#also when will it be appropriate to call her hot?

[lovifie]

For my dear @lyralein (@support un-naughty my girl, you coward!!) and her mastermind of a mind, that came with the (correct) thought that Mr. Alex Keller would be a big shot at French porn.

And et voilà! ✨The porn✨ (and when I say porn, I meant it. There is no plot.)

Masterlist

Working for the CIA has granted Alex the opportunity to visit a multitude of countries, to meet unbelievable people and to push his limits on uncountable occasions.

In a couple too many times he has been at the verge of death, buildings collapsing, missiles flying a tad too close for his liking, friends turned enemies in the blink of an eye… But after all, that's what he signed up for.

Plus, sometimes, it also had some advantages.

Like meeting you.

And hearing your voice so sweetly call for him. “Monsieur, Keller!”

He whips his head around towards the sound of your voice like a dog well trained, turning to look at you standing on the porch of the little palace you lived in.

He drinks you in, standing barefoot on the first step of the short stair, pretty white summer dress accentuating every curve of your body and moving along the jiggle of your body as you effusively waved your hand at him.

He takes advantage of the distance, enough for you to not be able to tell the ungentlemanly places he rests his eyes at. The top of the dress, pulled to the center in a bow and pushing your boobs together calling him in like a siren's song.

He doesn't peel his eyes away from you, unable to do so; walking up to where you stand smiling like an angel upon him.

You shouldn't be calling him. The daughter of the owner of the wine yard shouldn't be talking to the lowest class of the employees. Alex's body is covered on a thin layer of sweat from working outside under the sun, hands grimey with dirt and clothes less than appropriate to be talking to you.

Still, when Alex slightly kicks the stairs to remove the loose dirt from his boots to not bring it inside, you are quick to jump at him, grabbing his hand and pulling him under the shade.

“You shouldn't be working at this time! It's too hot!” You reprimand him, the french accent obvious on your tone making him smile.

“Désolé, mademoiselle…” He attempts to excuse himself, cutting himself short when he sees the offended expression on your face at his french.

“Where did you say you are from again, monsieur Keller?” You ask, trying to switch the language to English again.

Alex looks at you, trying to remember what his last lie was so he can match it. “Quebec.”

You nod, raising your eyebrows at the doubt he is actually from Quebec but choosing to indulge him on his lie. You point to the washbowl on the table, a kind smile still on your face as you order him. “Wash your hands and face, I'll get us something to drink.”

And with that you disappear into the house, letting him the full view of your behind as you walk away. He turns again towards the bowl, using the fresh water to wash off the dirt from his face and hands, cleaning under his nails to make sure not a crumb of dirt has the chance to pollute you.

The door creaks when you open it again, a small tray on your hand that you quickly set on the table beside him. An unnecessary intricate jar full of iced lemon water with two just-as-intricate glasses beside it. But the first thing you grab is the small towel with your family initials embroidered in it.

He picks it up, patting his face and hands dry and checking he did a good job at cleaning himself before handing it back. You drop it on the table, slightly bending forward to pour the water on the glasses, and Alex's eyes are glued to the curve of your ass.

The heat of the summer hits you too, no matter how much of a local you are and he can tell by your clothing choices. The dress you are wearing is so dainty the beauty marks of your skin are visible through the fabric, as well as your lack of underwear.

It causes Alex to swallow a groan at his reaction over such a small detail when he feels his dick stir on his pants at the thought of pulling your dress up. His hand moves on its own, creeping closer and closer towards the flimsy material keeping the touch of your skin from him.

You turn around, filled glass in hand, jumping when you feel his hand rest on the curve of your hip but still, you look at him with the warmest smile on your face. You look down to where his hand is placed, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“So pretty…” He mumbles, grabbing the glass on your hand without moving his other hand.

“The dress?” You ask, warmth rising to your cheeks at his touch while you try not to break the contact with his blue eyes.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows for a second confused before softening his expression. “...yeah, pretty dress.”

He is the one to break eye contact, dragging his eyes over your body, down to the hem of your dress. He bends forwards, glass still on his hand as the other moves to rest right where the dress ends.

Teasingly, he walks his middle and pointer fingers up your thigh, flicking the skirt up with each step and exposing more bare skin of the leg, while you watch on with bated breath.

He looks at your face again, so he doesn't miss your expression when he finally lets the palm of his hand rest on the softness of your thigh; dangerously close to your core.

“Monsieur Ke- Monsieur Keller!” You call him, trying to sound scandalized when he starts to close his hand, the fat of your inner thigh being squeezed.

But no matter how appalled you try to look, leaning back against the table; Alex notices how you slightly pull your thighs together, pushing his hand towards the middle in the process.

He turns his wrist in one swift motion, with the palm of his hand resting on your cunt. Making you jump to wrap your hand around his wrist, keeping his hand between your thighs as you squeeze them together.

His index finger moves between your folds making you whine as you close your eyes, your hold on his wrist losing strength. It doesn't take long for him to feel wetness dribble over his digit. The feeling making you unclench your legs, allowing him more space between them.

The arousal slowly dripping from your core allows him to slide more easily his finger along your folds, making it easy for him to probe at your entrance, making you close your eyes as little moans and whimpers start to fall from your lips.

Such delicious sounds making him thirsty, but not for the glass of water on his hand. He tries to set it down on the table, but unable to peel his eyes from your pleasured expression he knocks it down making the water run over the surface of the table.

It snaps you out of it, finally pushing his hand away and you stand, turning around to pick up the glass. “I- I better clean it up.” You hurriedly say as you place the glass back on the tray as well as everything else on the table.

He tries to call your name when you turn, but his words die on the back of his throat when he sees the wet fabric of your dress stuck to your plush ass. And it is enough to have him walk behind you, following you inside the house and into the kitchen just a couple of steps behind you.

“You were right, I shouldn't have been working…” He says, making you turn once more with a surprised expression on your face. “I think I might be overheating, mademoiselle...”

You look up to him as he walks closer to you, unable to say anything, intoxicating on his proximity. And when his hands finally wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you against his hard chest and his lips crash against your, the only thing you can do is kiss him back.

He moves his hands up, cupping your face as he hums at the satisfaction of finally feeling your lips against his. Then takes one more step forwards, keeping you trapped between the countertop and his body.

You can feel his groin pressed against your abdomen, feeling it grow and harden with each swim of his hips against your body. The need to feel his skin under your touch making you pull his shirt out of his trouser so you can bury your hand under, your nails dragging over the firm muscle of his waist.

His lips pull apart from yours to kiss his way down your neck, sucking your taste in and letting his tongue roam flat against your skin, feeling your pulse rise up at his actions.

One of your hands moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers with his hair as you push his face into your neck. “Alex…” You softly moan when his tongue presses on the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

He shushes you, smile appearing on his face. “Now, now, sunshine… Where did Monsieur Keller go?” He asks, pulling back, standing to his whole height as he lets his hands rest on the counter behind you, caging you in. “Let's not lose our manners, alright?”

You nod, mimicking his movements when he does; you mind already getting driven by your body and not your brain. You follow his gaze when he looks down and see his hands pulling your dress up again. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs trembling with anticipation and he knows that if he pulled them apart they would be glossy with your arousal sliding down.

He chuckles when he sees you look so bashful, averting his eyes but still unable to look away from him, needing to see what his next move will be.

To your dissatisfaction, he lets the dress down; which makes you look at him with questioning doe eyes when he steps back. You are about to question the reason for his change of heart when you see him pull the chair from the kitchen table.

He turns it, sliding it until it's right in front of you. You look from the chair to his face, questioning his plan; and instead of answering your unspoken question he simply sits down, pushing it even more forward. He pulls your dress up again, stuffing the hem of the dress into your cleavage as if it was a napkin to keep it away from his meal.

He pushes down on your chest with the same movement making you lean back on the counter, propped up on your elbows and with a seamless movement, he slides his hands behind your knees and effortlessly moves then to rest over his shoulders.

The surprise of the movement combined with the way he presses his tongue flat against your folds takes every ounce of strength away from your body making you lay flat on your back.

He groans at the taste of your arousal on his tongue, his fingertips sinking into the fat of your thighs around his head when he dives in again. Sliding his tongue between your folds, catching at your clit with a flick.

It makes your thigh tremble, threatening to close; which only encourages him further. Repeating the motion, feeling them flex on each side of his head; his hearing getting muffled with each stripe he licks.

But no matter how tightly you suffocate his skull between them, he can still hear loud and clear the moans and whines dripping from your lips.

He finally opens his eyes, not even aware that he had closed them as soon as he got a taste, letting the rest of his senses enjoy your body. But once he opens his eyes, he can't close them back.

From between your legs, the first thing he sees is your abdomen flexing at the feeling of his mouth lapping at your clit, your back arching at the attack of his tongue. The dress that he so carelessly stuffed on itself, sliding out of your cleavage with your movements. He wishes he could undo the bow keeping your boobs from his prying eyes, but not yet, not when he can prolong it and savor every minute for longer.

The only thing he doesn't love it's that he can't see your face, your head falling back; only letting him see your chin. He wishes he could see your face, see the product of his work in the shape of a pleasured expression just the way he's listening. But he'll see it later, when he's buried deep into you.

For now, he buries his tongue as deep as he cans into your cunt, feeling your inner walls clamp down on it when his nose rubs against your clit deliciously as he shakes his head. It makes you spread your legs, urging him deeper with a hand on his head. You manage to prop yourself on your free elbow, looking down at him. With your fingers tangled on his brunette hair and his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh to keep you close.

His pupils are blown, two black voids looking at you when you finally manage to make eye contact with him for a fraction of a second; before it is the last drop throwing you over the edge.

Your legs closing against his head again, unable to muffle the moan of his name as you come down from your high. His head is pressed so tightly against your cunt he can't even breath, but he would so gladly die there.

The moment your legs free his head he pulls back just enough to breathe, inhaling your smell in the way. He kisses the inner side of your tight leaving a wet spot and then stands again, standing between your legs licking his lips like an animal after eating.

The sight of your body, sprawled and fucked under him, get his dick impossibly harder. Then you raise your hand, using your thumb to collect the juices left on his mustache and before you can pull your hand back to lick it yourself, he grabs your wrist keeping it close and sucks your finger into his mouth. His scorching hot tongue cleaning the juices from your hand without breaking eye contact, it makes you whimper softly; cupping his face with your thumb still inside his mouth and you pull him closer.

“Monsieur Keller…” You whine, calling him like a moth to a light. “Please…”

“I know, love, I know.” He says once he pulls your finger out and he kisses you softly, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hands find their way around your waist pulling you closer and you circle his hips with his legs.

He picks you up, just for a second before sitting back down on the chair with you on his lap. Your hands rest on his shoulders, being you the one to kiss him this time. He can feel you grind your hips against him, the softest whine falling from your lips at the feel of the rough material of his jeans against your sensible cunt.

He moves his hand down, undoing his belt so he can pull his length free. You wish you could see it, but the dress serves as a tent when it slaps against his abdomen. The little wet spot of his seed turning translucent the fabric so you can see the red tip underneath, angry with the lack of attention.

You raise your hips, letting him slap his length against your folds; your arousal getting it slicked and desperate for the feeling of your warm walls engulfing him like a vice.

But he's not the only one desperate for it, and the moment his tip catches on your entrance you pull down in a swift motion taking all of him in, moaning into each other's mouths at the feeling. His hands rests on your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay there for me, sweetheart.” He moans, head falling back over the backrest of the chair. “Just keep it in for me, fuck…”

His hips move in the smallest thrust, the movement would pass unnoticed if it wasn't for how deep it reaches inside of you. He finally pulls his head back up, coming face to face with your chest. And no matter how pretty the dress is or how good it looks on you, it's the only thing keeping him from seeing you and it's time it goes away.

His hands grab each side of the bow, easily getting it undone and groaning when your boobs finally spill over. He hugs your middle, burying his face between your breasts taking your aroma in before he starts to lap at them.

Licking, sucking and biting every centimeter, his hips immobile making you whine pathetically at the delicious torture of both his attention and the lack of it.

You whine his name again, needing more than just his mouth on your chest. “I know, I know, sweetheart. Just let me taste you some more…” He tries to say, words dying down on his throat when you begin to move your hips.

“T-tu… tu es… trés…” He tries to say again, so enamored with the feel of your tight cunt around his cock it makes him switch languages.

He doesn't get to finish his attempt before you push your hand over his mouth, pushing his head back. “Enough with the shitty French, Monsieur Keller…” You moan, the feeling of his length hitting every sweet spot inside of you getting ruined by his continuous butchering of your language.

He apologised against your hand, doing it again when you beg him to fuck you, your thighs getting tired of the cramped position. He pulls your dress up, pulling it off your body, finally having you completely exposed to him. His hands roam your body, getting distracted from his original plan.

Only remembering when you whine his name again, picking you up to lay you down on the kitchen table like the most precious and delicate piece of art. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with lust and hunger in your eyes.

He spreads your legs, laying his dick flat against your folds, sliding it in between making the two of you moan softly. It finally gives you the chance to catch a glimpse of his length.

The droplet of precum slowly falls over your mount of venus when he glides forwards, allowing you to see the glistering layer of your arousal mixing with his.

He moves you to lay on your side, moving your leg up, your knee almost touching your shoulder when you prop yourself up on your elbow. And at the same time he buries himself to the hilt, the double stretch making your mouth fall open as you look at him, a deaf moan waiting to be spilled.

“Big stretch, sweetheart “ He grunts as he sets himself inside of you, bending down to kiss your open mouth. He might have already been inside of you when you were both sitting down, but the new position has you feeling it all again as if he didn't.

The moan finally comes to life when his hand meets his shaft, collecting the fluids flooding for your cunt to wet his thumb and rubbing soft circles around your clit. You moan his name, your hand grabbing his shirt to ground yourself.

“Fucking hell, sunshine… Taking me so fucking good…” He moans, hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “Fuck… This cunt was fucking made to take me, love. Fucking perfect, you are. My fucking perfect sunshine.”

His thrusts start to pick up the pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin getting louder and louder; only overshadowed by the song of moans falling from one mouth to the other.

He is still almost completely dressed, his pants still over the curve of his ass. So slowly sliding down with each snap of his hips, the belt clinking with each movement. It works as proof of his desperation to be inside, no matter how uncomfortable the clothes are, it is not worth it wasting time on taking it off.

Not when your cunt is sucking him in so deliciously, each rub at your hooded clit making you clench around him; urging him impossibly deeper. His shaft dragging along your wall, caressing each and every sweet spot inside of you.

It has you closing your eyes with your eyebrows furrowed, an expression that would make him think you were in pain if it wasn't by the loud moans of his name leaving your lips like a mantra.

“Open your eyes, please, sweetheart… Look at me, love.” He moans, moving his free hand to cup your face so you will look at him. Resting his forehead against yours, your breath hitting his chin. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum, sweetheart, please.”

You finally open your eyes, looking right into his when he slightly moves back and it is like an arrow went through his heart. He notices how your free hand grabs the arm on your face, not wanting to let escape any kind of contact and his heart melts when he notices you lay your face on his hand, kissing his palm.

Such a small gesture that has his blood rushing to his head making the tip of his ears blush, as if he wasn't balls deep into you. But he feels his ball tighten with the want for release, and he can't miss the opportunity to feel you come undone around his dick.

So using every ounce of self restraint he pulls the hand from your face away, moving it back to where you are connected, rubbing his thumb over your clit making you mewl.

He can feel you get tighter and tighter as your orgasm approaches, making it harder for him to move freely at the immensely pleasurable feeling.

It's only when he finally feels you unclench, your head falling back in a silent cry and your legs shaking slightly; that he feels you cum, your arousal spurting out of your drenched cunt with each thrust of his hips.

He groans, having missed your fuck out expression when you let your head fall and deprived him of the desired sight. So he moves his hand from your clit, moving it to the back of your head to move it forward so you look right at him.

And you look so beautiful, if he died right there he would die happy, so he can't help himself when he bends forwards, kissing you sloppy and nasty with his horny brain.

The last thrusts of his hips hard and deep making you bounce and whine, moaning softly and long when you feel him spill deep inside of you. A shiver running down your spine at the warm sensation, your hand on his shirt falling down to help you support yourself.

And it's when you pull apart from the kiss, hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat, your chest rising at an unsteady pace and your cunt still pulsing around his length that he realizes how deep under his skin you have buried yourself.

He can't keep living like this, not able to sleep in the same bed as you every night, waiting for another opportunity like this, hoping everyday will be the day. He needs to see your smile everyday, to have your number, for you to have his surname, everything. Absolute smitten with you, enamored even. Falling so deep in love after such a short period of time, his heart aching at the thought of pulling away, how could he not love you when you are so obviously his soulmat-

“D'accord! That was a good one, let's wrap everything up, tout le monde!” The director shouts, bringing the situation down on Alex.

