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#black hair mag
sendmyresignation · 9 months
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something I've been thinking about lately. i do think it's incredibly telling that almost 80 percent of the conversations around 'gatekeeping' and 'posers' and shit end up just becoming vitriolic hatred of 'alt girls' like i hate shit spotify playlists and dollskill fake leather edge and tiktok recommendations as much as the next person but this is a very big attitude coming from a website full of people who spent their formative middle school years shopping at hot topic for multi-colored skinny jeans while listening to like. falling in reverse or 21p unironically (this is a self-own btw). first of all teenagers having shit taste isn't killing punk music. but also why is the object of your hatred always boil down to a woman faking it? as if it isn't the single oldest stereotype in heavy music? like am i insane for thinking this is an issue
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meownotgood · 1 year
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hii ! <3 was wondering if you prefer the look of mappa aki or manga aki more? i honestly love bothhhh sm but im leaning towards mappa - hes so fine in the manga too tho
I really love both of course, but I think I prefer manga aki, especially his look towards some of the later chapters... he's just drawn so soft... I can't explain it hahaha
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soda-poptastic · 5 months
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solradguy · 1 year
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Something that's saved me a shitton of effort in post-editing for scans, is that sticking a piece of black paper behind the page you're scanning keeps the print on the opposite side from shining through. I wish I knew that for the GGX art book. It probably wouldn't've taken me 8 months lol
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yeongwonie · 2 years
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i love you 😅😅😅😅😅
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gaberoothekangaroo · 8 months
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oh man. rip. i had Thoughts in the tags. apparently theres a limit to tags. code ate like 2/3 of my thoughts. and i have 0% confidence in fandom participation that id be willing to write those thoughts up and either add them to the post or make my own post. so now i look like a tool with 1/3 of my unfinished thoughts on a small note post. serves me right for being up at 5/6am lmfao i guess
#mega woof.#basically i had a lot of thoughts about the use of eddies hanky.#and more real world implications/wrenches for peeps to consider.#like hawkins cant be small b/c its large enough that it has a mall.#if youve got a mall youve got enough populace to warrant cruising via hanky code.#but then at the end there i brought up the dichotomy of masculine sexy wild and too feminine within the music genre.#and how billy whos more rock than metal is masculine and sexy but perceived as too feminine.#since his dad calls him a 'fag' which does imply his long hair and small clothing choices makes him more of a target due to.#hes just so slightly off societal norms. vs eddie who flamboyantly steps over societal norms.#and that eddie is closer to punk in his outward acceptance of norms. but that his hobbies place him in less masculine spaces.#hes well within reach to be seen as feminine but that its never brought up on screen.#hes a freak and a weirdo and a satanist but 'fag' he is not.#i also remember bringing up how hawkins would have an adult store or section in the video store.#and then i further brought up that gas stations have adults mags.#also also that if there was a big enough trucker presence that adult mag section might have been large enough for more kink.#which then implies eddie was well within reach of hanky code info. and that he was intentionally wearing his black bandana for a reason.#and not just because its black and metal means black clothes. even tho thats valid.#something something crypts and bloods and much easier to find red bandanas at the time over black ones.#another thing about bikers and leather and bars.#@ me if you want me to actually write out my thoughts i guess.
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pagesinmylife · 1 year
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Things people don’t talk about enough from the Hunger Games:
Many of Katniss’ strongest allies are women that are over looked by others (Madge, Rue, Mags, Wiress)
While Katniss has a strained relationship with her mother, her mother is never demonized. Katniss recognizes the trauma her mother went through and was willing to try to improve their relationship in CF
The rebellion didn’t start with the berries. The rebellion started when Katniss showed compassion towards a dying, black girl that the world had already written off as unimportant
One of the beauty trends in the capitol that Katniss finds odd is the shaving of body hair. When her leg hair grows back in CF, she expresses comfort in it.
Katniss’ character arc throughout the series is her understanding of who the enemy is. It isn’t the rich people in district 12, or the other tributes, or the other districts, or the people in the capitol. It’s the government and it’s Snow.
Katniss never wanted another hunger games with the kids of the capitol. In that meeting she recognizes Coin’s commitment to perpetuating the cycle of violence. She votes in favor of it to cover her plans of killing Coin.
The violence in the books is SUPPOSED to feel random and unfair. Prim being reaped was supposed to be against all odds because in the real world, violence is indiscriminate.
Gale is a victim too and was not solely responsible for the death of Prim. He spent the first two books feeling helpless as he watched people he loved be put in danger and suffer. Coin offered him a way to regain control. At the end of the day, Gale is only 18 and doesn’t realize the depth of the games being played.
Katniss is great with kids and actually enjoys being around them. She says the only reason she doesn’t want them is because she can’t imagine them being put in the hunger games. Her having children in the epilogue is a sign of her healing and finally feeling safe
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
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Line Without A Hook
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta freaks out when you get hurt in the arena and gets teased for how much he takes care of you (catching fire arena)
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Peeta had barely gotten out the words “stay by me” when the cornucopia on the island starting to spin. Tributes flew off and fell into the water as others struggled to grip on to whatever they could.
“It moves?” Finnick shouted to no one in particular as he gripped the first arm he could see through the salt water spray. The arm belonged to Peeta, who looked to his side and panicked when he realized you were no longer there.
“Where did Y/n go?” Peeta shouted over the sound of the waves.
“I think she went over by the weapons.” Finnick shouted back as the dial began to rotate faster. Peeta looked into the center and saw Johanna and Mags struggling to stay aboard but no sign of you.
“Well she’s not there anymore.” Peeta shouted back as his anxiety grew.
“I’m kinda busy here, Peeta. I don’t know where your girlfriend went.” Finnick replied.
“There!” Wiress called and pointed towards one of the arms. Peeta followed her finger and saw you fighting with one of the careers on the edge of a spinning arm. You were winning the fight until another career threw an axe your way and got you right in the rib cage. Peeta just about lost his mind when he saw you go limp and fall into the water. He let go of the center and grabbed the first weapon he could see before sprinting toward where you had been.
“DON’T TOUCH HER.” He shouted as he threw his weapon at the career you had been fighting. It buried in his chest and sent him flying into the water. Peeta then dove into the water and forced his eyes open in an effort to find you. He followed the wavering trail of blood until he found your body floating in the water. By the time he pulled you to the surface, the dial had stopped spinning. Finnick helped him pull you out of the water and tried to give you CPR but Peeta pushed him out of the way. He did chest compressions and mouth to mouth as tears fell from his eyes and onto your face. Finally, your eyes opened and you coughed up some water. Peeta gently rolled you on your side so that you could get it all out and held your hand when you were done.
“Y/n? Are you okay, sweetheart?” Peeta asked as he held your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
“Peeta?” You coughed out.
“I’m here. Are you okay?” He asked again and brushed your wet hair off your face.
“I’m okay. It’s just a knick.” You said and winced from the pain of the wound in your side.
“I watched it happen. It was a lot more than a knick. And you’re still bleeding.”
“It’s fine. I just do that sometimes.” You tried to wave it off but Peeta was not budging.
“Come here. We gotta get you off this thing.” Peeta looked at the cornucopia angrily before carefully lifting you off the ground. He and Finnick brought you back to the beach and helped you lay down on the sand.
“Really. I’m okay.” You tried to assure Peeta once you were on the ground again.
“Let me see how bad it is.” He said and tried to rip your suit around the wound.
“Peeta, I’m fine.” You insisted and pushed his hand away.
“You’re not fine. Just let me see.” He pleaded. You knew he wasn’t gonna let it go so you sighed and unzipped the back of your suit. You’re gingerly rolled it down to your waist, leaving you in the black bikini top you had underneath. It was the least amount of clothing Peeta had ever seen you in so he blushed and adverted his eyes at first.
“How bad is it?” You asked him, making him snap back to the moment. He looked at the wound on your side and relaxed a little when he found it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought.
“It looks worse than it really is. We just need to get it clean.”
“We?” You raised an eyebrow.
“You took care of me once. And I’m not gonna let you die from infection after everything you’ve survived.”
“But-“
“Just shut up and let me take care of you?” Peeta whined.
“Okay.” You smiled softly. “Fine.”
Peeta returned the smile before carefully picking you up. He walked into the water with you in his arms and went deep enough that the salt water could clean your wound. You winced and arched your back to stay out of the water.
“Sorry. I know it hurts.” Peeta apologized and bent his knees to put you back in the water.
“It really hurts. I want to get out.” You told him and flinched when a wave stung your side.
