hands, as if you're holding a baby.

worry fades into horror beneath his irises and you see his face morph into multiple emotions. he rubs his face, and looks at you, wide-eyed. you cut him off before he could say anything.

“i'm not pregnant.”

“i.. baby.”

seungcheol doesn't need any more words to comprehend your thoughts. he breaks out into a big smile and gets off the floor to take you into his arms.

you snuggle into his neck, enjoying the silent understanding between you two. he chuckles when he feels you pout against his skin and whine. his gentle hand cards through your locks, and the other pats your lower back.

“not now, honey.” his big hand caresses your tummy and he sneaks a kiss to your neck.

“i have to work hard, then build a home and get married with you. then, we can have as many kids as you want.” he finishes with a smile.

“as many as i want?” you raise your eyebrow, a habit you picked up from him.

“mhm.”

“ok, i want thirteen kids.” you chuckle as he tries not to show his surprise and visibly tenses. he goes into deep thought while you admire him, tracing his features with your finger.

“thirteen .. is a lot. but we can do it.” it's your turn to be flabbergasted and you pull away from his embrace.

“i can't birth thirteen babies,” you wince, clutching your stomach. he laughs at you with a look that says 'you asked for it.'

“well, don't you think we should practice? practice mak���” you cut him off by flinging a pillow to his face and jet off. you giggle, seeing his face but it's short-lived when he runs after you.

you try to outrun him but it's in vain as he back hugs you and brings you back to the bed. and it seems that the sudden adrenaline rush has you thinking the same.

“maybe, we should.” you're breathless underneath him, hair tousled and eyes holding a new hunger. he groans, begging you not to egg him on.

seungcheol holds you close, whining into your neck. he complains with a pout about how you bewitched him and that he has a baby fever now as well.

“i've decided. i'm gonna work really hard to provide for our 15-member family.”

you laugh but he insists that he's being serious despite the lovesick smile on his face. he switches positions with you, now holding you between his arms.

“we can. in another life time, when we're both reincarnated as seahorses.” you hug him, enjoying the warmth radiating off him.

“i wish we were seahorses.” he sighs, dramatically and shakes his head. you giggle, hitting his chest.

“do you think i'd look good pregnant?” he asks, deep in his thoughts.

“seungcheol!”

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be on the taglist!)

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything

Part 2, MasterPost

Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.

Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains. 

Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?

But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.

Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing. 

Good. It was getting annoying.

“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”

Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.

Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.

The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.

The costumed people were looking at him in horror.

Danny wasn’t sure why.

The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.

Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.

How original.

The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank. 

Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”

“You won’t be mak—“

Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily. 

Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”

“How did you do that?” 

Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.

“Get free.”

“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.

The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”

“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.

“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”

Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.

“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”

Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”

“But wh—“

“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with y'all.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.

[princema-k]

I am really enjoying your au. However, I must ask a question. Does 40 year old twink death Clive appear at some point. ...... ..... ....

i'll think about it.

[loveemagicpeace]

Astrology Observations🪐

Men with capricorn placements or 10th house have a more paternal approach and fatherly qualities. They try to be good fathers. They embody this energy much more than others. They are very caring and do a lot for their children. They will almost always accept responsibility.

Capricorn placements have hard time letting thing and people go cuz they know that one they will let go they will not go back to that. its like a rule that they have.

Capricorn is associated with the seagoat, which means that he also has a lot of emotions hidden behind his cold nature. No one really knows how many difficult things they have experienced, because they always hide a part of themselves inside that they don't show to everyone (sometimes to no one). They know how to go through problems alone and usually do not talk about them until they are resolved. They can be much more secretive than scorpions. One thing that Capricorns will never express is that they are having a hard time or that they need help. They are taught to go through life on their own and overcome difficulties along the way. They are used to cruelty and a cruel world. They are vulnerable people inside, but they rarely show this side to anyone. They don't want to appear weak. Capricorns are very lonely people inside. Legend has it that "the seagoat lived with his children and warned them to stay in the water, but they went to the city." So the goat grew up in its loneliness and later died" that's why goats are used to being alone. Capricorns suffer in silence.

It isn't always easy for Rising-Capricorns to show their feelings, though powerful feelings do exist. You love deeply, are loyal and protective, and go out of your way to do kind deeds for others. However, you are often torn by jealousy and resentment (which you hide), and down deep you never really forgive someone who does you an injury.

U always have to look for mars sign in person chart to see how much effort they will put into something/ anything. Cuz mars is the way u act and react on things. What u will do about it and also how u fight. For ex.: mars in sagittarius have a fiery reaction to their surroundings and to the things that happen around them. And they are also very persistent. Mars in libra have very peaceful response. They do a lot for the relationship.

Being born on the cups means u have some tendencies of other sign. For ex.: libra sun born on 18-22 oct. have tendencies of scorpio which means that they will be much more intense, deep. You have magnetic personal charm. Your sensuality attracts others, even when you are not aware of it. U can also be more controling. Libra sun born from sept. 23 - sept 27 have more tendencies of virgo. You are people-oriented and possess a talent for making others like you. You would like to keep your emotions on an even keel, but you tend to be either enthusiastically happy or else dejected over some little thing going wrong. Love makes you feel fulfilled, and you are probably flirtatious.

For your health you have to look at your sun and opposite sign of your sun, rising sign & also all the other planets you have in your chart. For ex.: if you have stellium in your aires or a lot of energy of this sign u will embody a lot of this energy. So this means that your head, face, facial bone structure and hair will be the most exposed.