He suddenly realizes everyone around the two of you, the cameras, the crew, the assistants, the director.

The whole vineyard owner's daughter plot of the porn movie was a bit odd from the beginning, but when he laid his eyes on him he didn't give a damn about the plot.

Being a CIA agent had made Alex live in strange situations, but starring on a porn movie in a foreign country had to be the top one.

He barely remembers how this was related with the mission, something about some suspicious money being moved along with the crew. But in all honesty, he would also move all his money after you.

Especially when you clench for a last time around his girth, the aftershock of you orgasm that makes him groan as he finally pulls out. “Sorry” The two of you mumble, chuckling at the echo and blushing like you didn't just fuck eachother brains off.

He helps you stand back on your feet, his hands resting on your waist and unable to peel his eyes away from your face.

“Are you alright, Alex?” You ask, rubbing his biceps in a consoling way.

And you look at him so softly, almost unaffected by the whole ordeal, that it sends Alex into a spiral. Were those noises you were making real? Was the way you were clinging onto his shoulder true? Would you moan his name just like you moaned his surname?

He needed to know the answer to those questions, and there was only one way to find out.

“Y-Yeah, don't worry about it, love.” He says making you smile wider. “But I was wondering… do you know any good restaurants in the area? Maybe one you wouldn't mind having dinner at with me?”

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @whos-fran

@thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind

@cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3

@mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby

@hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @fraserbraw

@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708

@katreintjie @sacvh @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr

@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane

#call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #alex keller #alex keller fanfic #alex keller x reader #alex keller smut #cod smut #call of duty smut #cod fic #alex keller fic #alex keller x female reader #call of duty alex keller #alex keller call of duty #alex keller cod

[thundergrace]

The way Gina Prince-Bythewood just DOES NOT MISS!!!

#gina prince bythewood #also when will it be appropriate to call her hot? #I've been waiting for years how long do i have to be respectful- i #love and basketball #the old guard #the woman king #beyond the lights

[amarrymeinbostonwriter]

I remember cosplaying as a teen. I used to mostly dress as male characters just because the girl's outfits were usually too short/revealing that I wouldn't feel comfortable in. It was fun wearing suits and men's clothing.

I thought of it again last night even though I gave up cosplaying a WHILE ago because I'm not really into anime any more.

However, in college, I very nearly went out for a student drag show. I had a persona and everything. I backed out at the last second. Not proud of that, but it's what I did.

But the idea just kind of sat with me and has come back to me a few times since then.

There was a joke my friend and I had. He made a fake drag persona to go with mine. I don't think he thought I was serious but I think I might have been.

#I used to cosplay in school too as the male characters and go all out #I didn't care at all- 16/17 year old me did not give a fuck what people thought! #yes I was really doing full drag at my high school in 2010 #sometimes I amaze myself at my own blindness #I still think women in suits are hot #I'm also a woman (cis gender or biological woman/ whatever the terms are now for that) but this was something I liked doing #I even dressed as one of my favorite male characters at my own 18th birthday party #without realizing it I think I wanted to be a drag king #and I'm thinking about it now #that was the other hobby I mentioned on an earlier post #I miss the boldness of my younger self tbh and I'm trying to reconnect with her fire and passion #because I'm tired of feeling like a deflated tire lol #I've been mistaken for a dude before too when I was in costume- what a great feeling that was! :) #this has been in the back of my mind for a while and seemed like an appropriate confession for tumblr #I'm still reading stone butch blues and some of it's resonating...I knew I wasn't straight! #take my old cosplay skills (if we can call them that) and become a drag king? My tarot reading earlier today said yes?!? #I need to get new eyeliner ugh because my king is a bit of an emo fuckboi #I don't wear any make-up as woman any more but I will need it to look more like a guy if I do this #I guess this qualifies as a hobby??? #mychatter

[minhosimthings]

Gilded Skin || 18+

Synopsis: A makeout session with your tattoo artist neighbour

Pairings: tattoo artist!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, Dom!Jay, sub!reader, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, manhandling because idk I love Jay's hands, kinda pervert Jay, unprotected sex (not for you), swearing, use of "sweetheart"

A/N: for you my beloved @jaeyunluvr. Also possibly my last work for in a while since I'm getting kinda busy!

Tattoos.

Controversial (to some people) as they were, you loved them.

The mere thought of getting a tattoo scared you though, yes they were pretty, but number one, money and number two, needles. But soon enough, your friend, Heeseung, who was ironically a tattoo artist himself convinced you to pay a visit to the tattoo parlour.

Normally you would have refused, stating the usual excuse of 'I'm busy maybe next time?'. But lo and behold to Heeseung's ears you agreed this time.

"It's because of that hot guy there isn't it?" Heeseung snickered, his hands on the steering wheel as he drove you to the parlour.

'That hot guy' aka your new neighbour, aka the tattoo artist at the new tattoo parlour that had opened up down the street.

Even though it had been just a two minute walk's distance from you, Heeseung insisted on coming to the parlour with you. Although his actual motives were to see you absolutely melt infront of the man you had a cunt-destroying crush on, he kept on with the absolute lie that he was trying to be a supportive friend, and also obseve the artists at the parlor.

"He has a name you know." You rolled your eyes as Heeseung parked his car into the alleyway, "It's Jay or something."

"So we can no longer call him 'hot guy'?" Heeseung asked, seemingly amused by the way you were fiddling with your fingers, "Shame, I liked that nickname. What do you like about him anyway?"

What did you like about him. What answer could you have possibly given to that? Of course there were so many factors. The fact that he was your new neighbour but you still hadn't talked to him, the fact that he fed the street cats, the fact that he-

"His hands."

Heeseung's reaction was... appropriate to say the least. His choking on air made you roll your eyes, as you slapped his back to make him calm down. Then after a few moments of silence, he burst out laughing.

"His WHAT?" Heeseung held his stomach as raucous laughs escaped his lips, "Please don't tell me you're being serious right now." He doubled over again, almost hitting his head to the car's ceiling.

"Oh shut up, you're talking as if you're any better." You rolled your eyes, opening the car door, with Heeseung doing the same, "Remember last September when you-"

"Do not even start right now." Heeseung glared, slamming his car door shut, "Come on, don't want to keep the hands waiting do we?"

Taking a deep breath and letting it out rather too quickly, you pushed on the neon pink decorated door, which opened with a tinkling sound. The smell of lavender hung around, an unfamiliar scent for a tattoo store, which was covered in rock posters from head to toe, along with a few blue beads here and there, the kind Heeseung liked to collect.

"Hey." You greeted the red haired girl behind the counter, "I have an appointment under the name Y/N."

The girl looked up and sent you a quick smile before looking down at her computer, her eyes whipping around before finding a spot she thought was satisfactory.

"Yep right here." She popped her lips together, "I'll see if anyone is free Ma'am, could you wait for a minute?"

You smiled at her as if to say yes and plopped down on the couch next to Heeseung, who had been analysing the store with a lot of vigour in his eyes.

"It's fancy." He whispered, eyeing the girl at the counter, "Let's just hope your man comes out and you can get to catcall him before he goes."

"I am not going to catcall him, im not you." You chuckled, getting distracted from the conversation when you saw a black haired figure from the corner of your eye.

"Is that-?" Heeseung didn't even have to finish his sentence. He knew, judging from the look in your eyes and the fact that your mouth fell slightly open, that this was the person he ever so passionately called "your man".

You were mesmerised.

No, mesmerised wasn't the right word.

You were starstruck.

Maybe your hormones were on a whole different level, maybe you had just been dick-deprived for a long time, or maybe it was the lavender fumes, but you truly thought you had seen a Greek God fill the vision of your corneas.

"Y/N. Y/N!"

You felt Heeseung's elbow jab you painfully in the side, which was effective in breaking you out of your stupor. You blinked a couple of times, to see the red haired woman and Jay looking at you in what seemed to be amusement.

The woman coughed to defuse the seeming tention, you swore you could feel Heeseung awkwardly smiling for your left.

Well they always say bad beginnings have good endings don't they?

"So," A steady hand carefully polished the silver of the miniscule needle, "Y/N was it?"

Though the air conditioning was turned onto a high, you could feel sweat drops form at your forehead, why were his hands polishing the needle so erotically?

"Y-Yeah. You're Jay right?" You managed to cough out, feeling yourself immediately melt into the chair leather chain again when his eyes fell on you. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, seemingly darting around to catch it's prey, but never leaving one point of focus.

"Nervous?" Jay chuckled, "Don't be, unless you're chronically afraid of needles."

"I am." You laughed, leaning back a little more comfortably on the chair, "Probably shouldn't have gotten a tattoo then should I?"

"Perhaps not on your most sensitive area." Jay nodded, sitting in front of you, his legs spread wide open, did he realise how welcoming that was to you?, "Most people go for the arm, I'm surprised you went for your thigh."

"Heeseung told me it doesn't hurt much." You braced yourself in the chair at the sight of Jay's needle pressing into his tattoo machine, "He's a tattoo artist too."

"I should make a friend of him then." Jay chuckled, looking into your eyes, he could bore deepwells in them and you thought you'd forgive such a handsome man like him, "How did you meet him?"

"Are you-" you gave him a funny look, "Are you trying to make conversation with me?"

"It helps most of them." Jay shrugged and smiled at you, you noticed his dimple come off his cheek, the one you saw last week, whilst spying on him from your bedroom window.

"So, new neighbour who I've never talked to until now," Jay raised his eyes up to you, "How about some conversation to lessen the pain?"

You had always known since you were a child that you had the attention span of a butterfly, eyes always zooming from one place to the other, but you never knew all you needed was a handsome face and some pretty hands to get you to focus.

Jay's deep voice soothed into your nerves, effectively proving his theory of "more talk, less pain". You hadn't noticed much of the tattooing process, except for a few instances here and there when his knuckles brushed across the skin of your thigh, making you mold your orgasmic whimpers into 'painful' winces. You could physically hear Heeseung in your brain telling you about your pain kink.

"So any relationship goals?" Jay asked you, your eyes briefly meeting with his, as his fingers stopped to move across the cross section, "I know that's sorta personal, don't answer if you don't want to."

"No it's fine." You laughed, pretending as if you didn't maniacally want to answer the question, "I'm still single for now, and as for goals, I'm free for ramen tomorrow, and that's it."

"So how about ramen tomorrow then?" Jay smiled, looking up at you, his hands coming to a halt and resting softly on your thigh.

"Will we be eating or will we be talking like this?" You chuckled, your brain fog capturing you entirely as you had no idea what words were coming out of your mouth, "Because to be honest, I'd just be staring at either your lips or your hands if we do either of them."

The most painful part of getting a tattoo, according to the internet, was the beginning part, when you'd be so scared, because apparently fear paralyses you more than the actual tattoo process. But you now knew, the most painful part would probably be Jay's amused eyes staring at you, while your brain managed to catch up with what you just said.

"Oh- no! No I'm so sorry—i didn't mean-"

"It's fine sweetheart." Jay's soft voice stopped your panicking, he stifled a chuckle at your behaviour. Adorable, he thought.

"No I'm really sorry Jay, I shouldn't have said that." You apologised again, feeling the heat come upto your cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart." Jay chuckled, leaning in towards you, "Do you really think I had no idea of your pretty little face spying on me through your window?"

He knew?

"I must admit, you look cute in that flimsy tank top, which hides nothing by the way." His deep voice rang through your eardrums, "but don't worry, I won't press charges or anything on you for spying."

Your back pressed against the leather of the leaning chair, as Jay put his tattoo machine down. Taking off his gloves, his tongue swept across his lips in a swift motion, as his hands trapped you in a cage, laying on either side of you.

"May I?" Jay asked, not even waiting for permission, he already knew the next thing to come out of your mouth was a pathetic whimper.

Without a moment's waste, his soft lips landed on yours, hands rubbing to take off your shorts.

You soon became lost in his presence, lips meeting his in a fiery kiss. his tongue pushed past, kissing you like his life depended on it.

"Fuck sweetheart." Jay said, "You taste good."

You moaned quietly into his mouth, feeling his fingers trail down and start to rub your clit. Your hand came down to grab his cock, already half hard, and you could feel him growing with each stroke you gave him.

His fingers slipped past your clit, toying with your opening and eventually plunging in as deep as he could with the angle he was at. Your head fell back, resting on the leather of the chair as your pussy fluttered around his fingers.

“fuck, you're so tight.,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, chuckling as you let out a stifled whimper, "You like that baby? You like my fingers hm?"

He began to set a fast pace, one of his hands gripping your hip to keep you in place for him and the other hand next to your head. you could see the veins in his arms as it flexed beside you, no doubt he was trying to hold back.

Small whimpers came out of your mouth with each thrust, but then you heard it. Footsteps outside the room, you had forgotten you were in a public place in the heat of the moment. The footsteps died down after a few seconds.

“Just gonna have to keep those pretty sounds in. Wouldn’t want them to hear you,” You clenched down at that.

He chuckled, a devilish, almost cruel sounding chuckle like he had something in mind.

“oh you like that, huh? Like the idea of someone walking in on us fucking in here, watching us. Watching you come apart on my fingers. You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby? Dirty fucking slut.”

At that moment, he made it his mission to make you cum, hard. keeping one hand clamped around your mouth to stifle your moans, your eyes practically rolled back into your head when his fingers touched a particularly sensitive position, the new position making his fingers fuck impossibly deeper into you.

As you were nearing release Jay pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you.

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance

He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat.

His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock.

“You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds.

Jay's thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”. 

“fuck…you’re so tight” he says, pulling your legs up to sit on his shoulders as he thrusts inside you at a steady motion, fucking you deliciously in missionary. His eyes stare at your tits that are bouncing with each motion he pulls you in.

“fuck baby..i’m gonna cum…gonna cum inside” he says as he gets that dumb look on his face, he squeezes your breast with white knuckles as something to hold on to while his eyes roll back in his head, a beam of his sweat falling on your chest.

your orgasm comes as his does, his dick twitching inside of your cunt making it almost impossible to keep going.

“m’gonna cum too…” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you to feel his cum covering your walls. the warm liquid coming fast inside you.

as Jay pulls out, he’s met with his mess, the pool of his cum leaking out of your cunt.

His fingers make their way down and pump inside of you, the squelching noise of your wet pussy filling the room. His fingers make their way out of your cunt and up to your mouth, pushing in his cum covered fingers inside your mouth.

“Suck sweetheart.” he demands, and so you do. You suck the mixture of cum off of his fingers while maintaining eye contact, his thumb cradling your chin for support. You could get intoxicated on those eyes for centuries.

Jay's thumb swept out of your mouth swiftly, as his lips landed on yours again, pressing you into a sweet and chaste kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled away and supported your tired structure with his strong arms. You could see the veins flex on his hands.

"So how about that ramen date tomorrow hm?" Jay asked, his dimple once again appearing on his cheek, "that is, if you can handle staring at my hands while I eat."

"A ramen date, if I can walk by tomorrow." You chuckled, "So, I guess this messy hair is because I was struggling too much out of pain while getting the tattoo? Or should I tell Heeseung something else?"

"Tell him how good of an artist I am." Jay chuckled, "And that his friend won't have to spy through bedroom windows anymore."

"Was I really that noticeable?" You rolled your eyes playfully, as Jay handed you your shorts.

"Sweetheart you have no idea."

#jay #jay park #park jongseong #enhypen jay #enha jay #jay smut #park jay smut #park jay smut imagines #jay hard hours #jay hard thoughts #park jay hard thoughts #jay park hard hours #jay × reader #park jay × reader #enhypen × reader #enhypen smut imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen smut reactions #enha smut #enha smut imagines #enha × reader #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #jake hard hours #jake hard thoughts #sunghoon hard thoughts

[anonymouscheeses]

Obvious shit I noticed part 3 (spoilers for welcome to heaven)

Look at her! "Teehee"

Also she's nervous! Foreshadowing omg 🤯

STICKERS! Two pride stickers and a cute donut. Gives me an idea to draw Chaggie at a donut shop while everything is burning down <3 (I'll probably do it but if any artist wants to as well go ahead!)

*CHOKES ON COFFEE* I LOVE THEM. I'M SORRY I GET SO GIDDY WHEN THEY HAVE EVEN THE SMALLEST INTERACTION BUT UGHHH I NEED MORE, IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH 🙏🙏

KISSY! MWA! *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*

Vivzie give me more, moar now. MOAR

DAMN. SHE CAN THROW- or maybe it just exaggerates the perspective in this frame but still- ZAMNNN

Cherri x Sir Pentious fans RISE UP.

I wasn't ever really a fan of it myself but I always thought it was CUTE. Like 3 seconds before this part I was already begging for them to kiss 😭

More foreshadowing!

AAAAAA CREEPY BIRD THINGS!!!