“Not yet. You have to keep it clean.” Peeta said sympathetically. You gripped his shoulder and hissed in pain as he dunked you in again.
“Look at them.” Finnick snorted and nodded towards you and Peeta.
“You think it’s real?” Johanna asked as she sharpened her axe with another knife.
“What?”
“The whole lovelorn star crossed lovers plot. Think it’s all an act?” Johanna asked as she watched the two of you in the water with the sun beginning to set behind you.
“I used to.” Finnick replied.
“Used to?”
“Yeah. I thought it was an act at first. I think we all did. But that boy loves her.” Finnick said most assuredly.
“Okay. That’s enough.” Peeta decided and carried you back to the shore.
“I can walk.” You chuckled when he continued to carry you up the beach.
“I know.” He said simply and continued carrying you. He gently laid you down by the rest of your group and knelt beside you.
“I need something to cover this.” He realized and looked around but all he saw was sand.
“Can you please get me some leaves from the jungle?” Peeta asked Johanna.
“Get them yourself.” She scoffed.
“I can’t leave her. Please, just help me this once.” Peeta asked again.
“Peeta, it’s okay. Really. You can go.” You assured him by taking his hand and squeezing it. He blushed when you did this and nodded his head.
“I’ll be right back.” He promised before running off into the jungle. He returned shortly after with a couple leaves and water in a coconut shell.
“I got some leaves and water. Can you sit up?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” You smiled in appreciation as you painfully sat up. Peeta held the coconut shell to your lips and helped you sip some water before using the leaves to create a bandage for your wound. The sun had set below the horizon at that point and you were definitely ready to go to sleep.
“You can sleep. I’ll keep first watch.” Peeta said as he read your mind. You usually protested and let others sleep first, but you were too tired to do that today.
“Thank you. Wake me up in a few hours so you can sleep too.” You told him as you laid down on the sand. Peeta sat beside you until the morning came and when you woke up, you realized he was in the same exact position as he was when you had fallen asleep.
“Hey.” You said through a yawn that hurt to complete. You winced and touched your side as you tried to sit up. Peeta put a hand on your back to help you sit up and immediately handed you a coconut shell full of water. You smiled graciously at him and drank the whole thing.
“When did you sleep last night?” You asked when you were done.
“I don’t know. Sometimes after-“
“He didn’t.” Finnick cut him off. You looked at Peeta for an explanation and he was red with embarrassment.
“What? You didn’t sleep?” You asked and smacked his arm.
“I tried to take over after I got a few hours but lover boy didn’t let me. He said he needed to make sure you didn’t bleed out.” Finnick continued as he headed towards the water to fish for some breakfast.
“P, you need to sleep. I was fine.” You said and shook his arm.
“I was too. I wasn’t tired.” Peeta replied and you knew he was lying. You gave him a look but he just looked to the side.
“I’m really okay. The salt water helped.” You tried to assure him.
“Oh, yeah. Salt water. We have to keep it clean.” Peeta remembered and stood up. Before you could protest, he scooped you up and carried you to the water. You didn’t complain this time even though it hurt to be in the water. You knew he just needed to take care of you or else he’d lose his mind with worrying. Once he was satisfied, he carried you back to the beach and gently laid you down.
“Are you hungry?” He asked once you were back on the sand.
“I’m all right.” You answered.
“Are you hungry?” Johanna mocked Peeta’s voice in a high pitched manner. You looked at her angrily as Peeta turned red.
“Instead of mocking me, why don’t you do something to help?” He said to her.
“Help how? No one else can get near her because of you. You should’ve seen the way he was watching you last night. I don’t think I ever saw him blink.” Johanna snorted. You looked over at Peeta and he was looking down at his hands with embarrassment. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it endearingly.
“It’s nice that Peeta cares so much. He’s right about infection. A lot of people have died from it in these games before they even realize what’s going on.” You defended him, making him smile at you.
“Oh, give me a break.” Johanna groaned. “Why don’t you two make out some more and get us some sponsors?”
“Yeah. Put on a show so we can eat.” Finnick laughed. Peeta shifted uncomfortably and you felt bad for him. You knew your fake relationship was a sensitive subject for him and now he had to listen to his allies mock it.
“Stop it.” You stated. “We’re not doing that.”
“Please? Just say your vows again in front of the camera. I’m starving.” Johanna whined.
“Then go hunt.” You snapped.
“Come on. What’s the point of being allies with the star crossed lovers if you’re not gonna kiss and get us some parachutes?” Finnick asked with a teasing smile.
“I know. I thought we’d at least get something when Peeta nearly lost his mind after not being able to find you for-what was it- two minutes? I thought his head was gonna explode.” Johanna added on.
“So did I.” Finnick agreed. “If you think about it, we don’t even have to kill the other tributes. Let’s just hide Y/n for a few hours and let Peeta kill everyone while he tries to find her.”
“Leave him alone. No more jokes.” You ordered all while Peeta stayed silently looking out at the waves. Everyone was quiet for a minute and you assumed the jokes were finally done. Peeta looked at you and smiled sadly so you took his hand and squeezed it.
“If they show us how they made that baby, I bet the Capital would send us a feast.” Johanna said to cut the silence. Finnick burst out laughing, making Peeta get up and walk away. You watched him walk into the jungle before looking at Johanna and Mason angrily.
“Look what you did. Why’d you have to tease him?” You asked and smacked Finnicks arm.
“Sorry. Go check on him. Tell loverboy I didn’t mean to make him cry.” Finnick pouted teasingly. You rolled your eyes at him and got up off the floor.
“You guys don’t know him. He’s a lot stronger than you give him credit for. Don’t forget that he won his games.” You said in Peeta’s defense. That left Johanna and Finnick silent as you walked off into the jungle in the direction Peeta had gone in. You found him using the spile to get some more water from you. You weren’t even thirsty from how often he’d been getting you water but you weren’t about to tell him that.
“Hey.” You said as you approached him.
“Hey. I was getting you some water.” Peeta said without looking at you. You could tell he was upset by what the others had been and you hated that you couldn’t even talk about it without the cameras picking it up.
“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the water.
“If you’re hungry, I can go pick some stuff. I know Finnicks been catching a lot of fish so if you need something sweeter, I can try and go find a berry bush.” He offered and still didn’t look in your eyes. You took him face and turned his head so that he had to look at you. He finally looked into your eyes and smiled sadly.
“Thank you.” You said sincerely. “But really, I’m really okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself.”
“I can. But I appreciate you taking care of me. I just don’t want you to worry about me so much. We all need to be on high alert. I can’t be taking up your thoughts all the time.”
“But you do.” He said with a sad smile. You smiled back before pulling him into a hug. He hugged you back and was careful not to put his hands anywhere near your wound.
“I’m sorry they were teasing you.” You said into his ear.
“It’s okay. I deserve it for being so sensitive.”
“I like that you’re sensitive. It’s one of my favorite qualities of yours.” You told him as you pulled out of the bush but kept your arms around him.
“One of?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I like your banana bread too.” You replied, making him roll his eyes.
“Oh great. She likes my banana bread.” He chuckled. “That’s not one of my qualities.”
“I know. But I think about it all the time. I smell it sometimes in my dreams.”
“I’ll make you some when we go home. Your own loaf.” He promised you.
“I can’t wait.” You said through a sad laugh. You knew there was no possibility of that happening, but it made you happy to imagine anyway.
“Do you think we’ll go home?” Peeta asked after a beat of silence.
“I don’t know. We did last time.”
“Yeah but what are the chances of that happening again?” He said quietly.
“I try not to think about it.” You admitted.
“Me too. That’s why I spend so much time thinking about you.” Peeta replied. You looked into his puppy dog eyes for a while and stayed in comfortable silence. Peeta stared at you and touched your hair to keep himself grounded.
“I killed that guy.” Peeta said suddenly in a quiet voice.
“The one who attacked me?”
“Yeah. Him. I threw an axe at him. I could’ve just punched him but I didn’t. I went for the kill.”
“Why?” You wondered. You weren’t mad, it just wasn’t like Peeta to kill someone.
“Because he attacked you.” Peeta said simply.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you kill.”
“I didn’t either.” He admitted. “Do you think differently of me?”
“No. As long as you don’t try to kill me now that you’ve tasted your first blood.” You joked.
“I would never hurt you.” Peeta said sincerely.
“Oh, I know. I was just kidding.” You assured him.
“I know. I just…I don’t think you understand what you mean to me. I saw that guy put his hands on you and I just lost it. I saw red. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought he was gonna take you from me.” Peeta’s voice cracked on the last part so you pulled him back into a hug. You swayed back and forth and rubbed his back to calm him down.