People with libra and sagittarius placements are most prone to being obsessed with shopping. There is no limit to how much you can buy. And you are very obsessed with buying clothes or something related to you. You like to enjoy comfort and things and don't feel bad about spending money.

My opinion is that in synastry aspect with sun conj ascendant, the person with the ascendant will be more attached to the person with the sun. Because the sun is what you shine for and your ego and person automatically emits this energy and follows it. And the sun is also something with which a person is seen. What a person is seen for or what makes them the center of attention. The ascendant person, however, has this personality.

Your 7th house is what you want to be, but it is difficult for you to achieve it, because it is a sign that is opposite to what you are. It is the hardest thing to achieve. So when you meet a person who has this energy, you like them for that very reason. Because it has the energy you need. For ex.: Aries in 7th house but the person has 1st house placements -You will find the person attractive because they have self-confidence, determination, courage, madness, hot-bloodedness. And it is exactly this person who will draw these characteristics out of you. 7th house is want u need not what u necessary desire. And this person will bring challenges out of you, and that's exactly why you'll like them.

Pisces will love being around people who will give them a sense of understanding. When they see that they are seen and understood. Because that's what they need and want. They need a lot of attention and tenderness. It's just that they don't show it like that because they don't know how. They feel safe with people with which they are seen.

Sagittarius placements especially mars they don't like staying in one place for a long time. They like to do things. They like challenges and explorations. And when they travel there, they also learn a lot about themselves. You like to experience the excitement of love in the same way you search for diversion in the rest of your life. First attractions are always wildly romantic. They don't like to waste time with a person if the energy is not compatible. They are very passionate in love and love that passion back. It is difficult to stimulate them.

People with the Neptune in 1st house spent a lot of their times near the sea. Also are more prone to be artistic, dreamers. With Uranus in 1st house your life is often marked by sudden and unexpected beginnings. You have a high-strung personality and an in- dependent way of looking at things. You can be strong- willed about getting your own way. Jupiter in 1st house- You are blessed with luck, and things usually turn out for the best in life. Venus in 1st house-Your appearance is important to you and you tend to spend too much money on yourself. Saturn in 1st house-You are patient and a bit shy, feel nervous underneath (which you keep under tight self-control).

Sun in 2nd house -You need security and tend to attract money, but it comes into and goes out of your life rather quickly. Pluto in 2nd house-You are adventurous about money and not afraid of taking risks. You like to diversify, and during your lifetime there may be several changes in your source of income.

Sun in 9th house-You enjoy seeing new places and exploring new ideas. You are a person who stands by your word and tends to be idealistic. Mercury in 9th house-During your middle years you may travel a great deal, both for health and your work.

Pluto in 11th house- You are something of a reformer, and seek to bring about a change for the better in any situation. You feel intensely about your goals and may even have an obsessive personality.

Sun in 12th house-You like privacy and quiet and the joys of meditation and reflection. You may be reticent or have difficulty expressing yourself and are close to only a few people. Mars in 12th house-you keep your deep and vehement feelings secret from the world. You have strong intuitive powers that can be used to advantage in personal relationships. Pluto in 12th house- You are a private person and do not share your emotions easily. People don't know how many darknes you carry within you.

Always look at the kind of Venus a person has (because that's what a person wants in love). What kind of love language does a venus person have. Women show what they find beautiful in a relationship and what will be attractive to them. With men, it shows what kind of woman they want and what it is that attracts them most in a woman. Example: Capricorn venus in 4th house - a man will want a woman who is strong, capable, can endure a lot of pain, responsible, reliable and devoted. They don't necessarily want a woman who is successful, rather a woman who has a goal and knows what she wants and is determined. At the same time, a caring woman may have a little maternal quality (more compassion, emotions).

People who have Bucket shape of chart tend to have a single-minded drive toward achieving a goal. They marshal their energies in one direction. People who have See-Saw shape will always stand between two decisions in life. Everything they choose will have two paths. Seesaw personalities are always able to see two sides of a question. They take into consideration opposing viewpoints and opinions, and weigh these when making their decisions. People who have Bowl shape will always have the feeling that something is missing in their lives. Until they meet someone to fill that void.

Quincunx - Originally classified as mildly adverse, the modern tendency is to consider its influence unpredictable and also more powerful than first thought. Semisquare-Mildly adverse. Brings tension that precipitates events but is much less powerful than a square.

Sun- neptune good aspects- Good imagination; artistic potential. Creative self- expression.

Venus- mars easy aspects-Feelings of warmth and affection easily ex- pressed. Enthusiastic. Passionate. Romantic. Venus conj Mars- A sensuous personality. Optimistic outlook. Good balance between charm and aggressiveness. Venus-saturn aspects-these people are very serious in love. They will never cheat you or do something wrong. They are very responsible and trustworthy people. You can always trust them.

Mars- saturn aspects- are very stable and reliable. In this aspect, I always see that the person will be direct with their actions and also show what they want. And they can also have a high value.

Cancer moon people like to be comfortable wherever they are. And let's say if they go to a cafe, they will always make sure that it is comfortable and that there are comfortable chairs to sit on.

Libra rising woman are very loyal and they really put a lot into the relationship and the partner. They are very helpful and compassionate. Libra rising men on the other side can be sometimes very indecisive and take a long time to decide what they want. Also, they can be insecure in themselves and be people pleasers which means that they can also look for validation of others.