Oh wait- Sera's hot and Emily's already adorable

If heaven don't look like what this is in the show, I DONT WANT IT! (THATS A JOKE PLEASE DON'T SMITE ME)

JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND VAGGIE!! Can I just say how much I love Vaggie's face expressions? Not just here but like all the time. She's just made to be so exaggerated, out of all of them I thought it would be Charlie who would have the most dramatic faces but Vaggie wins it for me. I JUST GIGGLE SO HARD WHEN SHE LOOKS LIKE THIS BAHAHAH

Okay yeah. It's very obvious now. Vaggie is definitely an ex-exterminator. They don't close in on Charlie here so it's made to subtly nudge the attention to Vaggie. HOW DID THEY IMMEDIATELY NOTICE IT WAS HER THO??

Hot-

That's it.

SHARE THAT MOTHUSSY GIRL-

YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE GREW OUT ALL OF THAT HAIR?!? YEAH ITS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE THEN BUT STILL AJJSJD.

But overall the design is pretty meh. I always loved the idea of short hair Vaggie and even have seen art of it but it's just yknow, alright. Reminds me of Cassandra from Tangled: the series. IM LISTENING TO ONE OF THE SONGS RIGHT NOW HELPPP

THIS SCENE HERE! WOOOOO! SO GLAD WE KNOW WHEN AND WHERE THEY FIRST MET!! Wish we got it extended tho. And also probably push it to next episode so it would have a better impact(atleast I think thats when they'll have the duet). BUT WHATEVER SOMETHING IS BETTER THAN NOTHING! or uh whatever

Vaggie must've been a bit terrified at first. The only sinner she ever sent mercy to was a child. Then to see someone who to her is an adult sinner who just looks really human, that must be crazy. BUT THEN IF SHE WAS TOLD THAT CHARLIE WAS ACTUALLY THE PRINCESS OF HELL? HOOOO, LOCK IN AND STEAL HER. THAT'S SOME WATTPAD SHIT. Also, I wonder how long Charlie thought of redeeming sinners. It would make sense to be after meeting Vaggie, since it could have been a wake up call to the fact not all sinners are bad people. Even though Vaggie isn't a sinner technically, Charlie didn't know that at the time. But maybe Charlie was always like this but just needed to meet someone who could start her dream with her. Long rant uhhh

Haha penis 🫵

SCRAP WHATEVER I SAID IN THE FIRST PART. THEY PROBABLY DO FUCK- OR DONT?? I DONT KNOW- ANYWAY LESBIAN SEX (BOTTOM TEXT). WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH??? SOMEONE PULL THE TRIGGER.

Lute looks like a basic asf anime gorl. Adam doesn't ever take his helmet off, or maybe he just can't. OH HE'S DOING THE GAY SIGN 💅💅 Very appropriate for what he's saying

Mentor, apprentice. I love that Husk is just trying to help Angel grow but isn't going to force him into it if he doesn't want to.

Im not a fan of huskerdust and think they'd be better friends as I can't imagine a relationship with them at all. But it's still nice and they are supportive of eachother so that's like- yknow. Basic rules. Or something like that. (HELP. I ruined it all at the last part)

I- girl- WHY IS SHE GROWLING?? GRR GRR RR (INSERT TWILIGHT SAGA HERE)

VAGGIE'S FACE. SENDS ME. WHO GAVE HER THESE OVERDRAMATIC EXPRESSIONS, I APPLAUD YOU RGAGAGA

Ooo... I didnt like this part at all... Instead of making the choice she just runs off. Then because the plot demands it, Adam says nothing. Kinda whish she atleast avoided the question, maybe in some way that would require actual thinking? For a character like Vaggie, she could choose either way and it feel like it's still her. If she chose to protect Charlie's dream, she would still be perfectly loyal to her but in the act of so would reveal a secret that could harm their relationship(which does happen at the end but that's because the plot wanted it like that). If she chose to side with Adam, she'd be hurting Charlie emotionally, sure, but it would keep a secret that could make Charlie see Vaggie less than who she is to her already(atleast what Vaggie might think would happen). Imo it should've been her deciding to protect Charlie, since it would mean she's devoted to her at all times.

ANOTHER THING! IF SHE COULDN'T MAKE THE CHOICE, THAT IS SOMETHING INTERESTING TO GO INTO. Maybe it could go deeper into how Vaggie doesn't know who she is without Charlie. So when she has a choice to make, like here, she can't do it without feeling the need to ask Charlie. BUT NOOO, YA HAD TO GO WITH THIS!! Wow. That was a long ass rant. Wtf 😭

Maybe I'm a dumbass. Maybe they'll talk about that next episode, but still, atleast touch on it a bit to not seem rushed?

Angel looking out for his kids like a mom. We always did need the motherly figure, the one closest to that being Charlie but girl needs a mother in her life too(damn, wait, I did her so dirty).

Huh, so why does it work here then? 🤨🤨 if it was said in the contract that Valentino can do whatever he wants only in the studio, then why is this the exception? 🤨🤨

Yes I'm stupid. Why do you ask? (No genuinely what's happening here)

OH ITS THE IMAGE! I really like Sera so far, hope we get more of her soon or in season 2.

Now that we know the context of this, yeah, that's fucking insane. And badass. WOMEN.

HMM. THATS STRANGE. DID YOU NOT FOR ONCE THINK THERE COULD BE A POSSIBILITY SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN ANGEL? Okay I probably wouldn't either but I have an excuse, I'm an idiot. Some girl with a standing out outfit, with one eye, looks unusually human, right after/during the extermination... that's pretty solid ass proof. But I'm dumb so don't take anything i say seriously :D

Imagine this. No- shit. Just-

JUST LOOK! THEY ARE SO CUTE! EVEN THOUGH CRAZY SHIT IS HAPPENING.

*SWEATS*

Vaggie is DESPERATE. PLEADING. That's obvious yeah, but don't mind me I had nothing to say for the last 3 images I just thought they were cool

I mean. Slay I guess. 😍💅

Do all the exterminators look similar or is it just Lute and Vaggie? 🤨

Even though Vaggie and Charlie may be going through this horrible thing with a hard punch in the gut, but Vaggie is always going to comfort her and I just think that's so adorable.

Also Adam looks like a chicken hah.

Everyone fears to be like Lucifer. If they don't do bad things they believe are for the greater good and make sacrifices that put them higher than those in hell, they could themselves be fallen. It's really interesting but I don't know if it's going to be fleshed out enough with the amount of episodes left. Which also worries me about everything else that still hasn't be concluded. There's gonna be loose strings I just know it. Hopefully though they rather do that then rush everything out y'know?

I want the next episode to be mostly focused on Vaggie and Charlie's relationship and the healing of what happened. Not for the entire episode of course, it would feel drawn out if it did, but atleast address the problem for the first like I would say 10 minutes? Then the rest would focus on one or two loose threads while also having Vaggie and Charlie acting upon moving on. That's just my idea but yeah-

#MORE OBVIOUS SHIT I NOTICED #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel emily #chaggie #hazbin hotel chaggie #rainbowmoth #hazbin chaggie #hazbin hotel spoilers

[vhstown]

super short london slang guide !!

i haven't got a scooby doo about cockney so this is mainly gonna be mle and like the way 14 year old secondary school boys talk oookay let's go (just so yk i am a londonder!!!!!)

direct things to call people (or avoid calling people)

bruv, blud, man, mate, fam (can use in replacement of a pronoun like he, she, you and i or for emphasis — "man's got a meeting, bruv!")

more on "man" it can be used in plural too — "us man" or "them man" or "you man"

my g, my guy (for referring someone you are friendly/friends with)

bossman (something you'd call a shop or business owner — "aye bossman get me the 3 wings and chips yeah")

big man (usually used in a sarcastic friendly but kind of demeaning way, the older cousin of "big guy" — "oi big man what you sayin' cuz?"

i wasnt going to put these here cause of personal preference but 😭 people are gonna use them anyway so i might as well tell you what they mean:

peng (adjective cute/pretty — "her? she's peng!")

leng (adjective hot/sexy — "rah, he's leng you know?)

nouns

ting (usually to refer to a girlfriend but can also just mean "thing"... or a knife? — "don't chat to my ting fam!")

grim (very outdated word for a promiscuous woman — "she's a grim bruv!")

skeng (gun)

shank, spinner (knife)

paper, Ps, pronounced "peas" (money)

ends (neighbourhood, area — "if i catch you in my ends yeah")

mandem (group of friends — "having a laugh at the pub with the mandem" aha)

gyaldem (group of women / female friends)

ganja (weed)

blem (cigarette)

pagan/paigon (snitch or untrustworthy person, not a super common you might wanna use "snake" or "snitch" instead)

wasteman (someone who's useless, a lowlife)

pussio/pussyo (pussy, coward)

other common words and phrases

wagwan, or "wag1" in text (what's up, what's going on)

bare (a lot — "i got bare problems with him!")

gassed (prideful, full of yourself — "im actually so gassed, man got promoted"

"and that" (instead of "and stuff" — "i got links and that")

"allow it" (let something slide — "i forgot my wallet allow it bossman")

safe (like "alright cool", or as a bye — "aight safe")

"pattern up" (fix up, get it together)

hard, tight (cool, good, though "hard" is also used in an offensive way — "bro thinks he's hard, pussio")

blam (to get shot, not actually very common to hear in my experience)

sheffed (up), shanked (to get stabbed)

ahlie (used as an interjection when in agreement with something, similar to phrase "am i lying?")

non-mle specific words i hear sometimes

thick (dumb, stupid)

clapped/tapped (ugly, weird, unattractive)

merk/murk (kill, beat up)

slag, sket (slut)

chav (used to refer to someone of the low social status, associated with violent or rude behaviour)

taking the mick, taking the piss (being annoying)

mad (means crazy obviously but people use it a lot, can have positive and negative connotations — "that's mad!")

nonce (literally means pedophile / sex offender, do what you will with it 😭)

dickhead, bellend (similar to douchebag)

wanker (used towards someone you dislike, or in a joking way)

geezer (usually to refer to an old man)

also!!!

depending on which communities are predominant in the area, words from other languages can come in / have come in

some words are common with US slang too because they share origins 😁 ain't that cool

there's a lot of influence from jamaican patois due to the history of british jamaicans in london for ex in words like "ting" or "mandem" or "wagwan" (hence why mle is sometimes referred to as "jafrican") and its not strange to hear "bomboclaat" or "bloodclaat" here either

in communities where there's muslims and arabs (especially in east london) you might hear arabic terms like "wallahi", "khalas" or "astagfirullah" (though people debate whether that's cultural appropriation or not)

south asians have also had an influence with words like "gora" or "ganja" though again this is largely area based and the impact of hinglish is also found a lot outside of london

some people have a mix of different dialects! i mainly alternate between mle and estuary (sometimes yorkshire don't ask it is very easy to pick up...)

you're not gonna hear every single word here all the time the usage varies throughout london. the way north and west londoners speak can be v different for example

uhhhh if you wanna learn properly just listen to some grime or sutn . listen to londoners speak!

for some more resources in-depth PLEASE check out these guides made by other british people ! (one and two)

ok that's it bye bye british ppl & londoners feel free to add on! it is midnight rn so ive probably missed stuff lol... dms are open in case you've got any questions or want any help :p

#vee rants #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider uk #hobart brown #hobie brown #hobie brown x gn!reader #british accent #london accent #potential to be edited

[joannechocolat]

On Power, and on Powering Through, and Why They’re Really Not the Same

I don’t pay much attention to personal attacks in reviews. It comes as the flipside of success; an attempt by the critic to puncture what they see as too much success. But I still remember one review, just after the film of Chocolat, when two of my novels happened to be in the Top 5 at the same time, in which a (male) newspaper critic referred to me dismissively as a premenopausal woman writer. I was a little taken aback. Clearly, it was meant to disparage, but I was only 35, ten years away from the perimenopause. What exactly did he mean? It wasn’t a comment about the book (which I doubt he had even read). The obvious misogyny aside, it seemed to express resentment, not of my books, but of me, myself, my right to take up space in his world. That word – premenopausal – was at the same time a comment on my age, my looks, my value, and a strong suggestion that someone like me shouldn’t be this successful, shouldn’t be writing bestsellers, shouldn’t be so – visible.

I don’t recall the name of the man, or the paper for which he was writing. He was far from being the only journalist who felt I didn’t deserve success. I shrugged off the unpleasant comment, but he’d meant it to hurt, and it did. I still wonder why he – and his editor - thought that was appropriate. I also wonder why, 20 years on, women are still dealing with this kind of thing. It’s still not enough for a woman to be successful in her chosen field. Whatever her achievements, you can be pretty sure that at some point, some man in his 50s or 60s – maybe an Oxbridge graduate, author of an unpublished novel or two - will offer his opinion on her desirability, either in the national Press, or most likely nowadays, by means of social media. The subtext is clear: women who don’t conform to societal values of what a woman should be are asking for this kind of treatment; especially those who dare to achieve more than their detractors.

10 years after that nasty review, I finally began the journey into perimenopause. No-one told me it was happening. No-one in the media was talking about it at the time. Even my doctor never thought to mention that my symptoms – the insomnia, headaches, mood swings, anxiety, depression, sleep paralysis, hair loss, brown patches on my skin – might have a single origin. I began to feel I was losing my mind: as if I were starting to disappear. I started to doubt my own senses. I blamed it all on the stress from my job. My mother had powered through menopause – or so she led me to believe – and made no secret of her contempt for modern women who complained, or treated the symptoms as anything more than a minor inconvenience.

And so I did the same. I powered through; and when at last I began to experience the classic symptoms of menopause - irregular bleeding, hot flushes, exhaustion, night sweats so bad that I would awake in sheets that were wringing wet – it did not occur to me to seek help. After over a year of this, I finally went to my doctor, who took a few tests, cheerfully announced I was menopausal, and when I inquired after HRT, advised me to power through – that phrase again - and let Mother Nature take her course. The internet was slightly more helpful. I took up running, lost weight, cut down on alcohol, downed supplements and sleeping pills and vitamin D, and felt a little better. Then, breast cancer came to call, and by the time my treatment was done, the symptoms had more or less disappeared, or at least had been superseded by the symptoms of chemo. I congratulated myself at having powered through cancer as well as surviving menopause.

But two years later, I feel old. I look that way, too. I’ve aged ten years. Some of that’s the cancer, of course. I was quite open about my treatment when I was powering through it – partly in order to pre-empt any questions about my hair loss or any of the all-too visible effects of three courses of chemo. Not that it stopped the comments, though. Even at my lowest ebb, a sector of social media made it clear that my only concern should be to look young and feminine to anonymous men on Twitter.

Right now, I don’t feel either. My hair has gone grey and very thin. My skin, too, seems thinner; both physically and mentally. At a recent publishing event, several acquaintances failed to recognize me; others just looked through me as if I had become invisible. Invisibility would be a relief; I find myself dressing for camouflage. I tend to wear baggy black outfits. I got my OBE last week. Photographs in the Press show me talking to Prince William. I’m wearing a boxy black trouser suit, flat shoes and a red fedora. I think I look nice. Not glamorous, but comfortable; quirky; unpretentious.

On a thread of largely supportive messages, one Twitter user pops up to say: Jesus, who’d accept an honour looking like that middle-aged disaster? @Joannechocolat thought she’d make an impact? She needs a stylist. If you look in the dictionary for the definition of “dowdy”, it features this photo.

It’s not the same man who belittled me over 20 years ago. But the sentiment hasn’t changed. Regardless of your achievements, as a woman, you’ll always be judged on your age and fuckability. I ought to be used to this by now. But somehow, that comment got to me. Going through menopause isn’t just a series of physical symptoms. It’s how other people make you feel; old, unattractive, and strangely ashamed.

I think of the Glass Delusion, a mental disorder common between the 14th and 17th centuries, characterized by the belief that the sufferer was made of glass. King Charles VI of France famously suffered from this delusion, and so did Princess Alexandra Amélie, daughter of Ludwig 1st of Bavaria. The condition affected mostly high-profile individuals; writers, royals, intellectuals. The physician to Philip II of Spain writes of an unnamed royal who believed he was a glass vase, which made him terribly fragile, and able to disappear at will. It seems to have been a reaction to feelings of social anxiety, fear of change and the unknown, a feeling both of vulnerability and invisibility.

I can relate. Since the menopause, I’ve felt increasingly broken. I don’t believe I’m a glass vase, and yet I know what it feels like to want to be wrapped in a protective duvet all day. I’ve started buying cushions. I feel both transparent, and under the lens, as if the light might consume me. On social media, I’ve learnt to block the people who make mean comments. To make myself invisible. To hide myself in plain sight. I power through, but sometimes I think: why do women power through? And who told them that powering through meant suffering in silence?

Fortunately, some things have changed since I went through the menopause. Over the past few years, we’ve seen more people talking about their experiences. Menopause is likely to affect half the population. We should be talking about it. If men experienced half these symptoms, you bet they’d be discussing it. Because power isn’t silence. You’d think that, as writer, I would have worked that out sooner. Words are power. Sharing is strength. Communication breaks down barriers. And sometimes, power means speaking up for those less able to speak for themselves.