“Hey, hey, hey. I’m okay. You saved me.” You said in his ear.
“I can’t lose you.” He sniffled and hugged you tighter.
“You won’t.”
“I can’t.” He repeated. “So when I’m a pain about keeping your wound clean or drinking some water, please just listen to me. I need to know that you’re okay.”
“Okay. I can do that.” You assured him.
“You better. Because I swear to God, if you die-“
You cut Peeta off by pulling out of the hug to kiss him instead. Peeta stiffened for a moment at the unexpected contact but then melted into the kiss. The kiss didn’t last very long because Peeta got in his head about the motive behind the kiss.
“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.” He pulled away to whisper to you.
“I know that.” You said simply and reconnected his lips in a kiss. Peeta cupped your face to keep you close as he kissed you back. His insecurities melted away into the kiss and he let himself believe you really did feel the same.
“Hey, lovebirds. Get a room or join us for breakfast.” Finnick called from the beach. You pulled out of the kiss and rested your forehead against his.
“I wish he’d leave us alone.” Peeta sighed.
“I got this.” You told Peeta and turned to Finnick.
“I thought you wanted to see how we made the baby?” You called back. You could hear Finnick laugh as he walked back to the water to catch more fish. All while Peeta was a blushing mess over what you were implying.
“You hungry?” You asked Peeta once you were alone again.
“Can we just stay here for a while?” He asked you. You smiled and nodded your head to show him you weren’t going anywhere.
“As long as you want.”
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strang3lov3 · 11 months
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Lookalike
Soft Dom!Joel x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel stumbles upon your dirty mag, noticing your favorite pages bear a striking resemblance to himself! Takes place in Jackson sometime after TLOU
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT!!!  This is not fluffy even a little bit, kind of pervy joel, kind of sleazy too, smut, female masturbation, cunnilingus, soft dom!joel, shy reader, consensual PIV sex, humiliation kinda, joel loves a full bush, begging, joel is dominant but not like, aggressive?? let me know if I missed any
A/N: Y’all, I am very very very proud of this one! Please enjoy this depravity. And have a lovely holiday weekend <3 I am just a few shy of 1k followers, but consider this my thank you for all of your support 😸💗 
Edit: we’re at 1k!!! Thank you so much holy shit!!
If you really like this story, please leave me a comment! Check out my masterlist
Javier Peña is Joel’s pornstar doppelgänger. I don’t make the rules.
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After a long day, Joel was ready to relax and enjoy a bonfire with you. It’s how you spent a lot of summer nights in Jackson, you and Joel and sometimes Ellie just sitting around the fire, sharing stories and shooting the shit.
Tonight Ellie was at Dina’s having a sleepover, leaving just you and Joel together. It was nice to spend nights alone with Joel. Sometimes you’d talk about anything and everything and other nights you’d just share a comfortable silence. After everything you went through on your way to Jackson, it was nice to enjoy some peaceful nights with Joel. 
Upstairs, Joel changed into some plaid pajama pants and a slim fitting t-shirt and made his way through the hall and to the top of the staircase, his heavy footsteps alerting you of his presence. 
“Joel?” you shouted to him from the kitchen. You were preparing a snack in preparation for the bonfire. “Can you grab me a hair tie please?” 
You were peeling apples and slicing bread to make pudgy pies for you and Joel to share. It’s one of the campfire snacks he introduced to you and Ellie. Back before the outbreak, he said, people would use canned pie filling or peanut butter and Nutella as filling for the toasted sandwiches. Now you had to get more creative, so you opted for spiced and sugared apple slices. You preferred berries, but apples were Joel’s favorite filling for dessert. You didn’t mind. He used to make these for his daughter.
“Where can I find one?” he called back. 
“On my bedside table, right by the lamp,” you stepped closer to the staircase so you didn’t have to raise your voice as much. “It should just be a plain black one.”
Joel nodded and walked to your room. At your bedside table, he didn’t see any hair ties. Just some jewelry and a comic book Ellie lent you that she wanted you to read. Perhaps it was in the drawer? 
 Joel opened the drawer and rummaged around your belongings. There was a bottle of your favorite almond scented lotion from the local soap maker, your journal and some pencils, but no hair tie. He should have called out to you to ask if there was another spot your hair tie might be at, but curiosity got the better of him. He knew it was wrong to snoop through your personal belongings, but he couldn’t help himself.
Joel pulled the drawer out a little further and lifted your journal up. His eyes widened at what he saw. It wasn’t your hair tie, that was for damn sure.
 Under your journal was an ancient porno magazine, probably from the 70s or 80s. Joel didn’t bother checking for a date. He had to know what the hell was in this old ass magazine that you were using to get yourself off. He remembered these kinds of magazines from when he was a teenager. They were often tacky and somewhat over the top compared to the explicit videos he’d watched on the internet before the outbreak, but they did the job. Who was he to judge?
Joel sat on your bed and flipped through the pages of the magazine. There were women in frilly chiffon lingerie with bushy and unkempt pussies, just the way he liked them. That was one nice thing about the outbreak, a lot of women ditched the beauty standards of the 90s and 2000s and went au naturale. Joel loved it as a young man then and he still loves it now, decades later.
The magazine nearly flipped itself open to one particular centerfold. It was a man fucking a woman from behind, her back arched and hair covering her face. They were at the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the retro floral duvet cover. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t her who captured Joel’s attention. It was the man. 
He was tall, dark, and handsome with a thick downturned mustache, not unlike Joel’s. He had dark hair and dark eyes as well. Even his nose was similar to Joels, strong and sharp with a curve. Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. The pages were worn and the corners were dog eared, leading Joel to believe that these must be your favorite pages. His ego soared, as if it needed to be any bigger. He always had a feeling that you had a thing for him.
Downstairs, you were growing irritated. “What is taking so long?” you muttered to yourself. Joel was taking forever to find the hair tie you had so neatly placed next to the lamp on your bedside table. After turning off the burner of the stove, you paced through the kitchen and up the stairs.
 “You are such a man, you know? You guys are terrible at looking for things. If it was a snake it would have bit you,” you grumbled out, half talking to yourself and half talking to Joel. You opened your mouth to continue speaking as you walked into your room but froze when you saw Joel on the bed, thumbing through the pages of your dirty secret. 
“I found your spank bank,” Joel taunted with sarcasm, not yet looking at you. He flipped through a couple more pages before turning to face you, his intense stare meeting your flustered expression. 
You were frozen in embarrassment, completely unable to speak, unable to move. Your face felt like it was on fire and you could hear your heart pound in your ears. 
Joel’s low and gravelly voice filled the silence. “Didn’t mean to embarrass ya, baby. It’s okay. Human nature,” he winked at you with a crooked smile. 
You quickly stepped over to him and tried tugging the magazine out of his hands, but he held on tightly. “Joel,” you pleaded as your sweaty fingers slipped off of the paper.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided you. “This dude here kinda looks familiar, doesn’t he?” Joel looked at you with a knowing expression as humiliation filled your chest. Yeah, he looks just fucking like you. Leave me alone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel,” you muttered angrily. You were about to burst into flames, whether from embarrassment or anger you didn’t know. You didn’t care. How dare your body put your shame and embarrassment on display? You were giving Joel exactly the kind of sick satisfaction he absolutely did not deserve. 
“Oh, baby. I think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Look at how you’ve dog-eared these pages,” he used his pointer finger to trace the bent triangles at the corners of the pages. “Guy looks just like me, doesn’t he? Is that what you like so much about these pages?” his southern drawl had your stomach doing flips. “I know they’re your favorite, magazine practically opened right up to them.”
You ignored his question. “The pages were like that when I found the magazine,” you tried lying, but it was a futile attempt. This was bullshit. Joel was the one who was caught red handed, and yet you were bearing the brunt of the humiliating situation. Only Joel Miller could spin this situation to work out in his favor.
“Sure, sweetheart,” you reached for the magazine again, but Joel pulled it out of your reach. “You know baby, you didn’t have to fantasize with a dirty old magazine if you wanted to fuck me. All you had to do was ask.”
You said nothing, just glared at him. Joel wore a loathsome smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. 
“Wish I knew this is what you were usin’ to get yourself off at night. All those pretty noises, all this time. They were all for me, weren’t they?”
Any words you could think of got caught in your throat, it felt like dry swallowing a pill. You just looked at Joel with pleading eyes, begging him to stop making you feel like a fool. If you weren’t so embarrassed, you’d be yelling at him for rifling through your private belongings and calling him presumptuous asshole for insinuating you fantasized about him. Of course, he was entirely correct in his assumption. You were completely and utterly infatuated with him. Even when you weren’t using his doppelgänger to get yourself off, you were thinking of him all day long. 