Planets in the first house signify energies that become part of the individual's expression of self with regard to others. A concentration of planets here is likely to increase an individual's tendency toward subjectivity. Some planets in the first tend to lessen the degree of emphasis on the self. Neptune, for example, tends to cloud one's awareness of how one projects energies toward others.Such an individual may gain the ability to project multiple personalities such that others never really know who the individual is.

Although houses often seem to symbolize other people and entities, we have already pointed out that they really only symbolize our experience of these things. In other words, houses symbolize on the interpersonal and environmental level our orientations and relationships to these entities.

The third house does not indicate our actual brothers, sisters, and relatives, but rather our relationship to something they have in common, namely, that they are all people in our environment with whom we deal more or less automatically. It also shows the energy of the people you meet who make you feel like you've known them forever.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🪐✨🦋

[isalabells]

first of all "DFB t h i n k s" is a ballsy statement and you know it. No thinking processes were identified in the making of any recent decisions Denken, das wär doch was für euch

Die eigentliche deutsche Hybris liegt darin, dass es oft nicht einmal Konsens ist, dass die Anderen auch gewinnen wollen, und man sich die eigene Niederlage nur als Großkrise oder gar Weltuntergang vorstellen mag bis kann.

They chose this and FRESH NEW START!! as their angle and are determined to ride it out until they completed the 2026 mission.

Also, the days of "Wir sind kein Teil einer Imagekampagne, wir sind so aus Überzeugung" are long gone. Be blessed you were there to witness them firsthand in the first place.

So you're telling me that after the disaster that was the last documentary (and that at least damaged one guy's reputation in this country and he's still busy carefully building it up again) the DFB really thinks it's necessary to release another one just to drive this whole "ohhhh, we we're robbed" and "fresh new start everything is so much better now" narrative even further?

And in the same week the so-called captain of the team has publicly stated that 2022, wasn't eveb that bad (it was organised very well1!1) and they should have behaved differently? After the months leading up to the tournament the public was meant to believe that human rights are really important to the players and it all came from them and that it wasn't just some marketing ploy?

Come on.

[natstulip]

Good girl ♡ ︎𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

I’ve never really written smut before so I hope it’s okay!🤍

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Imagine agreeing to let Wanda and Nat use you however and whenever they wish. No you’re not in a relationship, but you help to keep their own relationship interesting- as they like to say.

Both women had been out on a mission for a few weeks, with a lot of the team. You, not being an avenger, of course missed the company, the compound being fairly empty and so as a result really quiet. In fact, the team were due back yesterday from the mission, but fury let us know they’d been delayed so would likely get back soon.

——-

I was laying in bed, mindlessly scrolling on my phone as I watched whatever happened to be on the television. Although that didn’t take me long to get bored, it’s how I’d spent basically all my time since being left all alone. I pick up my phone deciding to listen some music, and I grab my headphones because come on, music is way better when it feels like it’s taking over your brain.

I’m dancing away and singing too, with my eyes closed getting really into it. I only stop when I feel a tap on my back. “AGHH” I can’t help the scream I let out, as I rip my headphones off and spin around with a fighting stance ready.

When I realise it’s in fact Wanda and Nat and they’re back from their mission, I feel my face burn in embarrassment. The massive smirk on Nat’s face speaks for itself, as she mumbles “I wasn’t expecting a welcome back show but I have to say I really enjoyed it.”

I blush a deep shade of red at her teasing, only giving a little smile of my own when I see Wanda smack Nat’s arm saying “Hey, leave her alone.”

Nat huffs “Why should I? Look at her cute red face.”

I’m avoiding all eye contact whatsoever right now, not wanting to make a fool of myself any more than I clearly already have.

Wanda chuckles in response to Nat’s words “She’s totally adorable, you’re right about that.”

I don’t even know what to do with myself when they’re practically talking about me as if I’m not standing right here.

Wanda interrupts my inner battle, “Come here baby, I want a hug.” I look up excited, I’ve really missed her touch, and I see her arms opened wide. I rush into her, making her laugh, as she wraps her arms tight around me. I nuzzle my face into her neck, always feeling more at ease from her comforting smell. She rubs my back and mumbles against my head “I’ve missed you so much my sweet girl.” I move my head so I can reach her face, giving her a quick peck on the lips, with a shy look on my face “I missed you lots mommy.”

I hear a cough behind us, “What about daddy, huh?” I’m spun around rather quickly, and Nat’s finger is under my chin. I murmur “I missed you too daddy, a lot.” She hums what seems to be an approval to my words, seemingly waiting for something. I’m not as bold with anything when it comes to Natasha. I’ll kiss Wanda sometimes by me initiating because she’s so comforting but Nat scares me a little. She stares at me until I cave, and hesitantly lean towards her, with a burning face, and kiss her lips quickly.

After an anxious pause, I get a “good girl” from her making me give a goofy smile, and I feel Wanda stroking my hair softly. “Our good good little girl, you going to let us take care of you tonight?” I look at her with wide eyes, causing them both to give each other a smile.

Natasha set herself down on the desk chair in my room, patting her lap while uttering “Sit baby.” I know better than to argue with her so I instantly walk over and make a move to straddle her lap. I don’t get very far because she places a hand on my chest and then does a ‘spin motion’ with her finger, telling me to turn around. Even though I’m a little confused, I turn and face Wanda. I feel Nat grab my hips from behind and pull me to sit, facing away from her. She rests her head on my shoulder, and Wanda crouched down in front of us.