I look at myself in the mirror. I see my mother’s mouth; my father’s eyes. I see the woman I used to be; the woman I will one day become. I see the woman my husband loves, a woman he still finds attractive. A woman with a grown-up child who makes her proud every single day. A menopausal woman. A cancer survivor. A woman who writes books that make other people sit up and think. A woman who doesn’t need the approval of some man she’s never met to be happy. She can be happy now. I can. And finally, I understand.  Powering through isn’t about learning to be invisible. It isn’t about acceptance, or shame, or letting Nature take its course, or lying about feeling broken. It’s looking beyond your reflection. It’s seeing yourself, not through the lens of other people’s expectations, but as yourself. The sum of everything you’ve been; of everyone who loves you. Of claiming your right to be more than glass, or your reflection in it. The right to be valued. The right to shine, regardless of age or reproductive status. Men seldom question their own right to these things. But women have to fight for them. That’s why it’s so exhausting.

This morning, instead of putting on my usual baggy black sweatshirt, I chose a bright yellow pullover. I looked at myself in the mirror. It’s not a great colour on me now, but it feels like dressing in sunshine. My husband came into the bathroom. You look –

My husband rarely gives compliments. I can’t remember the last time he commented on how I was dressed. I wondered what he was going to say. Dowdy, perhaps? Inappropriate? Like a menopausal woman in dire need of a stylist?

At last, he said: When you smile like that, you look like a friendly assassin.

A friendly assassin. I’ll take that.  

Shining like the sun. That’s me.

#menopause #cancer

[akajustmerry]

Can someone please explain this richonne van lore to me? I can't listen to the podcast you mentioned

oh, I will GLADLY. so season 7 episode 12 of The Walking Dead is called 'Say Yes' and is widely known as the rick and michonne honeymoon episode by cast and fans alike. It aired in 2017.

For context, it's not a literal honeymoon but those are the vibes. it's the first episode dealing with their relationship properly after they first get together in season 6. Rick and Michonne hornily volunteer for a sneaky cheeky supply run to go retrieve supplies surrounded by a herd of Walkers.

Rick and Michonne are horny as fuck so the episode has lots of them kissing and so forth. now, the VAN SCENE™ is them in the back of the van they've been driving around making out very aggressively. it's as close as TWD can ever get to a sex scene where people are not having sex because TWD was a cable TV show. It's a very brief scene, less than 30 seconds but it's uhh VERY hot.

after the episode aired, Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln were asked about shooting these scenes on a panel (I can't find a link but if I do I'll put it here/if anyone has one lmk). both of them mention that, while shooting the van scene, there was a take where they got so "carried away" the footage would never be released. the director of the episode also joked he keeps the footage locked up. None of them ever really said what was in the footage but....well, we're all adults and we can all have a guess. and that's all we could do.... UNTIL NOW.

So, there's a podcast called Richonne Revelry, hosted by some huge fans of TWD. In an episode they released earlier this year about the trailer for The Ones Who Live, one of the hosts mentioned that they met, TWD director Greg Nicotero. Nicotero directed 'Say Yes' and so the podcast host says that she asked Nicotero to tell her about the van scene shoot.

ACCORDING TO HER, Nicotero spilled the beans. Apparently, they just set up the gear in the van with no crew as a closed set and told Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln they could just do their thing, which is pretty standard for scenes like that. BUT, according to the host of this podcast, Nicotero said that when his crew got the footage, it was wayyyyyy too raunchy (she says he told her danai was topless for most of it) and danai and andrew were making out so uh.....intensely that the footage couldn't even be spliced to make it appropriate for the show. Danai and Andrew, apparently, were very shocked they had to reshoot because they were actually really happy with it, but Nicotero insisted they do it again and rein it in so they could have some usable footage. The version of the scene we see in the show is the "tame" reshot version, allegedly.

All of this is alleged, of course. A lot of people joke like it's a sex tape, but honestly nudity guidelines for commercial TV are so strict and specific it doesn't take much for any intimate footage to become unusable. Plus, unsimulated sex is a hugeeee no no in mainstream entertainment. Productions get crucified over it. so if that had happened we absolutely would not have heard about it, let alone hear actors joking about it for years. But anyways, that's the lore! One thing we can all agree on is that Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln are DEDICATED to their craft, by all reports lmao. personally, I'm just glad to hear a behind the scenes story about actors getting carried away in the moment which DOESN'T involve anyone getting hurt or mistreated 🥰

#richonne #andrew lincoln #danai gurira #the walking dead #and imo they're so valid for all of that <333 #also ppl thinking they having some type of affair when they're actually just theatre trained so they're insane theatre kids #twd van lore

[ghouljams]

hi!! helloo!!! you're writing is simply AMAZING and i LOVE the way you headcannon the guys!!!

i just had a quick coupla thots and i wanted to share them so i hope this makes sense!!

the first thing i thought of when reading "a letter from your future husband" was johnnys reaction to a return letter

maybe it's too much wine and dancing after a party, maybe it's just too stiflingly hot watching other people in the castle, maybe it's a particularly scandalous letter and reader is just feeling impulsive, but when johnny gets his hands on that letter? by GOD he's drooling and tenting his pants and booking it to his chambers because he won't let anyone else in the castle look at your handwriting before he gets the chance to

when johnny finally sees your handwriting? he's hooked. when he actually READS it? he's FERAL. one of the first lines is something like "I am very thankful for the instructions in your letters, without them, I would have never known personal pleasure before we are officially wed" he nearly cums in his pants but is also SO UPSET that he didn't get to see your corruption in real time- he'd foam at the mouth the first time he sets his eyes on you

you can barely make out the writing in the letter he sends back, because he starts writing it the second he cums all over his hands after reading your letter to him

(ps- have a good day!!)

Soap getting a letter in return?? Oh my.... Well he'd certainly have trouble controlling himself with it.

It's truly unfortunate that he had to rush back home to Scotland without you, his poor bride sitting, wasting away without him in (ugh) England, but certain matters had arisen that needed his attention, his in-person attention. Nothing that would prevent him from writing you though. He's tugging his riding gloves off when the butler hands him a letter with your pretty red seal. Soap takes in a sharp breath through his nose. You only write him when you are truly mad, sending him the sorts of letters that make him sure it isn't anger that guides your hand. The sort of letters he'll punish you for when he sees you next.

He takes it to his room. Cracking the wax seal and palming himself through his trousers at the first glimpse of your neat loops. He hums to himself, bringing the letter to his nose, smelling your soft perfume with a smile. Christ he misses you, sweet thing that you are trying to scare him off. He knows you want nothing more than to melt for him.

"You are a wicked and horrible man," You tell him in your opening line and Soap thinks about digging his teeth into your neck, marking you where someone proper might see, "Never in my life has a man talked to me like you do. I don't even know if I can call you a man, an animal is more appropriate. You do nothing but attempt to lead me to ruin. God only knows the thoughts that you inspire in me, and he will surely condemn me for them.

'Don't call me 'wife' as if that absolves you of the sin you send me. Though I suppose I should thank you for one thing; now that I know I can pleasure myself I have no need for you. You're free to move on to your next plaything and have fun tormenting her. I will welcome the reprieve from your letters."

Soap smiles to himself, he can almost hear your pouting. As if he'd ever want anyone else. Poor thing, who told you you weren't enough for him? It certainly wasn't Soap. It's good knowing you're touching yourself to his letters. He pauses, smells the letter again, imagines he can smell the wetness on your fingers when you wrote it. Naughty thing, did you roll off the bed just to talk to him?

"How would you like receiving obscene letters? No love in them, no politeness or care. You hardly treat me like a woman set to be your wife. If you can't say you love me, why should I do the same? You only want to talk about sex, fine.

'It is unbearable to have you in my thoughts. I never know if I'm upset or pleased, but my skin grows hot and my shift sticks to me. I can't think of anything but your awful letters and your stupid smile and every other terrible part of you. I lay awake at night with my hand between my legs because you have encouraged, no, insisted on such debauchery. I am utterly ruined because of you and I know it must only bring you pleasure to hear that. So stroke your cock to whatever you like, only think of me while you do it.

Imagine me like I imagine you, think of my fingers and my mouth and [scribbled out] Why do your letters make me feel like this, why do they make my heart pound? What power do you have that makes me keep them? Why do I miss you when I despise you so? Why did you have to leave me, I'm sor

I wish I wasn't thinking of you."

Oh, his sweet lass. He kisses your signature, pulls his aching cock free of his pants and groans. He shouldn't have been so cruel to you, poor thing. Of course you're upset, he left you all alone and is teasing you so terribly. Fuck he loves how passionate you are, how your handwriting grows sloppy before you cross it out; loves the slight discoloration to the paper beside the edge of your text where the paper dried.

You are the object of all his desires and yet you write to him like he could have anyone else. He could. He wants you. Wants you in every way he can have you.

Soap strokes his cock and reaches for a pen.

"You think I don't imagine you in every way I could? Your fingers wrapped around my cock, your lips against my throat, your voice in my ear? Do I need to show you for you to believe me?"

He already knows. The next time he sees you, he'll take your hand and place it right where it should be.

"It's just you my bonnie wife, it's only ever been you."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap cod #regency au #courting letters #sort of

[angstics]

i finally articulated my opinion on my "is gerard way doing drag" question. my definition of drag is when a person impersonates, exaggerates, or appropriates a mode of gender expression. drag can be artistic or political (or both). drag can be an identity. drag and transgender identity are confused as the same thing. for some, it is. what is considered cross dressing can also be considered drag. it's important to note that drag is essential to queer culture, and how the us government harasses queer people through cross dressing, and now anti-drag, laws. we wouldnt be here talking about pop artists doing drag without drag performers and nonbinary-trans-gnc people.

to some people, a self-identified man in a female-identified dress is drag. "cross dressing" depends on cishet norms. queer people, especially nonbinary-trans-gnc people, have called to dismantle the assignment of gender to clothing. under that lens, a man in a dress is just a man in a dress -- for it to be drag, context and intent matters. that's how you get women doing female drag, or androgynous people doing what gerard way's been doing this last year on tour.

in asking "is gerard way doing drag?", im assigning importance to the topic. does it matter? within my understanding, drag is about intent and context as much as gender presentation. intent and context is what makes something important. therefore: understanding why the question is important solves it.

male music artists have a long history of cross dressing and doing drag. there's a good chance plugging any dude into a search engine with "drag" or "skirt" will bring something up. bowie, queen, nirvana, manic street preachers, placebo. here's a list. newer artists: lil nas x, harry styles, anthony green, pete wentz, young thug. some are impersonating female caricatures, some are masculinizing female clothes (long, ill-fitting, straight). some, like molko and lil nas, wear feminine clothes without exaggerating or masculinizing. gerard is in that same grey area.

male music artists have a long history of cross dressing and doing drag -- photos: "i want to break free" mv by queen (1984) / placebo in london (oct 1998) / lil nas x at audacy beach festival (dec 5, 2021) / fall out boy at rock for people (june 17, 2022)

all that history is why it was so weird when kerrang called gerard's riot fest "dress and heels" "a compelling show of contrarian anti-rock star eccentricity". it is not anti-rock star, at least not as described. it may be compelling, contrarian, and eccentric, but no reviewer really cares to analyze why. the closest they get is by identifying non-binary connection (them.us) and its relation to the "minefield that is American gender politics today" (latimes.com).

fans were struck by way's outfits for a lot of other reasons.

1. we have to get it out of the way that they just looked hot -- gerard is perpetually attractive, skirts are pretty. easy equation.

2. he has a long history of gender nonconformity. more on that in my #mcr queer studies tag. gerard is a 45 year old famously androgynous person who doesnt do labels, aligns himself with gender nonconformity (2014 reddit ama, 2018 advocate article, 2015 he/they tweet), and doesnt seem to care to be known as a man.

3. the tour outfits were well-fitted. many were crafted by skilled designer marina toybina and her team. which leads to ->

4. the outfits were very casual and very feminine. as mentioned, most men opt for masculine, ill-fitting skirts. which is to say they are NOT showing leg and they are definitely not showing ass. gerard doesnt steer clear from shortness or tightness or movement. he also dresses in ways people dress day to day -- the miniskirt is as casual as the shorts as casual as the jeans. there's some discussion to be had about what casual means -- he could be imitating expected presentation or just using basics, like his frequent shirt and pants.

the miniskirt is as casual as the shorts as casual as the jeans -- photos: firefly music festival (sept 23, 2022) / uncasville (sept 1, 2022) / eden project night 1 (may 16, 2022)

5. there was variety. many outfits, many types. he wasnt just doing pure femininity. some looks were high concept, some low concept. some gendered, some genderless. some feminine, some masculine. it was playful. its honesty evident in its fluidity yet cohesiveness. expanded in the next points ->

6. they incorporate elements of masculinity and gender neutrality concurrent with the feminine. his aggressive, energetic performance style often doesnt mind what people are seeing when his skirt lifts or shirt droops. he has little to no make-up -- if he does, it's stage and not glam. the closest he gets is the agender black swan look at boston night 1, the stage contour at wwwy night 3, and dubious lipstick at firefly. he also maintains the same hairstyle: barely styled, not straightened-curled. pinned a few times, gelled back some other times.

he has little to no make-up -- if he does, it's stage and not glam -- photos: boston night 1 (sept 7, 2022) / when we were young night 3 (oct 29, 2022) / firefly music festival (sept 23, 2022)

7. the character outfits weren't caricatures, like green's sleazy hooker or queen's uptight housewives. gerard's characters were appropriated but not exaggerated. cheerleader, nurse, manson girl, jackie o, princess diane, st joan. all figures of pop culture. he wore them as they were. even comparing green and way's similar white-green cheerleader costumes there's a difference in presentation. green wears long leggings, way wears shorts. green's costume is based on a stranger things character, way's is a custom remade vintage outfit. green exhibits the masculinization of feminine clothes which way subverts. this comparison highlights what makes way's outfits different, and therefore exciting to talk about.

green exhibits the masculinization of feminine clothes which way subverts -- photos: saosin in garden grove, ca (oct 27, 2022) / mcr in nashville, tn (aug 23, 2022)

8. and when he played with masculinity, it was in a way that was dubbed "boydrag". the new jersey night 2 casino singer look was a dramatic caricature that heightened masculine features until they were pure style... the defintion of camp. he had a mustache -- thin like john waters or a confirmed bachelor, and drawn on with eyeliner. he had a suit -- a pink-gold, glittery woman's cut jacket with a glittery bowtie and pleated shirt. the dramatic flair is accentuated by the black eye make-up, the frank sinatra "my way" cover, the drum tag: "the house always wins".

the defintion of camp -- photos: new jersey night 2 (sept 21, 2022) 1 / 2

when i asked which outfits others considered drag, all replies identified the casino singer and jackie o as drag and the rest as "just clothes". this relation made me understand why the rest couldnt be drag despite all the connections i talked about above. the jackie o outfit doesnt exaggerate the source like casino singer, but the source itself is both highly dramatic and highly gendered. cheer is gendered but not highly dramatic, st joan dramatic but not highly gendered. diane is gendered and dramatic, but not highly. the list goes on and on. it's a fine line. especially cheer could tip into drag for me.

but the source itself is both highly dramatic and highly gendered -- photos: mcr at riot fest (oct 12, 2022) / jackie kennedy onassis (jan 3, 1971)

if drag is understood in this way, simply wearing gendered clothes isnt drag. the look itself has to be about the performance of gender, however that may be presented. that’s the importance of classification. we can see what the artist is doing.

#mcr #gerard way #mcr queer studies #mcr performance studies #qessay #mcr fashion studies

[toxicanonymity]

Cargo. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 4)

3.1k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader 18+ / pt 1 / master list

His arms loosen and you turn around to face him.  Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You try to kiss him and he dodges you again, going for your neck instead. . . He starts giving you a light hickey.  "You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  | next: part 5

Thank you @dark-scape for the mood board (and sounding board).

CONTENT WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW 18+ Noncon somnophilia just the tip (don't get too excited) dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral (M receiving), alcohol, reader wears his shirt, excessive dialogue, elvis reference, sex work references, NO HOG BBQ YET SORRY- It took on a life of its own, needed its own part (next Sunday) and I think you'll see why the pacing is better that way.

Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-face All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione Lmk if i missed you. Idk why some are buggy.

-

The hotel shampoo and body wash smell like Joel after his shower, which makes you want to take the bottles with you.  After your bath, you lounge on your bed in a towel, air-drying, finishing the movie, and replaying the night in your mind.  Mainly how hot Joel looked between your legs.  You also dwell on the fact that he wouldn’t really kiss you.  Apparently, he won't sleep in the same bed with you either.  It hurts.  Like, it's physically painful.  