 “Please,” you finally choked out, feeling tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t take any more of this torture. “Just stop.”
“Oh, sweet girl,” he spoke with a soothing tone. Joel placed a hand on your thigh and twiddled his fingers along the fabric of your pajamas. “You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me what I want to hear.” Joel looked at you with his sparkling brown eyes, darkened with lust. “So what do you like about these pages, baby?”
Turning your face towards your lap, you whispered your response to his prodding question. “I like the way he’s fucking her,” If that’s all it’d take to make him stop, might as well spill your guts.
“Yeah, I do too. It’s sexy, isn’t it?”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, glancing at the familiar image. Joel was 100% right. Those were certainly your favorite pages. You didn’t even need them anymore, the picture was tattooed on your brain. “I like how the man looks.” you admitted with bravery.
“I bet you do. Because he looks like me, right?”
You nodded your head shyly. You couldn’t believe yourself, giving up and letting Joel win. He’d never let you live this down. But maybe if you butter him up a little he’ll let you off easier. “You’re more handsome, though,”
“Oh, baby. Gonna make me blush,” Joel replied to you with a saccharine smile. He really did seem genuinely flattered by your comment. “This is really what you look at when you’re playing with your pussy?”
“Yeah, kind of,” you say, feeling some confidence fill your chest. “I pretend it’s you fucking me like that.”
“Is that right?”
“Mhm,”
“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. I like knowin’ you think of me like that,” he praises you for finally letting go of your embarrassment. He doesn’t only want to tease you. If this is what you fantasized about, he was gonna make your dreams come true. 
Joel takes one of your hands in his own and moves it to your center, pressing your fingers against your core. You gasp at the feeling of your wetness on your pajama pants. “Think you can do somethin’ for me?”
“What?�� you murmur.
“I want you to give me a show, baby. Show me how you touch yourself when you’re lookin’ at that magazine,” Apprehension fills your bones once again at his words. “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. I just wanna see how pretty you look when you come. And after you do that, I’ll fuck you just like how he’s doin’. What do you say?”
“Just like, touch myself?” you laugh awkwardly at his request. This cannot be happening. Right?
Joel sets the magazine down and helps you to the top of the bed. He leans you against the pillows and kisses your lips for a second, and every time his tongue mingles with your own your anxiety melts away, little by little. This is all so surprising, maybe he does really want to make you feel good.
He kisses you gently and with care, using his lips to encourage you to let go again. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, your neck, and down your body before lifting up your pants and looking at you expectedly, asking permission to remove your clothing. You nod and he helps you out of your pajamas. It’s all so sudden and you feel exposed, all naked and laid out for Joel.
“You’re beautiful,” Joel says earnestly as he takes one of your wrists and guides your hand to your needy pussy, encouraging you to show him what you look like when you’re whimpering at the thought of him in the middle of the night. You don’t touch yourself yet, though. You cover your center with your hand, slightly embarrassed by the thick tuft of hair surrounding your vulva.
“I haven’t shaved in forever,” you say sheepishly. It’s kind of silly, worrying about body hair at the end of the world. But you can’t help it.
“That’s alright, sweetheart” Joel says as he reaches for the magazine and flips to one of the first pages he saw, a woman spread eagle with her full bush on display. She’s smiling and radiates confidence. “See? It’s a beautiful thing. It’s how they’re meant to be.”
You’re skeptical. “Do you really think so?” 
“Of course I do. I love your pussy, it’s beautiful just how it is,” Joel grips your thighs and parts your legs, and your fingers gently drop to touch your dripping center. Joel reaches forward and places his hand over yours, helping you circle your clit with your middle finger. It’s slow at first and you squeeze your eyes shut, still feeling slightly awkward. Masturbating for someone else to watch is completely different from sex. You feel vulnerable, like you’re being studied under a microscope. You don’t feel that way for long, though.
Joel continues to help you circle your clit until he senses you becoming more confident, then removes his hand to watch you do your thing. Your fingers swirl around your hole as you gather your slick, then travel up again to rub your clit in those same circles he helped you create. You let out little gasps and whimpers, and it’s music to Joel’s ears. Finally, he has an image to match with the moans and other noises he hears from your room.
Usually you can get yourself off fairly quickly but with Joel in front of you, it takes a little longer. You open your eyes and peek at him. His dark and hungry eyes are focused on your center, but they flick up to your own. He smirks devilishly at you for a half second then goes back to watching your actions, almost obsessively. He is obsessed.
The sight of him pushes you closer to the edge, and he watches your pussy twitch as you finger your clit even faster. His expression changes then. He’s no longer looking at you with adoration and lust. Joel looks angry and jealous, with a furrowed brow and a scowling frown. You tilt your head slightly in confusion but before you can think Joel lunges forward and rips your hand away from your cunt, pinning it next to your torso. 
“Let me taste you?” he whispers. You nod hurriedly in response. Lick me, touch me, do anything.
He presses a kiss to your clit and you gasp in surprise. “This is my pussy now,” he growls. Now that he knows what you look like touching yourself for him, he can’t just sit there and watch you anymore. Joel’s desperate, he needs to make you come. “From now on, you’re only gonna come when I say so. Do you understand?”
You mumble incoherently and Joel swats your thigh, not satisfied with your answer. “Do you understand?” he repeats, his voice dark and serious.
“Yes, Joel,”
“Good girl. You just relax now, let me take care of you,” he instructs you. Your head falls to the pillow, and you let out a soft exhale as Joel wraps his strong arms around your thighs and pulls your pussy to his face. Joel inhales your scent deeply, enjoying your aroma. 
He licks a long stripe from your slick hole all the way to your clit, flattening his tongue against you. He licks every inch of you, memorizing your folds with his deft tongue. When he’s satisfied with the way he’s worked you up, he focuses on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before inserting two fingers inside of you. 
“Joel,” you gasp out, hands reaching for his salt and pepper curls. Your thighs clamp around his head and he removes his hands from your body to spread them out again. 
“You stay open for me now,” he commands. He plunges his fingers back inside you and curls them upward, hitting that spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes see stars. You moan loudly when Joel’s lips attach to your clit once more, this time gently sucking on the sensitive bud. He’s drunk on your taste, completely addicted to your flavor. His tongue continues dancing on your center and you pull him close to you, rutting your hips into his face. Every once in awhile you swipe his nose and he uses the opportunity to dip and twirl his tongue inside of you. 
This is the best way to eat pussy, Joel’s learned. Find out what makes her tick and keep doing that, let her grind on his lips and nose. Right now, your wish is his command.
You reach down and grab his not working arm to bring it towards your breasts. Joel picks up what you’re putting down immediately and trails his hand over your breasts, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. That’s all it takes to have you coming in his mouth. 
You cry out his name as you buck your hips into him, fighting the urge to push him away when the feeling becomes too intense. 
Joel doesn’t allow you to catch your breath. He flips you on your tummy and drags you down the bed, his fingernails pressing into your skin. “You did so good for me, baby. You gonna let me fuck you now? Just like you pretend, right?” He pulls his shirt over his head and steps out of his pajama pants behind you.
“Yes, Joel, please,” you whine.
“I like hearin’ that. Keep beggin’ for me,” Joel demands as nudges your thighs apart with his knee. He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, painting his precum on your skin. He pushes the tip inside, not yet dipping all the way inside you.
“I need you,” you sob with desperation. 
“Need me to what?” He knows what you need, but Joel’s gonna make you spell it out to him.
You let out a groan of frustration and back your ass into his hips. Joel chuckles at your annoyance. “Come on now. Tell me what I want to hear,” he repeats his words from earlier. “Put that pretty mouth to use.”
“I need you to fuck me,” 
“There you go. Was that so hard?”
Joel wraps his hands around your hips, his fingers digging into your lower stomach and his thumbs pressed firmly into your lower back and slams his hips into you. His fingernails leave dents in your skin.
You yelp at the sudden contact, not expecting him to go so hard and fast. His thick cock stretches you out and you can feel the tip hitting you deep inside. 
“Always knew this pussy would feel good,” he mumbled behind you, beginning his firm pace. 
You arch your back into him, using your body to tell him what you need. You love the way he feels, so strong and holding you so tight. It really is a fantasy come to life. “Don’t stop, please,” you cry for him.
“Mmmm,” he hums. “You love this cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, Joel,”
“That’s right. It’s all for you, baby,” he continues pounding into you.