I feel her hands on my legs, and Nat start to kiss my neck, making me instantly feel hot and flustered. I feel like my body stiffens since it’s been so long since I let them have all control.

“Baby, hey, look at mommy.” I move my gaze slowly to Wanda. “We’re here now, you don’t have to let your thoughts take over.” Natasha interrupts her to say “We’ll fuck the thoughts out of you baby, until all you can think about is mommy and daddy, yeah?”

Before I even have time to think about responding, Nat has spread my legs open wide, keeping her legs locked with mine- so I can’t move. It takes my breath away, not expecting her to be so upfront about it, as usually Wanda starts off more gentle, “What daddy let me go..”

Wanda cups my face to direct my eyes to hers, “shhh shhh, you’re okay, let daddy do what she pleases.” She makes no move to let go of my face, and I hope she doesn’t because her comforting touch really helps me through everything.

When I feel more kisses on my neck, and a rougher hand move down my stomach, I let out a gasp and grip onto Wanda’s arm. “Mommy’s staying right here baby, daddy’s gonna make you feel good, hm?”

At the same time as Wanda pulls me in for a kiss, Nat’s hand moves into my shorts, making me gasp. She cups me for a moment, not moving her hand, seemingly waiting for me to start squirming. Eventually she slowly runs the tip of her finger over my folds, just teasingly stroking there for what feels like a very long time, making me shiver.

I feel the soft breath of a chuckle on my neck, “You’re so sensitive huh my baby? I wonder if you could cum from just daddy barely touching you, and mommy kissing those pretty lips. We’ll have to try it sometime, because right now.. we’re trying something new” She raises her eyebrows at Wanda, who swiftly grabs something I assume with her magic, and holds it behind her back.

She moves back to stand in front of me, kissing my forehead, as she hands whatever she grabbed to Nat. I can’t see Nat’s face but I can picture her smirk while Wanda gives her a kiss, before returning to her position earlier, cupping my cheeks.

“Look at mommy.” I listen and look up at her. “We haven’t done what we’re gonna do now before. I’m sure you’ll like it darling but remember call ‘red’ if it’s too much or you want to stop at any point, okay?” I give her a nod, “Okay mommy, I understand.” I watch a smile arise on her face as she strokes my cheek, “My good girl.”

I feel a rush of cold air as Nat pulls the front of my shorts and underwear open for a brief moment, as she shoves something in there, to rest against my clit. “What’s that daddy?” Just as I ask the question it starts vibrating against me, making me let out a breath. She whispers against my ear, “It’s a vibrator baby, it’s gonna make you feel all better while daddy holds you open; and because you’ve been our good little girl we’re going to let you cum as much as you want.”

The first time she pushed me over the edge was nice, with Wanda stroking my face and a pleasurable vibration against me. Though it didn’t take long to get uncomfortable, when Nat said they were going to let me cum as much as I want, she definitely meant as much as they want, never seeming to let me stop and breathe. Every time I reach that point she just ups the vibrations and makes me go again.

I’ve lost count by this point how many times she’s made me cum, resorting to wriggling and kicking my legs and trying to pry her off with my hands; but that was silly as they’re much stronger than me. Nat simply shut me down by grabbing hold of my thighs with her hands and legs now- keeping me pinned to her lap. “Please daddy.. dadddy ‘s too much please…”

She presses a kiss to my shoulder mumbling “Just one more baby, one more, and then we’re done.” With Wanda gently wiping my tears, I can’t help the loud moan I let out as I reach my last climax. My legs are uncontrollably shaking, as Nat carefully removes the vibrator.

Wanda makes a move to pick me up into her arms, “I’ve got you my sweet girl,” as Nat makes her way to the bathroom to get a towel to clean me up with.

I’m laying down, on top of Wanda, while Nat gently cleans me up, and after only a few minutes I’m falling asleep against her chest, with only mommy and daddy on my mind.

[joeloverture]

morning cardio | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dbf!neighbor!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your neighbor and dad's longtime buddy catches you sneaking back home after an underwhelming hook-up. you want more — he provides. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!neighbor!joel, age gap (23/50), reader has a bad relationship with her father, reader's father is overly strict, reader hooks up with an oc, dirty talk, soft!dom joel, degradation, praise, thigh riding, 1 spank, titty slapping, daddy kink, exhibitionism but nobody sees, almost caught, heavy petting, misogyny for sexiness that joel doesn't actually believe in since he's a sweetheart [no use of y/n] word count: 3.7k a/n: watch me almost exclusively post dbf joel. watch me. also, mind the tags, they've changed slightly since i posted the teaser. this was supposed to be a series. this is no longer the case bc i'm indecisive. sorry.

Mistake number one: your eyes are crusted shut with the mascara you’d forgotten to wipe off.

Mistake number two: the bed you wake up in is not your own.

Mistake number three: sleeping with your neighbor.

Rubbing your mascara-sealed eyes, you blink yourself into consciousness and instantly regret it. There’s a moment of stillness, time stretching as you take in the room underneath the swelling orange sunlight. The window is cracked just enough to give you a glimpse at the world outside — birds chirping, sprinklers spritzing, cars crunching gravel as they pull out of the driveway. Surrounding the narrow, rumpled bed is a graveyard of orphaned socks. A box fan whirrs in the corner. The room had felt much cleaner past midnight when it was only the yellowed street lamp outside shining through the window. Then you spot the digital clock on the cluttered bedside table reads 6:10, ten minutes later than you’d wanted to be awake for, and time returns to its regular pace.