You go across the suite to Joel's room for a shirt to sleep in.  His door is cracked open and there's a green flannel folded on top of his luggage.  It’s not weather-appropriate and you wonder if he brought it for you.   He's tucked in, already asleep on his stomach with his shirt off, a massive arm sticking out over the white comforter and another under his pillow.   You drop your towel to put the shirt on – leisurely, hoping he wakes up to the tempting sight – but he's already sleeping soundly.   You've never seen his face so relaxed, but his brow is still somewhat furrowed.  

You sit down on his bed to fasten a couple of buttons.  He doesn't  wake up.  The irony doesn't escape you that you're watching him sleep when he's supposed to be the creep.  Why doesn't he try to fuck you, you wonder.  His words to Chad echo in your mind: If she told her father, you wouldn't be breathing.  But that's obviously different, you think. That was about someone breaking your heart and physically intimidating you.   

-

The hotel bed is tightly made, with the comforter tucked under the mattress on the side Joel isn't using.  You wonder if you could slip inside without waking him up.  You move the pillows out of the way, then slowly, inch by inch, wedge yourself under the sheets. When you're almost settled, he stirs.  He blinks a few times, squints at you, then sighs, "Trouble . . ."  He moves one of his pillows and hugs it, effectively putting something between you.  It stings.  You try to sleep but you end up sniffling.  

He hears you and wakes up again.  "C'mere, damnit," he half-whispers, half-asleep.  His gruff bedroom whisper makes you wet.  He lifts up his arm but doesn't turn on his side or move the pillow.  You rotate the pillow slightly and rest your head on it with his arm over your chest.  You drift off sooner than you expect.  

-

At some point in your sleep, you roll over facing away from him.  You wake up in the fetal position with Joel’s arm draped over you.  Joel has turned onto his side, too.  Your upper back is just barely against his chest.  You scoot your lower body backwards to spoon with him, and your naked ass meets the tip of his cock.  Arousal shoots through you like a bolt of lightning.  It's the first time you've actually had contact with it.  You didn't even realize he was naked. 

At the first contact, his hips instinctively press his cock up against you, sending all the blood in your body to your core.  You stifle a moan, not stopping to wonder why you don't want to wake him up.  You carefully maneuver your ass to nestle his cock between your thighs.  He thrusts in his sleep, gliding firm and wet against your folds, reaching your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

You unbutton your shirt then nudge his hand into it. His hand twitches and so does his cock. It pulls back a little and the tip is right at your entrance. Your hips tilt, nestling it there, the top curve of the head resting just inside without truly breaching you.  You could sink onto him right now.  It would be so easy.  But you want him to do it himself.  

You're absolutely throbbing, aching for him.  He pulls back again with a sigh, then his hard tip bypasses your tight, dripping hole and glides to your clit again and you softly moan.  You adjust your chest, wanting the movement of your breast to prompt his hand to cup around it.  But instead of cupping your breast, his hand drifts up your chest.  Then, it wraps loosely around your throat.

His voice is quiet but stern as his cock retreats then slides firmly against your clit with an aggressive thrust.  His hand applies light pressure around your throat.  “What’d I tell ya last night?”  

You remember it well, how you foolishly claimed you weren't gonna fuck him and he replied, oh, I'm not gonna let ya, sugar.  Blood drains from your face and your heart races. You scoff but don't say anything.  Having made his point, his hand goes slack again.  Humiliation drowns out your arousal and you begin to scoot away, but he follows you, effortlessly restraining you with one enormous arm.  

“Calm down," he says into your hair, then half-whispers under your ear, "I’m still gonna take care of ya,” as he palms your breast.  His hard cock nestles against your crack. 

"Lucky me," you say sarcastically and begin to squirm away, but both his arms wrap around you.  In a mocking tone, you parrot, "Take care of me," and add, "you're an actual whore, aren't you?"  A veiny hand slowly works your breast then trails down your torso and digs between your legs.  That’s all it takes for your arousal to return.  

He gathers your ample wetness and uses his middle and ring fingers in a way he must have been perfecting since before you were born.   You gasp and your back arches with tension building rapidly in your core.  His bicep flexes under your neck as his other hand slowly gropes your breasts.  His stiff cock slowly ruts against your ass while he touches you like you've never been touched before.  

He grunts and you gasp on the edge of your climax.  He softly bites your neck, and it sends you.  He sucks your neck as you come.   When your body finishes convulsing into his, his arms loosen and you turn around to face him. 

-

Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You can't resist. You try to kiss him.  

He fucking dodges you again, going for your neck instead.   "Haven't you seen Pretty woman?" Yeah, the one where a sex worker won’t kiss johns on the mouth because it’s too emotional . . .Joel starts giving you a light hickey.  

"You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  

He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  He opens his mouth to say something but stops short when you reach down and grab his cock.  Your mouth falls open at its hardness and the fact that his hand is already around it. 

He winces at your icy fingers. 

You get up on your knees and straddle his legs, pushing the plush luxury comforter behind you.  You fold at the hips and take a moment to admire his cock in your fist and breathe in his musk.  Your thumb lightly traces a vein, and he exhales with a soft grunt.  You look up and are greeted with a twinkle in his eye and a barely perceptible smirk.  You want to wipe that smirk off his face.  

You quickly succeed by holding eye contact while you wrap your lips around his swollen tip and tongue the slit.  It’s already salty with pre-cum.  He takes a deep breath and his lips part just barely.   He puts another pillow behind his head for a better view. His face falls into a trance.  When you begin to suck, he swallows and his jaw clenches.    His eyes darken. You bob your head on his cock, taking as much of his shaft as you can without gagging, stroking the rest with your hand. 

“Fuck,” he pants.  His quads tense under you and his breathing changes. His hips rock gently into your mouth.  Your eyes water as you keep blowing him.  Then, his hand joins yours.  

“Where ya want it?” he asks somewhat urgently.  What a gentleman. 

You don’t answer, you simply take his hand off his cock and place it on his stomach.  You slow your sucking and relax your tongue.  His hips thrust gently into your mouth and his  hand floats to your head, but you send it back to his stomach again  

“God almighty,” he groans.  “Fuck me.”  It’s a turn-on seeing him so desperate.  

You edge him until you’re ready to see him come. Then, you suck with your whole mouth, your cheeks caving in as you firmly tongue the underside.  Within seconds, his hips lift and stay lifted as he erupts in your mouth with a groan.  His warm load hits the roof of your mouth first, and it’s so many ropes you lose count.  You swallow, then return to the head of the bed. 

-

You put your head on his chest and he strokes your shoulder.  

“You’re the evil one,” he says, and you bask in self-satisfaction for a minute.  “Nah, you’re right.  You don’t wanna believe it, but you’re right.” 

“About what?” 

He sits up and your eyes glue to his inner bicep flexing as he reaches for his phone.  His brow furrows as he reads something then dismisses it.  Then he puts on the song Trouble by Elvis.  He meant you’re right that he’s evil.  

You hold out your arm and say, “I’m cringing so hard I have goosebumps.”  

“Just for that, I’m gonna play DJ allll mornin’,” he says.  He sings along as he walks to the shower, “well I’m evil, so don’t you mess around with me. . .” 

. . .

Before Joel takes you back to your apartment, you have brunch at a restaurant overlooking the riverwalk.  In the absence of other options, you wear your leather pants with the lacy top.  You both get bloody marys. He wears his Ray-Bans and a white t-shirt, jeans as tight as always, and sits back lazily with one elbow over the back of his chair and his knees spread wide.  

Your phone dings with a text from another family friend, Frank, asking if you’re coming home for the Independence Day barbecue, and it gets you thinking.

“Dad’s back this week,” you say to Joel.  You instantly regret it for killing the mood, but it’s the elephant in the room.  “Y’all still gonna barbecue?” 

He takes a sip of his drink, then puts it back down.  He looks at the river and furrows his brow, then his eyes return to you.  “Why wouldn’t we?  You gonna talk to him?”

“I dunno,” you say, not wanting to show your hand, but you’re leaning against snitching any time soon.  

Joel tenses and his nose twitches. “What are you gonna tell’m?”  He rubs one side of his beard.  A waiter approaches from behind, but Joel doesn’t see him.  “Gonna tell’m you climbed into my bed?  Tried to fuck yourself on my cock?"  There’s a bite to his words.  The waiter stops in his tracks and awkwardly tries to pretend he wasn’t coming to your table.  You look at the waiter and shrug and he gulps before nodding at you in acknowledgement.  Joel looks over his shoulder then shakes his head at you and smirks as the waiter walks away. 

Climbed into his bed. . . tried to fuck yourself on his cock. . . It sounds so bad when he puts it that way.  Maybe it was.  Your cheeks burn.

You sigh.  "I wasn't -” 

Joel raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Just the tip," you protest. 

Joel nods thoughtfully. 

“I dunno what I was thinking,” you admit.  You cross your arms and slouch down in your seat. 

"It's never just the tip,"  Joel says. 

"Why didn't you want it?" You ask pathetically 

He sighs.  "Nothin' to do with want.”  He takes a deep breath and leans back.  He looks at the river, exhales, then adds, "Trust me. . .Fuck."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary and looks back at you. 

"What then?”

The way he looks like he’s racking his brain, you wonder if he’s holding back just to drive you crazy.  It certainly has your attention. In fact, you didn’t know how badly you needed to fuck him until last night . . .just minutes after he said he wasn’t going to let you. 

Finally, he says, "It's bad for you, sugar."

“What is? Your evil cock?”

He smirks then shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks at the river again.  “I dunno what to tell ya. I've seen a lot.  Don't wanna put ya through it.  Shoot, look at your stepmom, she's damn near lost her mind.”

“You're just that good,” you roll your eyes.  You have every reason to believe he is. 

Joel sighs.  “Nothin' to do with good. Shit, I’m not good, I'm just grown."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary.  "Don't you know any hot professors? Take 'em for a spin, you'll see."

You brush it off as his crude way of being modest.  He could probably make bank as an actual gigolo from what you’ve seen. 

"Then what is it?" you wonder.  He gives it some thought.  

"Reckon it’s ‘cause ya can't have me.  No one can. I'm un-have-able."  

“Why don’t you ever settle down?” 

“Shoot, I dunno.  When I was your age, I was already a father.  Maybe I went backwards.”

You nod, appreciative of his effort to give a real answer. 

He continues, “But ya know, monogamy just ain’t right for some people.  Hell, even in a marriage.  You’d be surprised how many are open.” 

“How many what? Marriages?” You suspect his sample is skewed. 

“Yeah. Relationships, marriages.”  He crosses his legs.  “Alright, my turn to ask you somethin’.”

Your heart rate spikes, hoping he won’t revisit the just-the-tip incident.  

“Why'd you stand there and watch that night, hmm?" He cocks an eyebrow.  It’s the first time either of you bring up the moment that started all of this.  Sometimes, when you’re with him, you forget about it entirely. 

You laugh at his audacity, then counter with, "Why'd you stand there and finish?"

"Easy. So I could nut.”  He flashes his eyebrows with a casual smirk, then downs the rest of his drink. 

"You did not just say nut.  God, you're such a boomer."

"Alright, let's get outta here ‘fore we traumatize another waiter."  He throws more than enough cash on the table then stands up and pulls up his jeans.  He puts his hands on his hips and cocks a leg out, looking out over the river while you chug the rest of your drink.

-

When you get in the truck, Joel puts his phone on bluetooth and “Call Me,” the theme to American Gigolo, blasts on.  He’s so lame.  You shake your head at him and he has that subtle Dad joke smirk.  His bicep stretches that t-shirt so nicely. 

Halfway to your apartment, some kind of restricted call pops up and his phone automatically answers it.  You swear it’s your father’s voice on the line that says, “You’re offline.  What’s your 20?”  Joel’s face changes entirely, and something tightens in your chest.  

He scrambles to turn off bluetooth and puts the phone to his ear.  You can still somewhat hear the other end of the line.  

Joel glances at you and says, “Uhhh-”

“We’ve gotta move,” your dad says. 

“It’s broad daylight,” Joel counters. 

“The Bureau tracked down his number two and he’s on the move.” 

Joel seems frustrated.  “Why don’t you get Jesse?”

Your dad says, “He’s comin’ but they’re rollin’ deep.  We need our best shot or it’s gonna be a shitshow.”  Your heart is a mile a minute.

“Dad?” you ask meekly, too nervous to fully commit to asking.

“What was that?” your Dad asks. “Who was that?” You don't say anything else. You feel weak.

Joel glances at you regretfully.  “Damnit, gimme ten and I’ll call you.”

“We gotta move, Miller. I need you back online.”

Joel sighs  “Working on it.  I’ve got cargo, k?” 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.  "What kind of cargo?”

Joel looks at you again and answers, "precious.”  He hangs up.

Joel hits the steering wheel angrily.  He speeds back toward your apartment, clenching his jaw as his driving intensifies.   You’re shaking.  That was almost certainly your father, and it didn’t sound anything like a military training exercise, or a construction project of Joel’s, for that matter.  

Joel silently fumes.  

“Was that my dad?” you ask with watery eyes.   He takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out as he exhales.  Before he can answer, you foolishly let him off the hook with another question.  “Did you just call me cargo?"

“Sorry sugar, no time right now.”  You ride in silence, bracing yourself as he careens around a corner. 

The tears in your eyes threaten to overflow, then one does.  

-

Joel pulls up to your apartment.  He waits with one hand still on the steering wheel for you to get out, but when he looks at you, he sees that big fat tear run down your cheek and his face softens. 

“Aw, shoot,” he says, and unbuckles. “I’m an asshole.”  He gets out and jogs over to the passenger side.  He opens the door for you and you slide out of the chair lazily, numbly, not quite wanting to meet his eyes.  

“Hey,” he says, and tilts your chin up.  Suddenly, it seems like he’s in no hurry at all.  He takes off his Ray-Bans and looks at you like he’s trying to heal you with his eyes.  You finally make eye contact and take a shaky breath, trying not to full-on sob.  His thumb brushes away your tears, then the same hand cradles the back of your head.   You stand there reading each other’s eyes.  Slowly, your head begins to pull like a magnet toward his lips.  You almost feel like his hand is ever so subtly pulling you that way.  You steel yourself for rejection anyway.  But then, Joel’s head drifts toward yours.   

His beard lightly prickles your skin as your lips lock and his free arm wraps around you.  You’re caught off guard, but in less than a second, you don’t care about anything else in the world.  Joel’s tongue parts your lips and you accept it hungrily.  His lips are soft but strong as they suck you into him.  Your mouths are needy for each other.  His hand behind your head pulls you further into him.  You kiss like you’re sharing a last breath of air.  Then, he seals the moment on your upper lip and pulls away.  The whole kiss can’t be more than ten seconds, tops. 

“Gotta go, Trouble.” he whispers, then swallows solemnly, looking down.   “I’m sorry.”  

He jumps in his truck and peels off.  

-

next: part 5

-

thank you all so much for reading and engaging. y'all are the best ILY!!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #perdo pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️ #toxicdbf #dbf!joel

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to play DnD with a teenager?

So I (22F) am in college and after classes I like to play DnD with four of my friends, Ricky (21M), Tara (21F) Lola (22F) and Julie (20F)

Well recently Tara's little sister Ashley (15F) has been hanging out at Tara's apartment, where we usually have our game sessions, after school. Like for about two weeks now. Tara says its because her mother got a new job and doesnt get off work until 7pm so Ashley stays at the apartment from 4pm till about 7:30pm when her mother comes to pick her up.

4 pm is when our game sessions start most of the time (depending on if any of us have night classes that day or not) which means we now have a literal child watching us play. And because of that Tara has asked that we tone down the game sessions to be more "appropriate" and we also cant get drunk until Ashley leaves (which is stupid because Julie is under 21 and we can drink around her just fine but whatever) frankly I didnt mind the constant audience since Ashley was far more interested in watching us play than watching TV or playing on Tara's switch.

Well apparently just watching wasnt good enough for the brat because when i got to Tara's apartment for a game, Ashley was sitting at our table, excitedly filling out a character sheet while chattering nonstop with Ricky and Lola (Julie wasn't coming this time she had the stomach flu)

I naturally asked what she was doing because she normally just watched. Ashley gave me a confused look and said that she was joining our game like we had apparently talked about in our groupchat the night prior. Ricky and Lola both backed her up and showed the groupchat.

I had seen the messages but I thought Tara was joking about adding a literal child that doesnt even have a learners permit to our game that we had been continuing for three months now. I naturally went to go confront Tara.

She said that I agreed to let Ashley join in and if I didn't want to play with her I could've just not come.

Is she fucking serious?

What kind of sane person would want to play with a literal child and its edgy as fuck character (like the character was a wolf necromancer dressed in all black with two random scars across its chest. You could smell the hot topic radiating from this cringefest)

Tara refused to listen to reason and instead insisted that Ashley can play just for tonight and if i didnt like it I could leave.

I had no choice to stay and play

It was so fucking miserable.