Joel stops for a second and flips you over on your back. He apologizes, “Sorry, sweetheart. I know I said I’d fuck you like them in the magazine but fuck, I gotta see you,” he says. “Can’t let you hide those tits from me anymore.”
Joel pulls your legs up and places them over his shoulders, opening you up even deeper for him. He lets out a moan at the change in position.
He admires the way you look, all of it just for him. Your half lidded eyes, mouth open and spilling out moans and obscenities with every snap of his hips. You’re completely fucked out.
You reach down to thumb your clit and he smacks your hand away. “What’d I say earlier? You come when I say. I didn’t say, did I?” he scolded you.
“N-no,” you stutter out. 
Joel takes your wrists into his hand and pins them above your head. “Can’t trust you, sweetheart. Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” He snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you with what could be and never giving you more. 
The wet squelching noises of your pussy and the slapping sound of skin hitting skin have your head spinning. Joel fucks you at a merciless pace, frenzied and desperate. He’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows it’s agonizing, almost painful the way you’re aching for release. But he’s determined to teach you a lesson. 
“Please,” you choke out. “Just make me come,”
“I don’t know that you deserve it, baby, Touchin’ yourself to that picture of my lookalike? That’s awful selfish of you,” he chided you. “Depriving me of this?”
“Joel,” you whined. You’d do whatever it took to get some release.
“Tell me how long you were needing me,” Joel panted. “Weeks? Months?”
“I don’t know. Forever,” you admitted. “I need to come now, please.”
“Forever? I wish you said somethin’ earlier, baby. You wouldn’t be in this mess,”
You didn’t know how much more you could take. Tears of frustration were streaming down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides. You were right there, you just needed permission to let go.
Joel was right there with you, also struggling to hold on. He wanted nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, but he’d never seen something so erotic and sexy. Your body, tangled in his own, your twitching thighs and furrowed brow. And he was responsible for all of it, responsible for turning into this wreck. 
“You’re takin’ me so good, sweet girl. Beggin’ and askin’ me so nice,” he whispered. “You do one last thing for me, and I’ll let you come.”
“Anything,” you gasp. Now his wish is your command. 
“You focus right here. Look at me, and don’t close your eyes. Keep makin’ those pretty noises for me, just like you always do,” You’re not even consciously trying to follow his orders, you just do. You can’t break your stare from his dark and hungry gaze, his lip curled in a nefarious smirk. Breathy moans and high pitched squeals escape your mouth. 
“Always knew you’d be my good girl. Alright now. Let go for me,”
That’s all you needed to reach your peak. The warm, coiling feeling in the pit of your stomach erupts, shooting electricity through your veins. Your vision goes blurry and you hear staticky ringing as you cry out for Joel. It’s all you can feel as wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body. 
Joel’s thrusts are sloppy now as he chases his own orgasm. Your fluttering walls and the way you whisper his name like a prayer are all he needed to reach his peak. His hips are stuttering and his muscles jerk and tremble as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his seed. Joel hovers above you, placing wet kisses and tonguing your salty skin. He’s addicted to the way you taste. 
It only hits you now how surreal this entire evening is. Joel’s above you, collecting himself and catching his breath and you’re still pinned beneath him. Of course, you imagined fucking him many times prior to this but it was never this way. You couldn’t complain, though. 
Joel interrupts your thoughts with a kiss, sweet and gentle and loving. A stark contrast to the way he fucked your body just moments before. “So apple pudgy pies, right?”
You giggle. Joel is such a typical man, wanting a snack right after sex. At least he’s not already passed out on top of you, the way other men often do. “Yes Joel, just like you asked for,”
Joel backs away from you then with a cute little fist pump, as if he’s winning a prize. “Fuck yeah,” he whispers, walking to the bathroom completely nude. He’s got such a nice and plump ass, you notice. 
He comes back and wipes you off with affectionate care, being extra conscious not to irritate your sensitive skin after the rigorous fucking. He helps you into your pajamas then and kisses you on the top of the head. “I’m gonna get the fire goin’, meet me out there?” 
“Sure, Joel,” you respond with a smile. “I have to finish up with the apples first, though.”
“Take your time. I’ll be out there,”
You sit up and kiss Joel one last time, the way his lips slide against yours gives you butterflies. It’s a little late to feel that way after what you just did. You go to the bathroom then go downstairs and finish prepping the apples, stirring them over the stove. Once they’re finished, you prepare the sandwiches and make your way outside to sit next to Joel.
The warm glow of the fire illuminates his skin and he looks so handsome, his features look so defined by the light and shadows. He helps you put the sandwiches in the pie irons and then places them on the grill above the fire, careful to make sure they’re not getting too much heat too quickly. 
The fire begins to shrink, flames not reaching quite as high as the sandwiches need. You turn your head around you looking for some more firewood, but the sound of ripping paper interrupts your search. 
It’s Joel, tearing out pages of a magazine. Your magazine, from before. You look at him with confusion. 
“I told you, sweetheart. You won’t be needin’ this anymore. You come to me,” he explains with a low voice, flipping the cast iron pans. “I took good care of you, right?”
You smile shyly. “You did,”
“And I intend to keep takin’ care of your needs,” he promises. 
You nod wordlessly, still smiling. A few more moments pass before Joel removes the irons from the fire and removes your pies to cool off, then slices them in half. They’re golden brown and the spicy, sweet, warm smell is sinfully delicious. The gooey apples spill from the bread slightly. Your tummy grumbles at the sight. 
The dessert has cooled enough, you decide. Taking a half of one of the sandwiches in your hand, you bring it to your mouth and take a small bite, the cooked apples are like lava in your mouth. You hiss at the burn on your tongue and lips. 
Joel looks at you with disapproving concern. “Tsk,” he mumbles with displeasure. “You’re terribly impatient, aren’t you?” his tone from the bedroom is back. Reaching forward to take your chin between your fingers, he swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting some of the apple filling. Your eyes widen, you’re startled by his touch. 
“I’ll fix you, though. Teach you some self control,” he sucks his digit into his mouth and pulls it out with a pop, humming at the sweet flavor. “Lord knows you need it.”
 All you can think about is sucking his cock the same way he sucked his thumb. You wonder how the soft skin of his dick would feel on your tongue. How he would taste, how he’d look as you take him deep down your throat. 
God, how you need it.
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ratridingaskateboard · 5 months
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Always See Your Face
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New girl! Reader x Eddie
Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.
Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!
A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --
--
Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.
Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.
She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.
What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.
Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.
"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.
"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.
Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.
"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.
The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.
"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.
It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.
"Okay, Y/N. This way!"
Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.
--
Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.
She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.
Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.
Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.
"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"
A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.
"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.
There was nothing but silence.
She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.
Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.
This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.
"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.
"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.
"Hey." She waved.
--
A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!
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steddielations · 1 year
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It's just another boring day running the store, even more boring than normal since Robin’s out sick. There’s not any kids around either, the beanbags by the bookshelves have been empty all day.
Steve’s working his shift alone. It’s all very mundane, just waiting for the clock to run out. That is, until the door flies open.
It’s just a flash of black clothing and the clinking of metal accessories as the figure suddenly barrels right over the counter. Steve shouts and immediately reaches for the nail bat— yes the nail bat— he keeps behind the register. He brandishes it menacingly as the person stands upright.
It’s a man, with crazy wild hair and even crazier eyes, widening comically at the bat and holding his hands up. He squawks at Steve.
“Whoa, hey! What is that thing?! What the hell, man!?”
“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me, I’m the one what the helling you here!” Steve snaps back.
“What!”
“Just tell me what you think you’re doing here, punk!”
Something like disbelief comes over his face, and he lowers his hands to gesture over himself, “Dude, I’m clearly a metalhead.”
“I’m gonna put some metal in your head if you don’t start talking,” Steve snarls, gripping the bat tighter.
“Okay, okay!” His hands flail, shifty eyes bugging out the front windows before he suddenly crouches down behind the counter, “Just let me hide out here for a minute, there’s— people after me that I can’t deal with right now.”
“Oh yeah, what 'people’?” Steve narrows his eyes at the expensive looking chain dangling around his neck, some kind of red pendant on it, “Did you get caught stealing from the jewelry store next door?��
Again, he gives that look, not the typical guilty look when Steve chases down the usual petty thief, he just looks like he can’t believe he’s in this situation, as if he’s not the one that hopped over the counter.
“I didn’t steal anything, alright? I just need to wait here until it’s all clear.”