Your heart kicks awake in your chest, veins going cold. You kick the sheets off of your sweaty body, roll out of bed, and stumble two steps before planting your feet on the carpet below. Even that isn’t enough to stir your hookup. Dylan Andrews.

It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Both of you were home for spring break. Both of you had flirted at the block party with each other. He was only decent-looking and mediocre with his hands, but you needed a break from spending another night in your childhood bedroom. What better way to do it than with a dick appointment?

Again. It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Sneaking out underneath the nose of your strict, tough-as-nails dad was the easy part. Sneaking back in? Less easy. And to make matters worse, you were already ten minutes behind.

Shit.

You tiptoe across the room, naked as the day you were born, and stuff your underappreciated lingerie into your backpack. Without even putting your panties or bra on, you hop into your shorts and wrestle with your hoodie. By the time you’re out of Dylan’s room, it’s 6:12.

The difference between your dad and Dylan’s mom? She doesn’t give a shit what side of town Dylan wakes up on or how much alcohol is sloshing around in his system as long as he’s safe. You’re not the first girl to do the walk of shame out of Ms. Andrews' generic McMansion house, and you’re far from the last.

She’s downstairs in front of the coffee maker, still wearing her pajamas and doing a Dollar General crossword when you slip past her kitchen unnoticed. The door clangs shut behind you, and you figure she must see you walking down the cul-de-sac.

Your dad always leaves for work at 6:45 after a freezing cold shower and a steaming cup of black coffee for balance. You can only hope his shower ran a little late and that he isn’t at the dining room table already. Cramming two steps into one, you continue with your beeline down the awakening street.

You’re followed home by the mailboxes and flower beds, the pebbles you kick with every step. You’re almost to the property line, prepared to make a mad dash to your front door when you hear the faint call of your name. You skid to a stop, and turn to face the source: the craftsman-style house next door.

And there he is – Joel Miller, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs of his front porch in nothing but his sleep shorts and a t-shirt, legs spread as wide as the chair can accommodate. There’s a smug, knowing look on his face, one that says I’ve caught you. See how you can get out of this.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been face to face with Joel — Mr. Miller. You’d think you’d see him more often, with him being your dad’s buddy and your neighbor, but it’s been since summer. You’re sure he must be having the time of his life by joining your just got laid parade.

“You’re up awful early,” he calls, beckoning you up the driveway with a come-hither movement of his fingers. Leaving your dignity at the curb, you pad up the yard to his porch, climbing one of the stairs to lean against the gutter that feeds into his shrubbery. Pollen and moss is scattered across the wooden deck, surrounding a package that he hasn’t bothered to pick up yet. His guitar is off to the side, propped up against the doorway of the house. You wonder if he’d been playing when he’d seen you walking by.

Joel’s covered for you before, briefly and sparingly. Taken the fall for the half-empty bottle of fireball in your dresser even though he’d never go within ten feet of that shit, blamed it on himself for accidentally leaving it behind after fixing a wheel that had jumped off track for you. Even though your dad had chewed him out for drinking on the job, he’d still managed to sneak it back to you with the wise words of hiding it in a sock next time. You’d been two months past your twenty-first when that had happened, and maybe Joel had pitied you after realizing how authoritarian his friend was.

You aren’t as sure if he’ll pity you now.

“Needed some fresh air,” you defend lamely, hands hanging limp by your sides.

“Needed some cock?” he corrects, and his bluntness makes you choke. He seems relaxed for the words that just came out of his mouth, fingers drumming on his impossibly large thighs, a playful smirk resting on his lips.

You sputter, “No! Jesus, what the hell–”

“I got eyes, hun. Saw you leave that Andrews kid’s place. Clearly he didn’t stick it to ya that good if you’re still walkin’ steady,” he comments. His head tilts.

“Joel,” you hiss, eyes flitting to your dad’s house next door. He seems to read your mind, his smirk widening.

“Wonder what your pops would think. Bet I have a pretty good idea. His little angel, sneakin’ around and whorin’ herself out.” He clicks his tongue at you. “A damn shame.”

Heat spools low in your stomach and down to your unsatisfied center. You wish you’d worn darker colored shorts instead of the flimsy gray things you have on. There’s no barrier of your panties to stop yourself from leaking all over them, and with the way Joel’s looking at you, eyes dark and sly, you’re wishing there was.

“Can’t even imagine what you’re gettin’ up to at that college ‘a yours. Bet you had five guys inside of ya all at once, and I sure ain’t talkin’ about burgers, hun.” He lounges back in his chair, watching you.

You feel yourself gush. Heat burns in your thighs, and they rub together on instinct, seeking to extinguish that brimming ache between your legs. You bunch your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt and can’t stop yourself from squirming underneath his gaze. It’s not like you’ve never thought about this, this with him of all people when you’re underneath your covers and your hand finds the warm junction between your thighs. Always unattainable. Always just out of reach.

You whisper again, “Joel,” but this time, it comes out as more of a moan. Humiliation warms your cheeks and chest, forming a different kind of pit in your stomach.