The brat was constantly making stupid mistakes and dragging the whole party down with her. We constantly had to stop so Ricky (our DM) could explain things that should've been obvious because Ashley was too stupid to actually figure it out. My character was having to bail her's out near constantly. It was getting to the point where I just wanted to legitimately slap Ashley. I didnt because Tara would absolutely murder me but oh the temptation was strong.

And the worst part? I was the only one who seemed to be upset that our game was being completely thrown off course. Ricky, Lola and Tara took all of Ashley's many many fuck ups in stride and actually seemed to be enjoying it.

I have no idea why, that game was a train wreck

After an hour of hell Ricky called it quits for the day.

Which was weird because we usually go well into the night most of the time. Once the game was over Tara grabbed me by the arm and led me to the kitchen.

She asked me what the hell my problem was because it was apparently MY fault the game went so poorly and not the literal child's.

So I let her have it.

I told her it was a stupid idea to let her dumbass sister play with us, that Ashley shouldnt be playing with adults and its stupid to expect us to bow to the whims of a fifteen year old. I told her I never wanted to play with stupid bitch ass of a sister ever again.

I left the apartment after that.

This morning I was removed from the groupchat and all my friends have blocked me

Except for Lola, who has been going off on me in dms all day, calling me a horrible person, transphobic, a bully and a bitch. Every name in the book. None of them are talking to me and Julie, who wasn't even there keeps calling me an asshole and says i should apologize

AITA? I dont think i did anything wrong but everyone else thinks I did

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[thetriumphantpanda]

where have all the good men gone? | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Three

Chapter Summary | A date, supposed to get your mind of Javier, goes terribly, and he's the only person you can think to call that will make anything better.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, alcohol consumption, protective!Javi, misogynistic comments (not from Javi), (1) man being a pushy douchebag (also not Javi), swearing, mentions of the drug trade - nothing else I can think of.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Authors Note | I am truly having the most fun with these two and I hope you're enjoying their story so far! Things are definitely going to be heating up soon, so please hang in there, it'll be spectacular when they finally do get spicy with each other! If you're enjoying this then comments, asks and reblogs are my lifeblood and if you'd like to support me further, please consider a donation to my  Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

“I promise he’s good fun,” Liv’s voice speaks through the phone, cradled to your ear by your shoulder as you skim through your wardrobe, “Nice, and age appropriate.” She teases. 

“Shut up,” You grumble, still annoyed that you’ve allowed her to talk you into this at all, “This is still a terrible idea.” 

“You were the one complaining about Javier Peña being a bad idea,” She defends herself, “And you also could have said no, too late now.” 

You sigh because she’s right. You’ve been trying for the past week to convince yourself that finding someone else might make wanting Javier go away, even just a little bit. Someone your age, not entangled in your family dynamics, or at least you’re hoping anyway. Liv had suggested someone she knew from work, a nice boy, two years older than you, his head screwed on, a managerial position at work. Sensible. 

“I have no idea what to wear.” You groan down the phone, there are plenty of dresses you could choose, but somehow, it feels like this person you don’t know doesn’t deserve that of you. 

“Put those jeans on,” Liv speaks, crunching coming down the phone line, clearly she’s snacking like she always does, “The tight ones, makes your ass look phenomenal, and the lowest cut top you own.” 

“Liv,” You chastise, “I’ve never met him before, I’m not fucking him tonight.” 

“I didn’t suggest you did,” She chuckles, “Just give him a taste of what’s to come.” 

“Unbelievable,” You mutter, but follow her advice anyway, pulling out a shirt that cuts low, scooping out your jeans from the drawer, “Right, I gotta go and get ready, but if this is awful, you’re entirely to blame, okay?” 

“Hearing you loud and clear girl,” She chuckles, “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

“Goodbye!” You chuckle, hanging up. 

It’s still light out, so you opt to walk to the bar in town. It’s not all that far, and the air has cooled enough by the time you leave that it doesn’t feel too stiflingly hot. The bar is not one you would have chosen, one of the more upmarket establishments in town. You wish you could go back to your normal dive bar, with its slightly sticky floor and the smell of fried food. You give him the benefit of the doubt though, maybe he’s just trying to impress you and you can’t fault him for that, can you? 

Liv told you he’d be sat at the bar in a blue shirt, and there’s only one person it can be when you get close enough, “Victor?” You ask, stood next to him. 

“The one and only,” He smiles at you, standing from the barstool to give you a hug, which you allow, “You look hot.” 

“Thanks,” You chuckle, sitting down on the stool next him, noticing a drink already there for you, it’s a cocktail, bright pink, and you know you’ll already hate it, and you do when you take a sip, wincing as the fruity blend moves down your throat, “Oh, it’s very sweet.” 

“I thought it was a safe option, most girls love this drink.” 

You’re tempted to make a comment about this clearly being his favourite place to bring his dates but you bite your tongue, working through the necessary small talk as you try and drink it as fast as you can so you can choose something you might actually enjoy. 

“So, Liv told me you’re a journalist,” He comments, sipping his glass of whiskey, “What kind of things do you write?” 

“I mainly cover news about the drug trade and how that affects the town.” You explain, taking the last sip of your drink, flagging the bartender down. 

“Pretty morbid,” He shrugs, ordering himself another whiskey as you opt for a margarita, “Surely a girl like you should be writing about fashion or something.” 

You scoff, “So I can’t write about things that are important to our town because I’m a woman?” 

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” He tries to backtrack, “Just that it’s intimidating, is all, might put people off,” He chuckles then, “Although not me, like my girls with a bit of personality.” 

You roll your eyes and don’t even try and hide it as you sip at your margarita, much better, you think. It carries on like that for another hour, Victor and his thinly veiled misogyny and his boring, surface level conversation. He tries at some point to put his hand on your knee, but you jerk away, moving so he can’t touch you. 

“You want another?” He asks when you finish your third drink, “The night is still young.”

“No thank you,” You say, trying to be as polite as possible, “I have work tomorrow so probably best to head home.” 

You try and insist that you pay for your part of the bill, but to his only credit, he insists on covering the tab but does then try and wrap his arm around your waist to walk you outside, which makes you want to hit him more than anything. 

You stand next to him on the pavement outside the bar as the doors close behind you. You can still hear everyone else talking inside, but you have no idea what to do. You want to go home, but it’s dark, and you know you’d told your dad that Victor would walk you home, but you don’t want to spend another minute in his company. 

“So, am I gonna get my goodnight kiss?” He asks, trying to take hold of your wrist to pull you into him. 

He’s stronger than you, so he does sort of succeed in pulling you into his body, but you manage to put your palm against his chest to push him back. 

“I don’t think so.” You cringe a little, trying to lean back as far as you can with his hand pulling your wrist. 

“You’re joking right?” He scoffs, “I paid for your drinks, try and be interested in what you said and you’re going to refuse me?” 

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” You speak, trying to talk the situation down, “I just don’t think this is gonna work.” 

“Don’t need to tell me,” He snaps, “Such a fucking tease turning up dressed like this, but you’re really just a prude.” 

“Oh fuck off man!” You try and push him again, succeeding in doing it enough for him to let go of your wrist so you can put some distance between you, “I don’t owe you shit.” 

“Forget it,” He turns around and walks away, leaving you on your own, “Probably would have been a shit lay anyway.” 

You’re tempted to call back but realise it’s not worth it, so you let him wander off, leaving you on the sidewalk on your own with no idea what to do now. You would walk home, but if your dad see’s you on your own, he’s going to kill you for being silly enough to walk home alone after dark, and then find Victor and kill him too for being a jerk. 

You slump against the brick wall of the bar, rooting through your bag, there’s enough cash to go back in and get a drink and try and calm down a little, then, your fingers brush against the card you’d slipped in there a few days ago. The name and the number, and the few coins in the bottom of your bag, draw you to the phone box at the end of the street. You’re putting the money in and dialing before you can convince yourself it’s a silly idea. 

He picks up on the third ring. 

“Peña.” It’s so formal. 

“Javi?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level, but ultimately failing. 

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he asks, and he sounds frantic. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I just-” God this seems so stupid now, mainly because you don’t want to admit you were on a date, you don’t want to make yourself seem unavailable to him, “I was on a date and it didn’t go well, he was meant to walk me home and well, I don’t want him to, but I don’t wanna call my dad.” 

“He hurt you?” He seems cross, protective even, which makes your tummy flutter. 

“N-no,” You sigh, “He got pushy when I wouldn’t kiss him but I’m fine.” 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the phone, can hear the jangle of keys, “Where are you?” 

“I’m at the phone box at the end of Grant Street.” You say, you’re about to speak again when Javi beats you to it. 

“Stay there, go inside a store or something and wait for me, I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” 

“Okay,” You nod, like he can see you, “Javi?” 

“Yeah, querida?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare,” He scoffs, “Never apologise for needing my help, okay?” You can hear the sound of his truck engine in the background, “I gotta hang up to drive, but I’ll be there soon, promise.” 

“Okay,” You sniff, “Thank you.” 

You can hear the dial tone before he can reply, so you hang the receiver back up and head into the liquor store on the other side of the road. You smile at the clerk, who asks if you need anything, you shake your head, tell him you’re just waiting for someone and then spend the rest of the time looking out of the window. 

He’s parking up in a worryingly short amount of time, and as you walk from the store you worry that he put himself in danger driving so fast to get you. He’s opening his door and climbing down from the truck. As soon as you’re close enough, he’s got his hands on your shoulders, searching your face to make sure you’re alright. 

“I’m fine Javi, I promise,” You insist, holding gently to his arms, giving him a smile, “I’ve probably overreacted.” 

He lets his arm drops and signals for you to get into the truck, following swiftly, “If he made you uncomfortable it’s not an overreaction,” He speaks, turning the truck back on and pulling away, “He still around?” 

You shake your head, “I don’t think so.” 

“Good.” 

It makes you wonder if he means good because he won’t bother you anymore, or good because it means he won’t be tempted to do something about his blatant disrespect. You decide not to probe that one, but file it away for later. You’re driving down the street when your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you’ve not eaten since lunch. 

“You hungry?” 

“I could eat,” You mumble sheepishly, “I’m sure there’s something at home.” 

Javi nods, but drives straight past the turning he would need to take you home, driving straight on instead and turning off a little later. You’re about to ask where he’s taking you when he pulls into the parking lot at McDonalds. He parks up and tells you to stay where you are. 

You watch him as he walks away, perfectly broad back, shirt tucked into his jeans. He really is a vision in every way when you look at him. He’s striding back out a little while later, brown paper bag in one hand and a soda cup in the other. He passes them both to you as he climbs back into his seat. 

“What’s this?” You ask, taking a sip of the cold soda. 

“Cheeseburger, extra pickles and a Sprite with extra ice.” 

Yet again, he’s managed to amaze you with his observation skills. There was a time where he’d taken a trip with you and your parents, just a day out of town somewhere, and you’d stopped to get food on the way home, you’d made this exact order, turned to him and told him it was your favourite, and somehow he’d filed that away for right now, when you needed it the most. 

“Thank you.” You speak simply, reaching in for the burger, unwrapping it carefully before taking a bite. 

Javi can’t help but watch out of the side of his eye as you eat. God, you looked beautiful. Jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto your skin, showing off all those perfect parts of you. A shirt that was enticing without being too much. Fuck, he wanted to reach over, use his thumb to wipe away the tiny bit of sauce that had gathered in the corner of your mouth, push it into your mouth and let you lick it off his thumb. 

You ball up the wrapper your burger had come in once you’ve finished, dropping it into the paper bag, picking up the cup of soda to suck the Sprite through the straw, “You alright now?” He asks. 

You look at him, small, sad smile on your lips, “Just can’t help feeling there’s something wrong with me.” You shrug, offering him a sip of your drink which he declines. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, wanting to reach over to you, put a comforting hand on you, but deciding against it for now. 

You shrug a little, leaning your head back against the seat, “No-one ever looks at me in that way, I suppose,” You answer honestly, and he wants to tell you it isn’t true, that he thinks of you exactly like that, no matter how much he shouldn’t, “I’ve been with one guy in my whole life and I don’t think he ever really liked me, was only with me because I was the only one left out of my friends.” 

“Did he say that?” 

“He didn’t have to,” You shrug again, “He never really made an effort, never took me out, never really wanted to sleep with me much either, I guess I was just easy for him,” You say, “Convenient.” Is what you finish on. 

“It isn’t you,” Javi speaks, turning his head to look at you, resting it against his seat in much the same way you are, “First of all, college boys are always idiots, don’t let that be your base line,” You snort and turn your head to look at him now, “What did tonight’s idiot do?” 

You shake your head at him, “He was just a misogynistic asshole,” You add a shrug, “Apparently because I’m a woman I should write about fashion and not anything that actually matters.” 

Javi scoffs, because in his experience, women make the best journalists, quiet, unassuming but they always knew how to pull strings and get what they wanted and he doesn’t doubt you’re the same, “Take it as a compliment,” He offers, “Sometimes it’s best to intimidate boys, and the ones that you don’t?” He asks as a rhetorical question, “Those will be the men worth your time.”

You chuckle a bit, rolling your head on the headrest behind you to look back out of the front of the car, “You’re just saying this to make me feel better.” 

Javi reaches over, takes hold of your hand and gives it a slight squeeze before he’s letting it drop again, almost like he’s been burnt, like he knows he shouldn’t have done it, “I am saying it to make you feel better, that’s the whole point, but it’s true,” He shrugs a little in his seat, “Don’t feel like you’ve got to rush into that side of life either, you’re still young, there’s plenty of time for you.” 

You hum in agreement because you know he’s right, it’s what everyone always says to you in these circumstances, but somehow, coming from him, it means more. He’s older than you and although you’ve no doubt that he’s known plenty of women in his time, he’s in just the same predicament as you are. 

“Will you take me home?” You ask softly, “I’m tired.” 

He nods, starting up his car, pulling out of the parking lot and finally driving you back home. 

He pulls his truck up just down the street from your house, far enough away that your dad won’t be able to see, but close enough that he knows he’ll be able to sit and wait to watch you get in safely. He cuts the engine and turns to you, giving you a soft smile, trying to tell you that it’ll all be okay. 

“Thanks,” You speak softly, “For all this, made a shitty night not so bad in the end.” 

“Always,” He smiles back, “I mean it when I say you don’t ever need to worry about calling me.” 

“I know,” You smile, and he feels his heart swell at the sight, “Well, goodnight Javi.” 

He doesn’t really register what’s happening until it’s too late. You drag your body across the truck instead of moving to the door to open it and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. It would be innocent enough if it wasn’t for the fact your lips press into the skin just far enough away from his mouth so as not to cross a line, but not right in the middle of his cheek either. It’s the softest way he’s been touched in a long time, and he can feel himself wanting to grip onto you, smash his mouth to your own and finally scratch the itch that’s sitting under his skin. 

You pull away, but before you can open the door, he’s taking hold of your wrist and moving closer, pressing his own kiss to your cheek right back, further up your skin than you had done to him, but it’s a kiss to your skin none-the-less, one that floods his chest with hope, a feeling he hasn’t really felt in years. He keeps his mouth there probably for a little longer than he should, committing the feel of your skin on his mouth because he knows this is as far as he should push things, but he also knows that he now needs to know what the rest of your skin feels like under his mouth. 

He pulls away and when he looks at your eyes, all full of hope and want, the same look he’d seen countless times in Colombia, whether he was promising a visa or led next to someone in bed, and he knows he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged these kinds of feelings, but he’s done it now, he can’t take it back, wouldn’t want to if he could either. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, querida,” He says softly, “Nothing wrong with you at all.” 

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña smut #Javier Peña fluff #Javier Peña angst #Javier Peña fic #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #Narcos #Narcos fic #Narcos fanfic #Narcos Fanfiction #Narcos smut #javi pena #jaiver pena #Javier Pena smut #javier pena fluff #javier pena angst #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena narcos #Javier Peña narcos

[dezznuggz]

The Parents of the Friend group. |Part 1

Steve Harrington × reader

~the party already knows about yours and Steve's relationship and even before you and Steve got together, they made it pretty clear that Steve is the mom and you're the dad. Plain and simple

Warning: playfully bullying Steve, mentions of season 2, mentions of the upside down, reader pronouns she/her, y/n used a couple times

--------------------------------∆----------------------------

With everything that the party member went through at a young age, you and Steve always cared and protected them with any chance y'all get. With that being said, Steve made it a monthly thing to have the kids (including Robin and Eddie) sleepover for at least a night just so they can enjoy themselves young and to also ease Steve's paranoia of not knowing when another type of monster will appear out of the blue. You didn't have a problem with the idea of course mostly since you loved the kids as if they were your own kids but it gets tiring after a while, mostly when it's in your own home.

Tossing and turning in bed while hearing loud chatters in the distance. Moving around to grab a hold of Steve and hopefully cuddle back to sleep but you feel the other side of the bed empty.

Is it the 24th already?