“Mr. Simon is chasing you, isn’t he?” Steve groans, lowering the bat to rub his hand over his face. He hates that old jeweler, always complaining about Steve taking his parking space when he doesn’t even have a car to use it. “Christ, okay. He might have a war flashback and actually kill you, and I already have enough shit on my conscience. You got two minutes.”
“Five?”
“One and a half.”
“Okay, Jesus. Two please and I’ll let you have a picture after, whatever you want.”
Steve thinks it’s a weird thing to offer at first, then it clicks.
“Yeah, I do want a picture ‘cause your ass is going on the banned wall,” Steve points the bat to the array of photos on the back wall, right up there with the little pricks that kept asking what shelf the skin mags were on, and the asshole that was rude to Robin once.
The guy looks over and he… chuckles, “Starting to think I picked the wrong counter to hide behind.”
Steve glares when he’s met with the stranger’s smile, “You think?”
“The rainbows in the window caught my eye, thought they were pretty cool,” he gives Steve a kind, but measured look, “I’m assuming the bat is for people who don’t?”
That rocks Steve a little. The subtle touches of rainbow decorating the storefront were Robin’s idea, just a welcoming sign for those who know what it means, who need it. Which, apparently, is this guy too, dark eyes watching as Steve makes the connection.
Plus, the kind of kids that get off the bus and hang out in the beanbag corner of the bookstore, also tend to be the type that bullies flock to, but not here, Steve makes sure of that. Not with the nail bat, that’s for things more serious than school bullies.
“Is that who’s after you?” Steve asks, shooting a look out the window. His gut starts to twist in some form of empathy for the guy, it would make sense why he hurtled inside so quickly.
“No, nothing like that, but I still need to lay low for a second.”
Steve squints, empathy gone.
“Okay well, the bat is for thieves too, then. You know, Mr. Simon might be a mean old shit, but he doesn’t deserve to be stolen from. He’s got a family, dude.”
“Well, isn’t that admirable. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, the whole local protector, vigilante bat-man thing, it’s pretty badass,” A pun. This would-be thief really just made a damn pun about Steve’s would-be murder weapon. “But I didn’t take anything from anyone, Stevie boy.”
Pun forgotten, Steve grips the bat tighter, demanding to know, “How do you know my name?”
Another annoying smile as the guy gestures to his chest, where Steve’s name tag is. Right.
“Tell me yours,” he counters, noticing how the guy’s smile falters, looking hesitant, crouching lower, hiding. Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna go to the cops, man. Your face is going on the wall and your name is going on the list.”
This guy is just smirking way too much for someone in his situation, “Wow, I must be real special then. It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”
“Okay then, Munson,” Steve narrows his eyes at the necklace again, “If you didn’t take anything, then where’d you get that chain, huh?”
This Eddie looks caught off guard, his mouth already formed into some excuse that Steve cuts off.
“Just hand it over,” he flourishes the bat this time, satisfied with how Eddie looks both impressed and intimidated. His eyes stay on Steve as he removes the necklace, dark and alive with something, like he’s enjoying this somehow.
“Okay fine, easy with that thing, big boy. You can keep it for now as collateral for letting me stay.”
He passes Steve the chain, and Steve doesn’t want to fuss with his jean pockets so he just slips it over his head, Eddie’s eyes tracking where it falls around his neck. He sees it’s not a pendant like he thought, it’s a red guitar pick resting against his chest. Not Simon’s usual merchandise, but the chain definitely is, it’s expensive, Steve can tell.
“But, as good as it looks on you, I’m gonna need it back when you realize it’s not stolen.”
Annoyance. That’s the flare of heat Steve feels, it has to be, this whole exchange is getting him hot under the collar. He obviously knows Eddie’s hitting on him, not the first time he caught someone up to no good, and they clocked the rainbows and tried to flirt their way out of it. And this guy isn’t bad looking, maybe under different circumstances in a nice bar somewhere, Steve would flirt right back, but he’s not falling for it now.
He’s glad the couple minutes are up, doesn’t know why he checks out the windows to make sure it’s all clear for Eddie.
Bat still in hand, he makes Eddie stand while he fishes out the polaroid camera behind the counter.
“Don’t you want to get in the photo?” Eddie asks.
Steve’s free hand snaps to his hip, “And why would I want that?”
“Right,” Eddie grins, sticking out his tongue when Steve holds up the camera, throwing up that same hand sign that Dustin keeps making nowadays when the flash goes off. “No fun kissin’ a picture of yourself. Or, maybe it is when you look like you do.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Playing cute with me isn’t gonna get you off the hook,” and sits the newly printed polaroid on the counter, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot. It’s just the adrenaline coming down.
He finally puts the bat away, still watching warily as Eddie comes closer, picking up a pen and scribbling what looks to be his phone number on the photo.
“Gotta say, this was nice, Steve. I’d love to do it again sometime,” he smirks, hopping back over the counter the same way he came, “I mean it though, give me a call about that necklace. What kinda rockstar would I be without my lucky guitar pick?”
“Yeah right,” Steve snorts, “I don’t wanna catch you around here again. I never forget a face, Munson, especially not yours.”
“I’m flattered,” he pats his hand over his heart, then throws Steve a wave as he pushes open the door, “Keep that up and you can call me anytime.”
One last wink that sort of makes Steve’s chest flutter and he’s gone. It’s nothing, just some crazy guy that annoyed him half to death, and he hopes he never sees again.
When his shift ends later that evening, he goes next door to try and return the necklace to Mr. Simon, but he insists that it wasn’t stolen from his shop.
Steve’s starting to think he may have accidentally robbed someone at nail-bat-point. But it’s not possible because that’s not possible. How do you accidentally rob someone? What crime would he even be charged with? A little oopsie burglary? Ridiculous.
No, the old man is just out of his mind and doesn’t recognize his own shit. It’s the only thing that would make sense in that whole bizarre situation. Who else would Eddie have been ‘hiding’ from? Why else was it so urgent that he handed over the necklace without much fuss?
It’s not until days later when Dustin hops onto the counter that Steve really realizes.
“Steve,” Dustin says slowly, “Why am I looking at a picture of Eddie freaking Munson on the banned wall?”
Steve looks around, “That guy? You know him? I caught him stealing from Mr. Simon the other day.”
“You— He— What!? He was here?” Dustin sputters, “Steve, I’m 1000% sure he wasn’t stealing shit! What did you do to him?”
“I did my job, Henderson. I banned him from the store and got back the necklace he took— What— Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Steve.”
It’s over the course of the next conversation, getting completely chewed up and spit out by Dustin that Steve learns he didn’t just accidentally rob someone.
“STEVE.”
He accidentally robbed a world famous rockstar.
Steve spends the next few days so deeply embarrassed that he can’t even dare to pick up the phone. He gave Eddie such a hard time when all he needed was a place to hide out so he didn’t get mobbed by fans and paparazzi.
Looking back on it, knowing what he knows now, Eddie handled it with such grace. Steve’s even more ashamed, not because of the whole rockstar thing, but because it's shitty to hurl accusations and a deadly nail bat at anyone, and take their stuff on top of that.
He finally bolsters up the courage to dial the number. As soon as he hears ‘what’s up, it’s Munson’ on the other line, he lets loose a string of apologies and a promise to give the necklace back as soon as he can.
It gets cut short with that same chuckle that still gives him a warm chill even down the phone line.
“Keep it. Looks better on you,” he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice, “But that means you’re gonna have to come to my show tonight. Can’t play without my lucky guitar pick, can I?”
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snekberry · 1 year
Text
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future!jon waiting for his martin to arrive
post MAG-200 tma time travel au series
[ID: A four panel comic about Jonathan Sims from the future interacting with Jon and Martin from season 1 of TMA. Future Jon is a thin, brown-skinned man with long, greying dark hair in a ponytail, and various scars. He wears a green “What the Ghost” hoodie. Jon from the past has short hair with less gray, and wears glasses, and a white button down shirt with a black tie. Martin is a large, pale man with red hair and glasses, and wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt.
The first panel shows Future Jon lounging in a chair, while drinking from a mug. There is an arrow pointing to him that reads “borrowing past! Jon’s spare clothes”. He is grinning with his eyes closed and saying “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to arrive in this timeline.”
The next panel shows Jon and Martin from the past. Past Jon is sipping from his own mug, and looking at Future Jon with interest, as he thinks “I get a boyfriend in the future?” Martin is also holding a mug, and smiles pleasantly as he asks “Oh?”
The next panel shows them again, as Martin gets jealous, and tightens the grip on his mug until it begins to crack under his hands. His expression is still pleasant as he asks “Who’s your boyfriend?” Past Jon notices Martin’s mug and reacts with shock, saying “Good lord!”