“Hmmmm?” Joel hums at you with a raised brow. He’s casual, indifferent, almost. But then his eyes flicker up and down, stopping at the wet patch smeared across the front of your shorts, the way your thighs press tight, tensing before letting go. “Ah. A little slut shamin’ gets you all riled up, hun?” That tears a whimper from you. He does that stupid come hither motion again, and like a lost dog, you listen. Standing in front of him, you feel completely, utterly exposed.

He adjusts himself in his chair, and you swallow the building lump in your throat when you see his bulge hardening. It sends another zap of heat to your core, and then another, more surprised one when his hand goes up to grab at your tit. Your breath catches as he thumbs one of your hardened nipples. A triumphant noise echoes out of him. “Braless, too?” His other hand goes down to your shorts, playing with the waistband. “Prancin’ around in these short, skimpy things, too. Practically giving the whole neighborhood a free peep show.”

His hand slides lower. Lower. Pans over to the crease of your thigh and then his thumb is planting over your clit, rubbing only once before he pulls away. “Messy pussy. Bet you stained the guys sheets.”

You’re quiet, staring at him, his wicked fucking expression, those hands that look like sin itself. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Ah. Poor baby. All this effort and you didn’t even get to come.” He just looks at you. Unmoving. Not doing a single damn thing to get you there.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper, embarrassed by the gritty need already embedded into your voice when he’s hardly even touched you.

And he’s still wearing that wolfish look, that tainted-with-intention gleam in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what you do want when he asks, “What? What do you want?” He licks his lips, a fleeting moment.

You look over your shoulder, at the rising street. Anyone could have their windows cracked. Anyone could hear you confess on this porch. Still, you murmur, “I… I want you to make me come, Joel.” Your voice shivers a little bit along with the stroke of wind that wisps against the backs of your thighs.

His brows raise together, now. His head tips forward. “What was that? A little louder. You know, my ears really ain’t the sharpest these days…”

Fucking bastard.

“I want,” you say again, fighting to stop your voice from wavering, to keep it not too loud but not too quiet. “you to make me come.”

Joel sucks on his teeth for a second. “Ohhh. Now I don’t think that’s really fair, hun.” He gives you a mockingly sad look.

“Why?” you ask, and you know you sound as whiny as a petulant child. But he’d been correct earlier. You put in all of this effort, sneaking out for a thrilling night that had turned into something more like two sweaty bodies moving together and only one of them feeling good from it. You want to feel good. You’re tired of looking at the right and the wrong. Joel’s sitting in front of you, his thumb still smelling like your arousal; that’s what’s right.

“You’re out here breakin’ all the rules. Shouldn’t be rewarding you for that, sweetheart. Besides, it’s a little fucked up, dontcha think? Makin’ you come all over me while your pops, my buddy, is none the wiser gettin’ ready for work next door?” His vulgarity only weakens you even more, pussy clenching and begging to be filled. You’re about to protest again when he cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help ya out.”

Your heart pedals in your chest, eager and wanting. But Joel, instead of getting up and elbowing you inside like you expect, stays right where he is. He pats one of his splayed thighs, the grin on his face only widening. Your face contorts. Joel hears your question before you ask.

“What? Never humped someone’s leg before? With how much of a bitch in heat you’re actin’ right now, I’m surprised.” You can feel the shock on your face plain as day. Joel jerks his head down to his thigh, egging you on. “Better hurry up if you want my help, sweetheart. Pretty sure your dad’s about to get goin’, and I sure don’t have all day, either.”

The rapidly shrinking part of yourself that isn’t consumed with desire tells you to take a step back. That anyone, God forbid, even the Adlers across the street could witness this. Talk about a free peep show.

You think of the alternative: sneaking back into your house with a hope and a prayer that your dad won’t find you, backpack over your shoulder and shoes on, as you climb the stairs back to your bedroom. Open up your Joel-advised dresser drawer of things your dad says you shouldn’t have and pull out your vibrator. Do the same old hassle of a routine, desperately trying to make yourself come. Reach an unfulfilling peak.

Or… take what Joel’s offering you. Risks and all.

You take a tentative step forward, glaring at Joel when he chuckles because of your hesitance, and plop yourself down on his thigh. The pressure against your clit immediately pulls a whimper from you. His big hands fix themselves on your hips, holding tight, but not too tight as to hold you captive against him. There’s still the faint existence of the Joel you’ve always known, considerate and sweet and all southern gentleman, that exists behind the guise of his dominance. 

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy against him as you get a slow start to grinding your hips on his thigh. Although your movements are tentative, uncertain in nature, your head is already going fuzzy.

“Bet you’re only this wet cause that boy already put a new load in your dishwasher.” You scoff at him in disbelief — both at how much more wet it gets you, and how foul his words are. He chooses then to jerk you forward by the hips. You cry out as your pussy drags along the thick expanse of his thigh, clit catching on the bunched up fabric of your rumpled shorts.

“Zip it, you fuckin’ hussy. Ain’t a damn soul in this neighborhood that wants to wake up to you sobbin’ while gettin’ off on this thigh.” One of his hands drifts back to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You hear the spank before you feel it, a sting that echoes and sticks right between your legs. He’s effortlessly strung a barbed wire of humiliation around your body. The lack of power makes your thighs clamp down around his, and you can’t tell if you crave more of it or despise it.