Groggily getting out of bed still half asleep and walking to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready for one hell of a day. After wearing something more appropriate and becoming wide awake, you mentally prepare yourself to walk out into the chaos. When you open the door, everything suddenly becomes clearer and louder. You see Erica and Dustin arguing about what channel to put on. Max and Robin are practically attacking Lucas for his poor taste in comics. Eddie, Mike, and Will try explaining d&d to El (who clearly is not interested). Then you see the main person that you wanted to spend your morning with, but they were clearly occupied and busy. Already heading to the kitchen to your lover to say good morning while giving a peck on the lips.

"Every month...every month, I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore" you say while looking at the hoard of people in the living room talking over each other. "I swear they're little geniuses but when it comes to being on time, they're rather late or too early and today is one of those days." Steve says while mixing a bowl of pancakes batter. "Remember you wanted this, so you can't fully blame them." You say while warming up a cup of coffee, "oh no no no, you can't partially blame me for this, don't act as if you didnt want them around either" Steve says while looking from the pancake batter then to you with a small smile. Okay maybe you also found comfort in having the kids around including Robin and Eddie, it feels more home warming but it's the mess they leave after. "Well...I'm not sure what I can say to that other than calling dibs to drop off the kids" you say frantically before leaving the kitchen and into the living room while hearing Steve trying to call you back in the kitchen.

Once you step in the living room, you weren't sure if you wanted to go back and continue the conversation that you just had with Steve or try to at least have the kids calm down and lower their voices. "Jesus I don't know how you deal with this nerd, all he does is shove facts down your throat!" Erica practically yells at you before walking away from Dustin who is hot on her tail. "Oh IM THE NERD, you practically have the whole pony lore merged in your girly little brain" Dustin yells back at Erica while also passing by you and saying a quiet good morning (which you say good morning back).

"okay well let's leave that to Steve.." you say under your breath before walking to the little closet room in yours and Steve's house to pull out blankets and more pillows already preparing for tonight and maybe for a game that will last till night out. "Hey!" Will said pretty loudly in your ear which had you flinching a little, "Oh my God, what happened, I thought you were with Eddie and Mike? Did you forget your toothbrush again? Or was it your underwear again? You know Steve doesn't really mind besides he barley knows." You ramble and ask multiple questions to Will and whispering the last part knowing that it happened once and he trusted in only telling you. "WHAT no I'm fine, everything's fine, I just wanted to help out a little you know since it's the least we can do" Will says in a soft tone. "Oh no it's okay honey... Well you know what, maybe a little help wouldn't hurt right?" You say hesitantly, knowing how Steve gets when the kids actually help around. He tends to take control but not in a mean way more of a 'just rest my child and I'll take care of you' typa way. "Okay I need you to carry this... And this, and hold this one for me please....oh can't forget Max's..." You say while stacking pillows and blankets in Will's arms which slowly starts piling up to the point that his face is no longer able to be seen.

"is that it?..." Will asks while trying to peep his head out a little just to see if there are any more blankets, "umm....no you know what that's about it, good job buddy" you say before patting Will's shoulder indicating that he should follow you. Both you and Will walk to the living room to find everyone gone then you hear a faint voice counting. "Okay that's 2,4,6,8....8?" Steve says after counting heads to make sure everyone was sat at the table ready to eat although with so much noise and talking going around he can't seem to know if he counted wrong. But just as Steve suspected, he did count wrong as 2 more people walked into the dining room. "Ah there you guys are, okay so that's 10 in total" Steve says with a relief but his cheery tone went away as he saw Will's bottom half since the other half was covered with piles of blankets and pillows. "Babe we talked about this, if you need help call me, now look what you have done to the boy, I can't even see him" Steve says dramatically. You let out a sigh as you take the pillows and blankets from Will and told him to sit down and eat, "it's fine babe he offered and I took it, it's not gonna hurt him. And besides you seemed a little busy so I didn't want to disturb you." You say trying to calm a dramatic Steve down since you always are the one to just take things with a flow while Steve is the one to control the flow.

"I'm not gonna tell you again, if you ever need help just call me over and I'll be there, okay?" Steve says while looking down at you waiting for a response, "sure." You say just to please Steve, "good, now sit down and eat before it gets cold" Steve says with a more cheery tone as he presses a kiss on your lips.

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"UNOOO!!" Eddie exclaims very loudly which caused the kids to groan since they know that Eddie's cheating but they just can't prove it. Everyone was currently sitting on the floor around the little coffee table in the middle of the living room. Everyone decided to play uno after a long argument on how we should play it due to Dustin being competitive and wanting a specific way to play like whether or not we can jump in or pair up with someone. Everyone told him that we're just gonna play uno for the fun of it with no arguments and no competition, which never happened. Steve and you ended up teaming up and showing each other y'all's cards, Erica started becoming aggressive towards Lucas who kept +4 her. "Is there a problem between you and me cause last time I checked, we're blood related and BLOOD RELATED PEOPLE DONT BETRAY EACHOTHER!" Erica screams in Lucas's face while Lucas laughs at her overreacting. "Woah okay Erica calm down, here take my +4 and you'll get him next time when we reverse." Steve says to Erica while passing the card across the table to Erica who simply denied it and said that she didn't want his pity. "Let her fuss it out babe, she'll get over it" you say while laughing a little since you were Erica's babysitter at some point of time, so you knew how long Erica's little tantrums would last.

As the game ended with Robin somehow winning and multiple arguments breaking out. We all went out separate ways as it was almost time for dinner. You and Steve both walk into the kitchen just to finally enjoy y'all's personal time (even though y'all live together). With you deciding that you don't wanna cook, and Steve not knowing what to cook, you both agreed to order Chinese food. It was cheap and the most agreeable among the party members. Pizza was always complicated for the party, Lucas liked olives while Robin was allergic, and El liked pineapple on hers which Eddie completely despised to be in sight of pineapple pizza. Everyone had their own pizza preference that was just too much to order all together but Chinese food is what got everyone to enjoy (although you weren't a fan of Chinese food but you'll eat it for the kids).

Steve finished the order for Chinese food that we will soon have to pick up but in the mean time it was just you and Steve. Steve and you. Both embracing and enjoying each other's company even when yall aren't doing anything but it just felt so comfortable and loving. You sat on the counter with your feet dangling and Steve between your thighs while looking up at you and admiring you as if you were an angel. "You ever think about having kids" Steve asks with a foolish grin across his face, "woah, a very unexpected question at the moment" you say giggling but slowly stopped when you saw Steve still waiting for an answer, "I don't know, maybe,...actually yeah but as long as it's your kids" you say also with a foolish grin which made Steve blush "you know I actually want 6 kids, I don't remember telling you that" Steve says looking deep in your eyes, "oh trust me I remember you specifically telling me how many and what their names would be" you exclaim while rolling your eyes playfully since you have indeed heard multiple times and it's not like your complaining, infact you loved the idea of Steve also seeing his future with you and you guys are only 20 years old. "Let's get married" Steve says with a straight face and you let out a laugh but stop and clear your throat when Steve still looks at you with a straight face, "you're serious? Okay umm listen Steve I love you, I really do and I don't even want to imagine a life without you but we're 20 and we both work at a minimum wage job that barley pays for rent." You say rambling a little, "but trust me when I tell you this, I wanna get married with you so bad and specifically only you but just not right now or at least where we're at right now" you try to say with a little bit of a cheery voice so you don't totally break Steve's heart, "I promise" you say while holding out your pinky Infront of Steve's pouty face, "okay but is it okay if we have kids before we get married?" Steve asks before he even locks both of y'all's pinkies together "whatever makes you happy babe" you tell Steve with a toothy grin knowing that it would cheer Steve up, he then locks both of y'all's pinkies together and gives you a very passionate kiss that caused you to let out a little giggle in the middle of it.

"oh dude, I thought Robin said no public pda" Mike exclaims with a face of disgust before walking and purposely bumping into Steve's back to get a cold water bottle from the fridge. "Dude we're trying our best to keep it private", Steve says in a very judging tone, "you know Mike, me and Steve have seen you and El kiss but you don't see us making a big scene, have you tried growing up a little?" You say to Mike cause this isn't the first time that you and Mike have had this conversation about pda. "if it requires me growing up and becoming anything like y'all, I'd rather stay young and immature" Mike says before walking off but not before steve tells him to watch his tone. "I'm pretty sure he just called us old in so many different ways" you say to Steve, "he just doesn't get it cause he doesn't know what REAL love is, all he knows is young love....and I'm not old, trust I'm never gonna look old either" Steve says before fixing his hair with a pouty face which you laugh at cause you know how dramatic Steve gets when it comes to his age and specifically his looks.

"oh stop whining, we all know that you're gonna get grey hairs by soon mostly with all the stress the kids keep giving you" Robin suddenly comes in the kitchen startling you both just a little. "Okay first of all shut up and don't jinx it, and second who was talking to you?" Steve says in a very sassy tone since his hair is "his best feature" so God forbid anything happens to it. You let out a breathy laugh as Robin kept adding more gas into the fire. "Oh what's so funny huh, you do know you're gonna end up with grey hairs too so we'll both look 50 in our 30s" Steve says which causes you to stop laughing and before you can say anything Robin practically speaks for you, "uh no she won't, cause the kids are scared of her so they always act right around her but with you Steve, oh boy do they give you hell. In fact I'm pretty sure they only listen to y/n" Robin says with a small smirk on her lips. "Oh that's so not true!" Steve says raising his voice a little to state that he completely disagrees with Robin, "yea it is, remember at Byers house during fall, when you know the whole incident happened." You say trying to get Steve to recall what exactly happened that night, "yea what about it?" Steve says still not remembering how that night has anything to do with what they were walking about.

--------------------------------∆----------------------------

Fall night 1984:

You and Steve were trusted to take care of the kids. It wasn't anything new to you when it came to having full responsibility of the kids. It practically came as a free side job for you since you protected the kids without any questions asked or needed. For Steve on the other hand, his first time taking care of 5 kids at once and he felt like there was so much responsibility in his hands. He just felt the need to take full control due to the fear of not being able to know what the kids are doing 24/7 at the moment.

With Mike and Lucas arguing about Mike panicking and Dustin having Steve shove a demo-dog in ms.byers fridge it all felt hectic to you but nothing that you couldn't handle. The only calm one that was there was max due to it being her first rodeo and completely confused about the whole situation. Suddenly all the kids start making up a plan on how to help El and everyone else that's heading towards the lab that's filled with deadly creatures. While hearing this plan Steve completely shuts it down. "Yea and then we all die" Steve says making it clear that he totally disapproves of their idea, "well that's one point of view" you say in a sarcastic way, "no y/n that's not one point of view, that's a fact" Steve says with an attitude mostly since you're the other adult that's supposed to help him out but isn't even backing him up. You then raise your hands in surrender and give Steve a mocking face before going back to sweeping up glass with max. Mike then walks off with everyone following right behind him, you and Max decide to forget about the glass pieces since there're definitely way more important things to focus on.

With Mike making a master plan of setting up the underground base on fire and having Dustin,max, and Lucas add onto the idea Steve finally attempts to put his foot down. "We're staying here, ON THE BENCH, and we're waiting for the starting team to do their job, does everybody understand that" Steve says in a demanding tone, "THIS ISN'T A STUPID SPORTS GAME?!" Mike complains to Steve but Steve still stood his ground "I said does everybody understand that, I need a yes.." Steve says pointing his fingers at the kids waiting for a response. "We don't need to listen to you" Mike says still annoyed at Steve, "okay you know what, that's enough...y/n control your kids" steve finally starts talking to you but all you did was respond with crossing your arms and shrugging your shoulders as a sign that there's really not much to say. "Oh seriously you're in on this too!?" Steve exclaims in a flabbergasted tone, "I don't know what to say Steve, it sounds like a really good plan". "Yea a good plan to get us killed". "We're not gonna die okay they know what they're doing!". "Yes imma let a bunch of kids guide me into saving the world, yea sure why not jump off a cliff while I'm at it!",

you and Steve bicker back and forth till you finally give in just to calm Steve down and to get him to shut up, "alright kids you heard him, this plan just might get us killed, steve and only steve thinks its best for us to stay put here" you say in a very rude tone to show that you also dont approved of steves idea, "but-" lucas wanted to say something but went completely quiet when you gave him a look to not talk back "we understand". "fine". "Sure". "Whatever" was the only response you got from the kids as they all got up from the floor but completely halted in their steps when they heard a very loud engine outside...

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

"okay that doesn't even count, they kids were getting used to me at that time so they just don't understand how scary I can get, they listen to me. I know they do it's just y'all aren't around or y'all don't remember" Steve says still trying to defend himself which causes you and Robin to laugh at Steve's attempt. "You're right that's one of the many times that the kids listened to y/n but if you want I can go on and on and on" Robin says trying to rile Steve up and laughing through her sentence, "okay you know what I think it's time for us to pick up the food" Steve says before walking into the living room filled with many people that just seem to be in their own world, "alright who wants to come with me and get the food?.." steve says loud enough for then to hear but there still was no response given to him, you weren't even sure if they heard him. "HEY! Who wants to go with Steve and pick up the food!?" You say loudly which caused everyone's attention on you and still no response but instead everyone is looking at each other to see who's willing to volunteer and go with Steve, "no one? Okay... Dustin go with Steve" you say short and simple which caused Dustin to let out a dramatic groan, "why do I gotta go, make Mike go or max go" Dustin whines to you, "no complaints now get up and get the food. NOW!?" you reply to Dustin's complaints and say the last part loudly since you didn't see him move until you raised your voice.

You then walked up to Steve giving him a pat on the shoulder and a kiss on the cheek before walking to the bathroom. Everyone goes back to their own world again and Steve still is a little mad at the fact that the kids do only listen to you and never Steve.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

Everyone's back at the dining table and there is not a single moment that's silent. Everything is everywhere. Things being passed around in front of everyone, people calling other people's attention from across the table and loud laughter filling the air. It didn't bother you at all, okay maybe a little but you also don't know how else you would prefer the kids to be.

You suddenly snap out of your little thoughts when max mentions your name. "Y/n literally wears the pants of the relationship" max tells Steve, who is still flabbergasted at the fact that the kids listen to only you, "no she doesn't, I think that me and her both are equal in our relationship, right babe" Steve then turns to you asking for your input and opinion, "max we're equal there's no one that wears the pants okay...but I do have to take the lead sometimes" you say the last part quietly but not quite enough for Steve to not hear. "Okay first of all you don't take the lead ALL the time and I wouldn't even put it as you taking the lead, more like you knowing what's better" Steve says defending himself, "oh so she does take the lead I knew it" Eddie then chimes in the conversation out of nowhere, "no she doesn't are you guys even listening to what I'm saying?!" Steve says in a frantic way since he feels as if he's being attacked.

"Wait you're telling me that throughout all the shit we've been through, y/n has always been the decision maker?!" Eddie says in a shocked tone from connecting dots in his mind, "what no of course I make decisions too, you guys act as if I don't do anything!?" Steve raises his voice slightly which causes max and Eddie to laugh out loudly which also causes everyone else's conversation to cut off and wanting to know what's so funny. "We didn't say you don't do anything, we're just saying that you mostly listen to y/n. It honestly seems as if she wears the pants in the relationship" Eddie says while still laughing, this causes others who have been listening to laugh too. "I think we all made it clear that y/n wears the pants, I mean like look at them" max says while gesturing her hands toward me and Steve which causes us to look at each other up and down.

"It's like Steve is the mom and y/n is the dad can we all make that clear" Robin says and everyone else agrees with a small response. "Wait what?" You say a little confused on how the subject can change fast but not the topic which was y'all two, you and Steve being the target and center of the conversation. "Yea I mean you guys are like an old married couple that love each other, I think that's pretty obvious right?" Lucas says that also has everyone else agreeing with him. "Steve is so strict and paranoid like a mom and y/n is so chill and a floater like a dad." Mike adds to Lucas's statement that causes Erica to butt in, "Steve yells at me for not taking my shoes off when I walk in, y/n doesn't even bat an eye about it" Erica's comment left Steve flabbergasted. This had Steve more aware of how motherly he's been acting through the past years. "So I'm the lame, no fun boring mom while y/n is the cool fun dad?!?" Steve asks as if clarification to make sure that what they're saying to him is correct. "Pretty much". "Yea honestly". "if the show fits". "Yea" was the response Steve gets from the kids, "that's so not true I can be fun. Matter in fact I'm totally fun it's just not with y'all. I'm so fun that you guys wouldn't be able to handle me." Steve rants about how fun he is just to prove that he's not a boring mom but that doesn't seem to get to the kids, "that's exactly what a mom would say" Dustin then says to stop Steve from going on and on about "how fun he is", and this time it left Steve silent, infact it left the whole table silent waiting to see what else Steve has left to say but clearly he had nothing.