The last panel shows Future Jon again, sitting forward a bit and grinning slyly at the pair of them, looking highly amused. He says “Oh, you’ll see.” End ID.]
Thank you @/coulson-is-an-avenger for the ID!!
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meownotgood · 11 months
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LITERALLY WHEN I SAW ATSV I WAS PONDERING SPIDER AKI .. imagine he does the kon motion to shoot his webs?? idk i just wanna see him in the spidey suit HDJWBF
also i feel like his suit wldnt b outright blue but blue wld b the main accent colour !! (i mainly wanna kiss spider aki like in the one scene from spiderman 2002)
- 🐙
I KNOW JUST HFNBFHF EVER SINCE I GOT HOME I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
omg him doing kon to shoot the webs is such a genius idea... just... him saving u from danger... him in that tight ass suit... it hugs his chest and his shoulders and his waist... trying not to salivate rn
AND YES GOD I'M SO GLAD YOU MENTIONED IT BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT THE UPSIDEDOWN KISS WITH HIM HHHHHHHHHH
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charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
Part 6 of childhood friend Simon
“You missed a spot.”
“Like hell I did.”
Simon’s eye twitches as you snort, turning back to your phone. “Some sniper you are, blind bastard.”
The silence stretches for one, two, three…..
“Where?” he sighs.
“Left side of your jaw.” You gesture at the spot just near where it curves, a few centimeters from the corner. He runs his thumb over the spot and finds a patch of stubble.
“Fuck.”
“‘Like hell I did’,” you mock.
He narrows his eyes, points threateningly. “Watch it or I’ll shave an eyebrow.”
You snort, unconcerned. “Remember that time I did shave my eyebrows?”
He smirks as he runs the razor over the bit he missed, double checks he got it, then rinses in the sink.
“Wasn’t it because of some stupid YouTube video?”
“Yes, and I still have nightmares about having to draw them in.”
He nearly snorts water everywhere trying not to laugh, quickly wiping his face off with the towel you hand him.
“Didn’t your mum start calling you caterpillar girl?”
Your mouth drops open, scandalized.
“Simon Riley you swore you’d never bring that up again!”
He laughs outright as you chase him from the bathroom, whacking him in the arm. When he puts his hands up in mock surrender, you give him one last swat for good measure.
“Assaulting a military officer is illegal.”
You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re legally dead, aren’t you? So wouldn’t that be desecrating a corpse?”
“I’ll have to ask Laswell.”
“Or we could ask Johnny. I bet he’ll know.”
The implication of Johnny knowing versus having an opinion is not something Simon’s equipped to parse before his first cuppa.
“Johnny’s just gonna side with you.”
You shrug - because it’s true. Johnny may be Simon’s (other) best friend, but he’s also a shithead that takes every opportunity to fuck with Ghost. And with you around “protecting” him, he’s been an absolute bastard.
“Then we’ll ask Gaz and John too,” you offer as you step into your shoes.
You’ve been lining them up next to his boots off to the side. The contrast of big, black leather next to your much smaller trainers would be almost comedic if it didn’t make his chest warm.
A reminder that you’re here with him, in a place he usually spends all his time wishing to see you. He’s called you countless times on the same bed you’ve been sharing for the past week. And now you’re wearing his official SAS hoodie (complete with his name on the back) and invading his wardrobe, about to go with him to breakfast in the mess.
Johnny, in a shocking twist, doesn’t think it’s desecrating a corpse to smack Simon.
“Well, he’s Ghost, aye? So it’d be exorcising him, no?”
Your eyes go all big as you turn to Simon with unholy delight. He makes a mental note to throw Johnny onto the mat once more than usual during their next spar.
That’ll have to wait though, because he’s promised you range time and then the obstacle course. Johnny tags along, interested to see your marksmanship when Simon’s talked it up so much.
He watches on, pride bright and hot in his chest, as you walk through all the steps he’s taught you. It’s even his favorite gun in your steady hands, fingers elegant as you load, chamber. Click the safety off and settle into your preferred stance.
The first two shots hit the target, though off to the side, the second closer to center than the first. You pause, take a breath before he even says anything. Then fire again. And again. And again. Until the mag is empty and he brings the paper target back.
A neat cluster of 15 holes, dead center.
“Atta girl,” he rasps, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss against your hair.
“I did good?” you ask, beaming.
“Lass, even those first two would have been the end of some poor sod,” Johnny chimes in, patting your shoulder. “Guess the LT isn’t such a bad teacher after all.”
Simon narrows his eyes. “Was that even a question?”
Johnny shoves the ammo box at you. “A pint says you can’t do it again.”
“You’re on!”
The obstacle course is slightly less of a success.
“Oh, hey, Si,” you giggle, clinging onto the rope for dear life. “Ya come here often.”
He snorts. “Did you get stuck?”
“No!” You huff, scowling. “Im just… hanging around.”
He’s enjoyed watching you navigate the course - more importantly, he likes that you enjoy climbing around. Even if he’s had a small heart attack every time your foot slips or you wobble.
“Oi, you’re holding up traffic,” Gaz huffs, rapping his knuckles against your foot.
“Do you mind?” you call back. “Im telling Simon bad jokes.”
“Oh, by all means then.”
Simon snorts, jerks his head for you to continue. Johnny laughs as you shimmy along, laughs harder when you almost fall flipping him off.
Once you make it to the other side, Gaz climbs up after you and starts demonstrating how to do the next section. Simon and Johnny follow along, the latter cheering you on.
Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention; Price, determined set to his shoulders. Simon recognizes the glint in his eye.
“Got ‘em?” Simon asks, hopeful.
Having you spend all day with him on base has been a subconscious fantasy come true. You, close by and safe, under 24/7 guard. But the circumstances have made his skin crawl, made it difficult to enjoy the novelty. Woken him up in the small hours of the night and hug you as close as he can without waking you.
“Fuckin’ got ‘em,” Price confirms. “Laswell’s got the docket prepped. All that’s left it briefing and prep. You can be wheels up in a few hours.”
Simon cracks his neck, anticipation sparking in his veins. His gaze slides to you, to his teammates helping you down from the wall. Price follows your gaze.
“You good for this one, Simon? Got your head on straight?”
Simon flicks him a look. “You know I’m good.”
“I know Ghost is good. What about Simon?”
He blinks, gaze going back to you. You can tell already even from a distance, by the set of his shoulders, that something is going on. You’re still relaxed, but there’s a questioning curve to your mouth as you stop at his side, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt.
“Something happened?” you ask.
“We found the group targeting you.”
“Oh!” You arch your eyebrows, eyes bouncing between him and Price. “You’ll be taking care of it, then?”
Simon turns back to Price, a silent “well?”.
“We’ll discuss strategies during the brief.”
You perk up. “Do I get to come?”
“Might as well,” Price sighs. “Let’s go.”
In the end, of course Simon is going to go. You’re his girl, always have been. He trusts his team, but when it comes to you, he’ll see this done right. And the only way to be sure, the only way to have peace, is for him to eliminate the threat himself.
Johnny’s coming along, of course. The slightest bit of tension in your shoulders eases when Price decides it. Simon presses his thigh into yours.
When the brief is done, strategies and timelines set, you follow him back to his barrack. He gears up while you sit on the bed, idly inspecting his vest while he straps into everything else.
“Nervous?” he asks.
You tilt your head back and forth considering. “Not more than usual before you leave. It seems like this is pretty standard for you, more or less. Why, should I be nervous?“
He snorts. That’s his girl. “No.”
You hum, picking at the Velcro of his SAS patch. He pauses, watches your face. You’re not anxious, but there’s… something.
“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, chucking you gently under the chin.
“I…” you pause, hum. Try again. “I don’t like that you’re going out just because of me.”
He frowns, settles on the edge of his bed. You lean with the dip in the mattress, pressing warm and solid against his side.
“I feel like… like I messed up somehow, and now you have to fix it for me.”
He blows out a breath, yanking the mask off. You tilt your head to look at him, eyes soft, the tiniest frown on your face. He peels his glove off too, to cup your cheek. Revels in the warmth and smooth skin against his scars and callouses, always a little surprised when you lean into it.
“I’d get you world peace if you asked for it,” he replies.
“You’d be out of a job,” you half-joke.
“You are my job, daft thing.” He shakes his head, leans in until he can thunk his forehead gently against yours. “You’re what brought me back from the grave. Knew I still had work to do, that you still needed taking care of.”