Unable to decide which, you loudly, exaggeratedly moan into his ear, still rocking down on his lap. It resounds through the neighborhood, the springboard roofs ricocheting you coquettish noises down the street and through the flowerbeds. A spooked crow lifts off of the power lines behind you, and you hear it squawk as its wings beat and carry it away.

Joel cocks his head at you, brow raised. “So it’s not just your legs that have a problem stayin’ shut. It’s your nasty mouth, too.” His hands migrate up your sides to your tits, which jostle with every flighty movement across his thigh. Before you know what he’s doing, he tweezes at your nipples in a way that makes you melt into him, forehead falling flat against his neck. And then he lands a hard smack across your chest, pleasure with a bite. Your hips jolt. “Behave for daddy before I make you walk next door draggin’ a snail trail behind ya.”

You know he doesn’t mean your real dad. A new rush of heat settles in your stomach, tightening your cunt from an ache to an insatiable thrumming that only Joel can solve. “Fuck,” you almost shout, but end up muffling into his skin with an open-mouthed kiss. He sighs, adjusting under you. The change in angle on your clit makes you whimper, especially when you feel his hardened length smushed against the outside of your thigh.

Your hand goes down to grip it, to participate in the push and pull, the cat and mouse, but he shakes his head, pulling it out of the way. He holds you by the small of your back, urging you to keep rubbing on him. “You’re lucky I’m even givin’ you my thigh,” he spits. “Ain’t gonna let you play chutes and ladders tryna make me come when I know damn well where that hand was last night.”

“Daddy,” you pout at him, lower lip jutting out.

He only shakes his head. “Don’t start.”

Whining in agitation, you manage to school yourself into behaving like he’d told you to. Every grind of your hips welcomes pleasure, beckons it, activates the porch light inside of you that invites it inside. You go limp against Joel as he guides you back and forth, and even limper when he tightens the muscle underneath your soaking core. Your hands anchor themselves on his broad shoulders, nails carving into his skin through the flimsy material of his shirt. He hisses underneath you, a break in his seemingly titanium resolve. You feel yourself getting closer, heat wreathing around your stomach, cunt clenching.

In your house, the foyer light flickers on.

Your hips stall over Joel’s as you see your dad’s backlit silhouette moving around in the foyer. Likely sliding on his shoes, patting his pockets for his wallet and his work phone…. You have two minutes at best.

Joel’s eyes follow your distracted line of vision. His amused chuckle warms the back of your neck. “Oughta hurry up if you don’t wanna get caught. Your old man would be in for a rude awakening, headin’ to work and finding his precious little girl fuckin’ my leg like a whore,” he murmurs.

He bounces his leg underneath you, and you bite back the needy cry that threatens to slip out. It feels so good, too good for you to think about anything other than the haze of arousal and pleasure that hovers over your head like a perpetual fog. You return to grinding down on him, hips pumping with a greater, renewed speed. “Attagirl,” Joel croons at you, and the hand at the small of your back presses harder, pushing you up and down his thigh.

Short, strained breaths of yours meet the morning air, eyes pinned on the rectangular window. It’s a golden-washed reminder of how wrong this is. Your dad would blow a gasket, see red, breathe fire at you if he knew exactly what was happening just a few feet away from his front yard.

But you forget all about that when Joel’s calloused fingers cup your chin, nudging you to look at him. His eyes are all pupil, darkened with something like starvation, something like want. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he coaxes, and he bounces his thigh again.

You’re close, you can feel it. He can feel it, too, in the way that your thighs fasten around his, your cunt rocking on him as your fervor makes the whole front porch shake and shudder. Tossing your hips back and forth, you wanted it, but now? Now you need it. Your stomach tightens, your legs shivering below you as your cunt gushes all over both of your shorts. “That’s it, baby, come on me like you were beggin’ to. ‘S alright, nice and easy for daddy, mhm?” He tenses his thigh one final time, and you lurch over that edge. “Gooood girl,” he hums as your cunt flutters against his leg. “You’re a daredevil, aren’t you?” he asks, jerking his head toward your house.

You figure you must be, after what you just did.

You’d planned on staying there, riding it out and trembling against his warm chest. But the garage cranks open. You jolt off of Joel’s lap, damn near teleporting across the porch with how fast you move. Joel smirks at you, crossing his unfucked leg over his freshly fucked one, where you’d rubbed your cum all over his skin until it’d glistened. The sight warms your stomach all over again, but it doesn’t last – nerves spasm in your ribcage as your dad ducks out into the driveway.

You fumble with your shorts, pulling them down and crossing your hands in front of the obvious stain on the gray fabric. Your dad squints across the yard, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Miller?” He calls your name shortly after, and you straighten. “You’re up early, kiddo.”

You open your mouth, on the precipice of a lie that you know won’t be good. It’ll come out unsteady, dishonest, and uneven. 

Joel points at the package at the foot of his doorstep. “My toolbox got sent to yours,” he explains. “Damn postal. ‘Bout as good as the Boston Post Road these days. But your kid’s got me covered. Raised her right.”

For the second time, Joel Miller covers for you. You have no idea where this leaves you, standing under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. With your cum cooling and sticking to your folds the same way it’s cooling and sticking to his leg, Joel knows your secret. And he’s keeping it.

Your dad only gives a shallow nod, looking between the two of you. “Well,” he hooks a hand back at his truck. “I gotta head off to work.” He shifts on his feet, this time pointing to you. “And you head back inside, kiddo. Too early for you to be up and movin’.” Of course it is.