The silence caused you to let out a little snort of laughter which caused everyone to look at you. Seeing Steve get terrorized by a bunch of kids was too funny to hold in that Steve himself laughed. With you and Steve laughing this caused everyone else to laugh along. Everyone then went back to their regular conversation as if nothing happened.

You then looked at Steve with a cocky grin, "I'm their favorite parent" you say while smirking at him, "don't start" Steve says while rolling his eyes playfully and chuckling.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

With everything that has happened in the last 15 hours, the party members calmly agreed to end the day off with a movie. Robin, max, Erica, and El had the couch while everyone else had the floor. The girls wanted you to be on the couch with them but you wanted to end the day with you being in Steve's arms. "Okay everyone brushed their teeth?" Steve asks before he gets himself comfortable and sitting on the floor next to you, "yes MOM" Will says in a joking way which caused Steve to let out a huff then laugh a little. "Come on guys leave him alone, lord knows how many grey hairs you're going to give him by 30" you say in a teasing tone that caused everyone to laugh. "Oooo you're lucky I love you" Steve says after turning off all the light and putting the movie on and laying next to you.

The movie goes on for a while until everyone is out cold. All the junk they ate today completely drained them out. "You know I don't mind being the mom anymore" Steve says all of a sudden, "really? Why's that?" You say a little curious about the sudden change of opinion, "it lets me know that the kids know that I care for them even if it means I'm not fun." Steve says in a low voice trying not to wake everyone up, "I think they already know that you care for them. They just say that to get a rise out of you", you say letting out a breathy laugh that you covered with your mouth. "At least they aren't scared of me" Steve says trying to make himself feel better, "well at least they think I'm fun" you reply back in an instant to Steve's remark. "At least we're viewed as their parents" Steve says looking into your eyes with a boyish grin. "You know what, you're right, at least they look up to us" you reply back to Steve before leaning in to kiss him which Steve kissed back in an instant.

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!?!" Mike exclaims in a loud tone since he just caught you and Steve making out AGAIN.

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Pls don't be a silent reader and I hope u enjoyed

#steve harrington x reader #joe keery x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #robin buckley #mike wheeler #will byers #dustin henderson #eleven hopper #eddie munson #mom and dad #cute couple

[thisisanewlowes]

What If I’m Not Enough? (How I Spend My Nights) | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Summary: You and Jake had been together for a few months. The only problem? He’s your captain. So, what happens when you have to pretend like you don’t care that another woman is hitting on him?

Warnings: Age gap (~20 years - reader is in her early twenties and Jake is in his early forties), jealousy, insecurity, Jake being soft for one person and one person only, power imbalance, allusions to smut

Word Count: 936 words

A/N: Ahhh!! My first story post for everyone’s favorite blond pilot. I hope you all enjoy this little one-shot. Let me know what you think and if you’d want to read more about Captain Seresin and his ensign!! FYI, while this isn't a part of the A-List Universe, I'm totally up for making these two their own series. (P2 coming soon!!)

The crowd in the Hard Deck seemed extra wild that night to Ensign Y/N Y/L/N. As you maneuver through the uniformed sailors and all the women who came to flirt and drink, you make sure to keep an eye out for your boyfriend.

You and Captain Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had only been dating for a few months. While everything seemed great to you both, there was one problem: your relationship had to be kept a secret. If any of your higher-ups found out that you were together, well, losing your jobs would be the least of your worries. So, that meant you and Jake had to pretend like you weren’t insanely in love… or insanely jealous.

“Y/N!” You heard your childhood best friend and backseater Ensign Mickey Garcia call from the other side of the bar. “Over here!” You and Mickey had grown up in the same bad part of town together. You went to the academy together. You flew together. And, one day, you’d get your callsigns together too.

By the time you make it to where your friend stood, his wife was already pulling him in for a deep kiss. “Jesus!” You exclaim with a smile, “Seriously, guys, if you’re going to do that, do it at home.”

“You’re just jealous because I’M in a relationship and YOU’RE not,” Mickey sneered.

“Yeah,” you let out a forced laugh, “you’re right.” With that, you look around the bar once more to catch just a glimpse of your blond.

It hadn’t been easy for you two. You had to drive at least an hour away anytime you went on dates and you had to sneak off base every night since you two officially/unofficially moved in together. And the age gap didn’t help. Well, it helped in some ways, you thought, but not with the looks you got from strangers as you passed by. And it also didn’t help when women more age-appropriate flirted with your boyfriend.

So here you stand, finally locating Jake, only to see him looking at another woman. Jealously flashed hot inside of you. You knew that there was no reason to be upset. You were sure that he was just being polite. But, if your boyfriend was anything, polite was not that thing. For just a moment you thought about going over there and pulling his neck down so you could lock his lips with yours. But then that moment passed, and you were left staring at the one man you weren’t supposed to have any reason to care about.

By the time Jake saw you, it was too late; you were storming out of the loud bar and into the quiet chill of the winter air. Trying not to let your emotions get the best of you, you made your way down the sand and sat facing the ocean, your knees pulled to your chest. It only took a few moments of waiting for your boyfriend to appear beside you. As he sat down on the sand, he placed a large hand on your lower back and rubbed soft circles there. 

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Jake asked with a furrowed brow and a voice rich with concern.

“Nothing,” you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the wadded-up sleeve of your favorite sweater, the one that Jake had gotten you for your birthday soon after you started dating. “Nothing, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. You should just go back inside.”

“And leave you out here all alone? Now why would I do that?” Jake drawled with that southern accent that made you melt. 

“I don’t know. I figured that you’d want to keep talking to that woman in there.” You looked up at him with glossy wide eyes and a protruding lower lip.

“Oh, baby,” the man said, pulling you close to him in the safety of the darkness. “Trust me, the only thing I had to say to her was that I wasn’t interested. That I had already found the girl I wanted to spend my night with.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, letting out a sad chuckle. “Yeah,” Jake said softly before he lightly placed his fingers beneath your chin and lifted your face to look at him. “I’ve already found the girl that I want to spend the rest of my nights with.”

You let out a small gasp as Jake moved closer to you to gently press his lips to yours. You softened almost instantly under his touch and as he lifted his hand up to brush away the rest of your falling tears with the rough pad of his thumb, you realized that everything would be okay. Because you knew that your captain didn’t say things he didn’t believe. Because you knew when he said forever that he meant it.

“Hey, baby?” Jake asked, pulling away from your face just far enough for him to be able to talk. 

“Yeah?”

“How about we go home and I can show you just how much I want to spend my night with you?” With a laugh and a playful groan, you pushed yourself off of the pilot and started walking away. 

“Where are you going?” He yelled after you.

“The parking lot, dummy! Are you coming or what?” You yelled back, a smile evident in the way your voice rang out.

With a grin, Jake started jogging after you, careful not to draw any attention, but close enough that any passing man would know that the girl in front of him was off the market. That you were Jake Seresin’s girl and no one else’s.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Tag List:

@environmental-gbcd @seresinsbrat @miselaneas @fantoz  @sailor-aviator @teacupsandtopgun @goldenseresinretriever@seresinsweetie @thedroneranger @attapullman @floydsglasses @mrsrobertfloyd @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @paigewinchester67@roosterforme @tgmrooster @topguncortez @seresinhangmanjake @callsigncurse @callsigncowboy @callsign-daydream@teacupsandtopgun @acewritesfics @missathlete31 @themissingmango @blue-aconite @whatislovevavy @sunlightmurdock @bradshawbaby @averyhotchner

#top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman #hangman top gun #top gun 2022 #hangman smut #hangman x reader #hangman fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #i literally love him your honor #i would also risk my career for this man

[bloodynereid]

Tinsel, Gold and Dragons

(modern au!)

pairings: rhaenyra targaryen x fem! reader, past rhaenyra x alicent

tw: kissing, alicent bashing, alcohol consumption, talk about hooking up, hatred of the holiday season??

description: You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

a/n: hiii hope you enjoy this little fic i randomly wrote last night. i've been kind of missing just writing stuff that isn't requests so hopefully this is still ok haha. ALSO i'm 100% an alicent defender, she's the loml so just remember that a lot of this is from rhaenyra's pov and not my own thoughts about her character. anyways hope you enjoy this and happy holidays <3 (might write a part 2 at some point but who knows?)

Rhaenyra Targaryen never liked the holiday season. After her mother died things just got worse and the boring parties she was always subjected to only got more boring. The welcome reprieve of baking gingerbread in the kitchen with her mom was gone in seconds and now holidays just reminded her of everything she had lost.

This year’s party was going to be the worst one by a long shot. Rhaenyra had to deal with Alicent fucking Hightower - oh sorry Targaryen now… that was something she still hadn’t accepted. I mean how do you even cope when your best friend suddenly starts fucking your dad in secret, gets pregnant, marries him and then proceeds to act like she’s Virgin fucking Mary?

The answer is with a lot of scotch, stupid hookups and long hours studying. She was desperate to get her law degree so she could finally do something and it also meant she could start working at her uncle’s law firm.

Currently though she was stuck in her father’s house whilst her new toddler half-brother threw temper tantrums and broke anything in his vicinity.

It was Christmas Eve and Viserys had nearly decided to cancel the annual Christmas party, in favor of “family bonding” but Alicent had somehow convinced him to keep it on. Rhaenyra did not want to think about what she had done to convince him. She nearly gagged at the mere idea of it.

Smoothing out the material of the dark red dress with a slightly higher slit than what would be considered appropriate, Rhaenyra let out an audible sound of satisfaction. She looked fucking hot. Plus Alicent would freak when she saw it, perfect.

Once upon a time Alicent Hightower had been her best friend, and probably something more but now… all that Rhaenyra could muster up for her is a cold chill of utter hate and rage.

Rhaenyra was thrown out of her thoughts when her phone called out the familiar ringtone that belonged to her uncle.

“Daemon… you do know that people can text now don’t you?”

“Haha, you can call me old all you want but you might regret it when I don’t tell you how I’m about to save you tonight.”

“Please tell me you found a way to make them all die fiery deaths.”

“Nothing as dramatic as that but I assure you it’s still the perfect escape.”

“Are you going to leave me in suspense while I endure this torture or…”

“Fine, you spoiled princess. We’re having a little party at the firm and since you’re coming to work here soon…”

“You didn’t.”

“But I did.”

“Fuck off. You mean I can actually leave this party.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“You’re my savior.”

“Knight in shining armor and all that. Just remember to get me a good present this year.”

“When do I ever disappoint you?”

“There is also another surprise waiting for you when you get here.”

“Daemon… what have you done?”

“Nothing. There’s just someone I think you should meet.”

“Oh God, maybe I won’t go.”

“You know you’re too desperate not to, plus she’s your age so you won’t have to deal with boring old men like me.”

“She’s a she?” 

Rhaenyra perked up, she hadn’t had a date in a while and ever since Alicent she hadn’t even tried to step her foot back into that pool. A string of meaningless hookups with men had done nothing to quell the heartbreak side of the whole situation. This would probably be good for her. 

“Yes. So I guess that means you’re coming?”

“Obviously.”

“Should I send a car over?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll just drive Syrax.” Syrax was a birthday present from Daemon, a beautiful and subtly gold car that drove like a dream.

“Ok, see you soon Nyra.”

“Bye, Uncle.”

Rhaenyra sped through the streets of King’s Landing in the comfortable leather seat of her car. The bright Christmas lights that adorned the shops made a bright smile appear on her face. She may hate the holidays but at least the lights and food were incredible.

She arrived at the tall building that held Caraxes, Daemon’s law firm and named after his first dog but no one needed to know that. She gave her name to the security guard before parking the car in one of the empty spaces.

Her red dress fluttered in the cold breeze as she waited for the elevator to open. The firm was located on the 60th floor, the penthouse. Rhaenyra always loved being up high so the height was never a problem. What was annoying was how long it took her to actually get up there.

When the elevator doors finally opened at the correct floor, loud Christmas music echoed through the floor and she could clearly hear cheers coming from the area close to Daemon’s office.

Since the secretary was nowhere to be seen, Rhaenyra walked the now familiar route towards her uncle’s office. Weaving through a variety of cubicles she found a large Christmas tree and a small bar had been set up outside her uncle’s office.

“NYRA!” A loud voice that corresponded to her uncle slurred out and his tall frame ambled towards her. Within moments she was suddenly caught in a warm embrace and she returned the hug with her smaller arms wrapping around his torso.

“When did you have time to get this drunk, uncle?” Rhaenyra asked when they finally parted.

“Oh you think this is drunk, darling. Don’t you remember me at that New Year’s-”

“Andddd I’m going to stop you right there. I still get trauma flashbacks.”

“I must say, you look absolutely stunning Nyra. I’m sure our dear Alicent flipped when she saw you.”

“You should have seen her face when I told her I was going to unfortunately not attend her party.” Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a laugh before Daemon spotted someone in the crowd and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Y/N! I have someone you should meet.” 

Rhaenyra followed Daemon’s line of sight and found the most beautiful woman she had probably ever seen. You were wearing a dark blue floor length dress which was held up with spaghetti straps. A pashmina scarf looped around your elbows and you had a smile on your face as you approached the two of them.

“You summoned me?” You asked when you finished weaving through the sea of people.

“Well yes, I wanted you to meet my niece. Rhaenyra this is Y/N, our newest and most promising associate.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” You said as you offered a hand to the stunning silver haired woman. You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

“I-uh, nice to meet you too.” Rhaenyra stuttered out as she took Y/N’s hand and shook it.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it.” Daemon said with a conspiring tone in his voice before he disappeared into the crowd.

“So… Daemon’s been singing your merits all over the office for a while now so I think I have an unfair advantage here.”

“Oh God, what has he been saying?” Rhaenyra groaned out as she dramatically swept a hand over her hair.

“Nothing bad, I promise. You’re getting your law degree at The Citadel, right?”

“Yup.”

“How’s that? I was debating going there for a while but ended up going to Oxford instead.”

“It's hell but worth it, I hope.”

“I totally get that, Oxford was like medieval torture but I’m happy it landed me in this place.” You said as you swept a hand in the direction of the office space.

“Wait, how old are you?” Rhaenyra suddenly asked before her face contorted in embarrassment. “Shit, that was rude, sorry.”

“Ha don’t worry, I get that all the time. I’m 25.”

“24.” Rhaenyra offered back in solidarity.

“We’re basically the same age then.” You said with a wink before you took a sip of the amber liquid in the glass tumbler.

“Probably why Daemon shoved us in this little corner together.”

“I’m for one glad to be stuck in this little corner with you.” You said as you smirked in Rhaenyra’s direction. A light blush started to dust Rhaenyra’s cheeks.

“I’m glad too, but I’m desperate for a drink. This week has been hell.”

“You don’t like the holidays either?”

“Hate them.”

“We have something else in common after all.”

You spent the rest of the party sitting next to Rhaenyra in Daemon’s office. You drank sparingly, not wanting to be drunk since Rhaenyra needed to drive back and you didn’t want to act like a fool in front of her.

Rhaenyra felt like this was the first time in years that she felt truly happy. It was nice just to talk and gossip and be free to actually be herself. With Alicent it felt like she was walking on eggshells before the incident and now it was near impossible to be in the same room alone with her. But with Y/N…

At first, Rhaenyra went into this wanting just to have a quick hookup but those hours spent talking or maybe it was the alcohol that got to her head but she decided she deserved something better. She deserved someone better.

“Do you need a ride home?” Rhaenyra asked when people started to mill out of the party. Y/N turned to her in surprise before a gentle smile lit up her face.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble?”

“Not at all, but don’t think this is some kind of selfless act - maybe I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Well, we just have to indulge in your selfish desires don’t we?” You said with a twinkle in your eyes and a laugh on your tongue.

“You have no idea the scope of my selfish desires.”

“I would like to find out…”

Rhaenyra basically dragged you down to her car after that little remark. As she drove through the streets of King’s Landing, you took a leap of blind faith (or maybe love) by gripping the hand that lay between the two of you. Rhaenyra instantly threaded her fingers through yours and you spied a small smile making its way to her face.

Once she pulled up in front of your apartment building Rhaenyra bit her lip and turned to look at you - still completely in awe of how pretty you are.

“We arrived.”

“That we did.”

“Well…”

“Well… do you uh-”

“Do I what?” Rhaenyra said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Rhae… I- do you want to come up?”

“Only if we can have a date tomorrow.”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Hmm… deal.” You said as a giddy smile graced your lips. Suddenly the feeling of soft lips meeting against yours startled you out of your reverie and you jumped to thread your fingers through her silky hair.

“You are so beautiful.” Rhaenyra mumbled against your lips before slipping her tongue to delicately stroke yours. It seemed impossible that your smile could widen even more but it did.

“Mmm, says you. You fucking goddess.” You said when you both finally pulled away. Panting and grinning like idiots.

“This is certainly turning out to be a very merry Christmas.”

“Ho ho ho.”

rhaenyra is an bisexual icon just like her uncle and we love her for it !!

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