You sniffle a bit. Always do when he digs up the words to remind you how much you mean to him. Not that he thinks you ever doubt it. How could you? But sometimes, he thinks, it bears repeating.
“You haven’t made a mess, luv. But even if you did, I’m always right here with a mop, yeah?”
He’d burn alive just to keep you warm. Drown to fetch you a glass of water. Anything, everything. Just so long as you’re still here, still his.
“I’ll take care of this and then come home to you. Due for a holiday anyway.”
You close your eyes, a faint little smile tilting your lips. He can’t look away. Never can.
“We can go on that camping trip you’ve been talking about,” you say.
“Yeah, luv. Toast marshmallows like the old days.”
You hum, a proper smile finally blooming across your face.
“Okay,” you murmur. “Promise you’ll come back. Both of you.”
“Promise. Be good for Price while I’m gone.”
You open your eyes, a mischievous sparkle in them. “We’ll see.”
You see him off on the tarmac, serene and assured. Stripped of faith and belief, there is one certainty in your life, always and forever. And it’s Simon. He’s going to come home to you, because he promised he would.
“Raise hell, Si.”
“Already raised the dead,” he muses, hell shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Aye, I’ve got just the C-for it.”
You groan at the joke, but don’t deny Johnny a parting hug and peck on the cheek. “Look out for each other.”
“Will do, hen.”
You don’t hug or kiss Simon. Don’t need to, you’ve said your goodbyes. You squeeze his hand and then step back as he heads for the plane with Johnny chattering all the way.
“Alright, little miss?” Price asks when it’s just the two of you.
“Always,” you reply, turning to smile at him.
You have to be, for Simon.
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princessbrunette · 7 months
Text
kinktober : oct 1st
leon kennedy x post shower fun
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leon always looked good, that was without a doubt.
whether he was stood in some decrepit and abandoned hallway, his navy tshirt clinging to his strong chest and thick fingers contrasting out against fingerless black gloves as he swaps out his mag — or in a suit, presenting himself in a formal office setting looking clean and tidy with a charming grin on his face. however, to you, he was at his best right after he’d get out the shower.
often times, you can’t stop yourself from satisfying your urges when he steps out the tepid bathroom of your apartment, and today was no different. his torso was bare, strong chest and shoulders glistening with droplets and running down his strong sculpted stomach. the sage green towel was tied low on his hips, the shape of his thick natural bulge still present beneath the material. his hair was partially air dried already, slightly messy on his forehead. he looked to fucking die for, honestly — and it was obvious from your expression where you sat perched on the bed with your hands on your lap, sucking on your bottom lip as he only offers you a small tired smile, walking to the dresser to check his phone where it was on charge at the wall.
you’d laid out his grey sweatpants to change into afterwards, but you were pretty sure upon seeing him that he wasn’t going to make it into them just yet. see, it wasn’t just that he was stood there looking good, no. he’d been gone for two days, fighting some kind of evil, some kind of crime, you’d lost track of the story. he’d made it home that evening, and you’d done everything to make him comfortable — make him food, start the shower for him, made sure there wasn’t any injuries he was hiding, but god you’d missed him — even if it had only been two days.
“leon, c’mere.” you don’t mean to for it to come out so whiney, but it does anyway. he’s in the middle of rolling his tense shoulders, the muscles in his back dancing like choppy waves when he hears it and turns, eyes jumping up and down the way you’re sat in a flimsy tank-top and panties.
“did someone miss me?” he’s tired, but never too tired to smirk and tease you, slowly stepping towards the foot of the bed. you meet him there, crawling to the edge and grinning up at him as you lean on your hands. his hand is still a little warm and damp when it instinctively meets the side of your head gently, coarse thumb rubbing at your cheek tenderly. “wasnt gone that long, was i?”
you kiss the skin above his belly button, warm and slow and now you’re looking at him with those needy doe eyes and he’s thinking god, is she good to me. he’s never met someone with such a strong urge to please, no matter their own urges. the smirk fades into more of an adoring smile as his chin meets his chest to look at you, letting one knee take his weight on the soft bed. “long enough.” you mutter, hand curling into the towel where it was bunched at his hips and pulling so it loosened.
“yeah?” he crooned, feeling himself start to heat up a little more. his cock was only half hard, heavy, pretty and pink when you unveiled it, and you let out a soft whimper at the back of your throat just at the sight of it, letting your knees slide back on the bed so that you were laying on your stomach, eye-level with it. you kiss the soft shaft gently, kitten licking the tip as he hardens, his hand passing over the back of your head affectionately. he’s not even fully hard yet when you take his tip in your mouth and start suckling needily, hips squirming against the sheets in a way that was so distinctly horny.
“oh, pretty girl.” he let’s out a sigh, one of relief and relaxation once he’s at his full stiffness, wet and throaty noises filling the room as you massaged your saliva into him with your lips, using your splayed hand to run up his hips and stomach when it wasn’t cupping his balls. when he speaks, it’s barely audible — it’s addressed to you, but it’s like he’s speaking more to himself as he watches you with frowned brows. “you get so needy, s’fucking adorable. pretty mouth missed this dick, huh?”
you whine around him, not only at how good he tastes but also at the warm and comforting timbre of his voice that makes goosebumps erupt all down the backs of your arms. you pull him out your mouth to sloppily jerk him, clumsily pushing yourself to sit up again, just wanting to be closer. you lean your chin against his stomach so that you can gaze up at his pretty face, your eyes all glazed and doll-like as you watch him lovingly. he hisses through his teeth at your expression, and when you thumb over his slit, and bends at the waist to lean down and kiss you, heavy tongue pressing on yours and swallowing your moan, his strong hands either side of your neck to hold you still.
there was nothing leon loved more than your pretty face, and he couldn’t wait to finish all over it.
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shojizbae · 2 months
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JJ Dating a Kook
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JJ picked up a job caddying at a golf course
He makes good tips for the first two months
One day he is assigned to a caddy for a mother, father and daughter
He expects some rich little 9 year old with her head up her ass
Enter you, beautiful, graceful, kind, and damn good at golf
He blushes (for the first time since he was 12 and found his dads nudie mag) when you accidentally brush his knuckles when he hands you your nine iron
Your dad, who’s the typical rich overprotective Kook dad, noticed this and tries to stiff him on a his tip
You noice that he only hands him a 50 for putting up with your parents nonsense for four hours
You point out one of your dads work buddies and your parents drift over to chit chat
You grab your dads wallet and pull a handful of twenties and shout that you need the rest room before you leave
You run over to JJ where he’s parking the golf cart he’d just driven y’all around on when you approach him
He jumps up and removes the course company hat to greet you
“My dad’s an asshole, here’s the rest of your tip.” You hand him the hand and he numbly receives it
“Thanks,” he chuckles and puts his hat back in his head. When he gets home and counts it he realizes that you had tipped him $240
“I feel like I’ve seen you at a bonfire,” he looks up for the wad that he was trying g to approximate
“Yeah, I go to most of them,” he takes his eyes down to the salmon skort you were wearing, it matched your hat
“I hope I’ll see you at the one this Saturday,” you giggle and skip away leaving him stunned
He does see you that Saturday. You were standing my the fire in black sweatpants and a royal blue bikini top. arms crossed with a red solo cup loosely held in your fingers
The fire made you look so radiant
He down the rest of his PBR and grabbed two more. The lion enters the den.
“Whatever that is looks like shit,” he hands you one of the beers he’s holding.
“Kinda” you throw back the final swig and toss the cup into the flames. You receive the glass bottle with half smile and look back into the fire to watch the cup melt “Thanks JJ”
His heart sings you remembered him!
You going golfing again soon?” It’s the only thing you two have in common so far
“No, I don’t get out often. My parents don’t want me out of the house without supervision. They have no idea I’m here, think I’m at the gym.”
“At,” he checks his phone “11:40?”
“Yeah,” you bite the cap of your beer off and spit it away from JJ “they’re kinda naive”
You spend the rest of the night huddled up to his furnace like body cracking jokes about pogues and kooks alike
Surprisingly you’re back at the golf course 3 days later. This time donning a shorter navy blue skort and a gray polo. You request explicitly for Jj to be your caddy
You had convinced your dad to let you go alone.
You flirt with him the whole time he’s driving you around the course. Purposefully grabbing his hand when he hands you a club. Resting your hand on his thigh as he drives. Readjusting the company hat he’s wearing. He may have cute hair but he can’t hide his cute face with it.
When you're in a secluded part of the course, you make out against the golf cart for a few minutes. Having accidentally hit into some surrounding woods
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