You stare at the ground, the pollen and stray leaves below your feet. Finally, you settle on a nod. Shallow and halfhearted, much like his. Your dad, satisfied, retreats back into the garage. You hear the truck engine come to life.

“You heard the man,” Joel says. You tighten your fists, moving to step away, but the way Joel’s eyes glimmer has you loitering. He lowers his voice. “See you soon, daredevil.”

That damned nickname. “How do you know I’ll be back?” you retort under your breath.

He shrugs. “I’m sure there’ll be more… ‘packages’.”

You blame the heat in your body on the rising sun, sweat clinging to the back of your neck as you plod off through the front yard. There’s only one thought in your head as your dad pulls out and you close the garage. Mr. Miller can’t happen again.

Mistake number four: thinking you’re telling the truth.

[gracieheartspedro]

No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 

-

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 

Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

[holybibly]

hiiii :> im new here. I’ve never sent anything like this, or anything at all honestly because I get really shy:( I love your writing hehehe it’s very 😳 im sorry to be upfront 😖 but could I request some yunho.. thoughts? AHHHHH im too shy to say it omg🥲🥲🥲 hishandsandhimjusthimbeingadomiwanthimtodestroymeomg. I read your unholy thought of the day for yunho on the fourth, and 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I can’t seem to get him out of my head. M SORRYYY i sound so needy it’s embarrassing.

Your wishes are my commands, my sweet bunnies. If you want more unholy thoughts with Yunho, here you go.

Unholy thoughts of the day, my bunnies: Sometimes Yunho just wants to be a good boy for you and let you use him like a toy. Or Yunho wants to return the favour and warm your pussy with his mouth while you're chatting carelessly on the phone.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed with your legs bent and spread wide apart as you continued to talk to your best friend on the phone, discussing your trip to Jeju together next month. Yunho was lying on his stomach between your legs, mooing softly and contentedly as he pressed his handsome face against your pussy. In this position, you could easily see his plump, bare buttocks peeking seductively out from under the edge of his oversized, homely t-shirt. 

As he began to wriggle slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, you could catch a glimpse of his thick, large cock with its swollen veins and black vibrating ring at the base. The swollen head was red and shiny from the copious amounts of pre-cum that had leaked out, and you unconsciously licked your lips, thinking how good it would taste when you finally took his cock in your mouth. It was strange, and you know many would consider you a pervert, but sometimes you just wanted to suck his cock and heavy testicles like a favourite pacifier, not for sexual pleasure but just for comfort. Just like Yunho liked to keep his fingers deep inside you, feeling your slippery, warm walls clinging greedily around them. You were a dirty couple; sue you for that.

He purrs softly, drawing your attention back to him, and you stroke his hair as that moist, soft mouth completely surrounds your tiny pussy, providing warmth, and you can feel the faintest hint of his tongue pressing against your tender folds and labia, but nothing more.  You've only recently started practicing pussywarming with him, and you have to say it's been an exciting experience. You loved warming Yunho's huge, delicious cock in your tight cunt, but your gorgeous boyfriend thought it only fair to return the favour and warm his sweet girl with his mouth while you went about your routine business. 

You weren't surprised at all by his desire, Yunho loved to eat pussy and he was amazing at it, you loved how messy and sloppy a eater he was, always greedy and slobbering licking your cunt and pulling as many orgasms out of you as he could before you begged him to stop, although even that wasn't much of a reason for him to stop swirling his tongue around your tiny hole. You also practiced 'free use' by refusing to wear any underwear at home and sometimes outside.

You were so excited to try something new and please your boyfriend, but damn if anyone told you it was going to be as easy as it seemed.

At first it was an unbearable pleasure, almost on the verge of pain, when Yunho had to restrain himself with all his might from licking you like crazy and sucking your cute clit into his insatiable mouth, wrapping his lips around it, and sipping it every now and then. But the more you did it, the easier it became, and now Yunho was warming your pussycat with his mouth like a champion. Spend hours between your legs while you were doing your usual things. You don't want your friend to hear your next words, so you put your phone away.

"You look so sweet, baby." You pull his hair harder, and he looks up at you with his huge eyes clouded with pleasure, carefully dipping the tip of his tongue into your slit. "You make me feel so good, Yuyu."

He lets out a low moan at your praise, bobbing his head up and down a little as if you were riding on his face to heighten pleasure, and your thighs tremble a little at the delicious stimulation. Yunho lifts his hips off the bed and slides his hand underneath to stroke his needy cock. The soft fabric of his shirt slides all the way down the curve of his ass and to his waist, exposing his buttocks, and you bite your bottom lip from the seductive sight.

This also serves as a signal for you to end the conversation quickly and let him fuck your pussy properly.

"Yuri, I'm sorry, but I have to go; Yunho and I have plans for tonight." You smile as you see Yunho's eyes darken and become heavy with sensual anticipation, and he no longer holds back, starting to tickle your clit quickly and jerkily with the tip of his tongue. You almost scream, ignoring your friend and hastily pressing the end call button. "Oh fuck, Yunho."

He finally releases your cunt from his mouth, only to spit into it and immediately smear his drool all over your folds with his tongue.

"Are you going to sit on my face or am I going to fold you in half, princess?" He purrs before wrapping his lips around your clit and tugging. You arch your hips and pull his hair roughly.

"How about 69, baby? I want to taste you too."