#flyer credit cards | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

batterygarden · 2 years

Text

Aki Hayakawa bf headcanons

m.list!!

cw: F!reader, she’s shorter than him, sliiightly suggestive moment .. MDNI

Sigh he’s… really good at being a boyfriend. He’s intimidating but sweet all at the same time.

He loves a nice passenger princess and loathes sitting beside you while you drive. Not that he doesn’t trust you, just… your technique behind the wheel has him stressed.

“No no please don’t merge now i'm not sure if— woah, okay that was close now just— noo stop we don’t turn here! Baby do you not know the—check the — okay pull over actually! It’s okay I can drive! It’s fine, please let me drive.”

He calls you a menace to the streets 😔

He likes to go to concerts and house shows with you. Ugh he loves an indie punk mosh pit for sure. He doesn’t seem like he’s that into it in the moment—maybe listening with a little head nod while his hands remain secured around your waist, glaring at people who shove into you, but you can tell in the flush of his cheeks and lit up eyes that he’s thoroughly enjoying his night.

He has the advantage of always seeing the stage with his height, something you say he takes for granted when some equally tall guy decides to stand directly in front of you. But Aki has enough audacity to nudge you both in front of any perpetrators whenever your vision is blocked.

Lest we forget… this man has no manners! To most people, Aki can be direct to the point of rudeness—his demeanor could even be described as harsh.

Especially when it concerns his sweet little girlfriend. He doesn’t fuck around when it comes to you. He’s protective. He cares about your comfort and safety before anyone else’s and isn’t afraid to hurt feelings that aren’t yours.

Not that he doesn’t know you can stick up for yourself—he respects your ability to handle most situations. But he also knows when you shouldn’t have to handle it yourself. If somebody at the bar won’t stop grabbing your arm and you’re uncomfortable, Aki will be the one to tell them to back the fuck off.

If some man makes a joke about your outfit being slutty, Aki will be the one to back hand him across the face! He knows you could have done it but it’s nothing you needed to mess up your nails over.

He’s cute in little ways you wouldn’t expect. For example, you didn’t imagine when you first met him that this 6’4” cigarette-smoking death machine was into cartoons and animation but damn!! He is.

He’ll watch wholesome shows with you like sailor moon with the straightest face, looking bored out of his mind with his arm over your shoulder, then turn to you when it’s over like “that was delightful :)”

He has a small trinket and keepsake collection <3. And he’s not embarrassed about it. He will shamelessly steal a little frog keychain he finds under the seat in his uber and place it on his night stand beside his miniature Radio Flyer wagon and the light blue rock you found for him. The rock supposedly looks like his eyes, he thought the gesture was cute.

He wants to match his jewelry with yours. Lets you pick out the earrings you want and asks you to get him a pair too, sliding his credit card into your hand while he looks at watches through the glass at the store.

He knows they’ll be nice and look good on him—he trusts your taste and style recommendations explicitly—but he also wants to match because it makes him feel more connected with you.

He’s a touch possessive. He likes to be reminded you’re his. And he’s yours. He wants you wearing his clothes, he wants you borrowing his cologne, and he’d never admit it but he likes when you leave the house with love bites on your neck.

Not that you mind—honestly he’s earned the right to possession after taking such good care of you all the time.

It took you a while to get through your pretty head that Aki likes helping and caring for you.

Like he’s into it if you’re needy… triple and quadruple texting, calling him to ask for rides, pouting if you can’t hold his hand… you make him feel valued.

But even when you’re not needy he enjoys going out of his way to make your life easier.

He’ll do your dishes when you don’t ask, make your bed, give massages. You don’t have to mention it.

“Noo you don’t have to do my laundry Aki, I swear. You surpassed your chore limit today like, long ago.” He’ll retrieve the towel he used to dry dishes and be like I needed to wash this anyway, I’ll just throw your stuff in the machine with it!

He uses your claw hair clip to hold his hair back when he’s doing stuff around the house. <3

He also religiously adheres to the sidewalk rule <3

So emotionally intelligent it’s insane. This man is in therapy & it shows in his communication; he knows how to word things gently but honestly!

“It’s valid to feel that way. For sure, s’just.. I disagree that you need to go to those lengths for her when she keeps blatantly disregarding your feelings.”

He’ll let you smoke one of his cigarettes if you’re reeally persistent but he’s always weird about it.

“Just… wish you wouldn’t. What if you got lung cancer or something.” “Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll catch up and I can get it the same time as you.” He’d roll his eyes. “Ha ha. Y’know it’s different when I do it.”

“How so?” “I’m tough. and you’re not even addicted yet.”

He loves getting domestic with you! Cooking together with his phone playing quiet background music, watching a movie with you in his lap, letting you do your skin care on him. These are by far Aki’s favorite activities.

Heavy on the skincare part—Aki was blessed with perfect skin since birth so he never really put much thought into cleansers or anything, but the first time you did a facial for him was one of the best days of his life.

You’d laid him down on your bed, straddling his waist with a towel full of products laid out next to you, and Aki said it felt like you were about to perform surgery. You wet his face with a damp cloth then, and started rubbing some mysterious soap into his skin with a touch like warm flower petals. Your hands felt so soft. When you started wiping some fruity scented blue gel over his skin after, it felt so soothing he almost moaned. The whole thing was so relaxing he had a dream about you washing his face again when he fell asleep that night. He never explicitly told you how much he loved your skincare, but you picked it up when he started asking you to do him next every time you washed your face at night.

You’re his sensitive little baby so he never goes overboard but… Aki does tease you sometimes 💔. He can’t help it—he was an older brother once, so tasteful bullying is kind of ingrained in his DNA.

Like you oversleep then almost rush out the door with an inside-out shirt and toothpaste on your chin and he instinctively says you look scrungly. There’s a pause then he apologizes.

Or you’ll say you didn’t think pulp fiction was that insanely good of a movie and he’ll move your fresh cup of tea onto one of the really high selves only he can reach until you take it back.

He’ll also mention it immediately if you’re ever stinky. Fresh from the gym? Forgot to put on deodorant today? Aki can tell and he will let you know. <3 He’s nice enough to accompany you in the shower though!

denji bf hcs 1 & 2

#Aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa headcanon #Aki hayakawa x you #csm x reader #chainsaw man hcs #chainsaw man x reader #Aki fluff

4K notes · View notes

woman-for-women · 11 months

Text

NEW, FREE RADICAL FEMINIST STICKERS JUST DROPPED!

My new sticker materials should arrive tomorrow so I added the new sticker designs to the store here! Yes, they're free! It's a pay what you can model, so lots of women who order pay literally nothing. You don't even have to give the site credit card information.

Feel free to download my designs from my website and print, sticker, or flyer them yourself.

If you're curious how these stickers are made or you want to make stickers yourself, you can buy a thermal label printer and label tape:

You can design the stickers in the supported app or you can design the stickers on Adobe Illustrator or Canva and import your designs as images. The printer allows you to print QR codes, images, and text!

In the meantime, please order some stickers here! Stickering is an easy feminist action you can take, and you can do it for free!

One last thing: because I can include QR codes in my stickers, which websites should I link to? Drop suggestions for anti-porn and radical feminist/gender critical websites below.

#stickers #stickering #w4w speaks

351 notes · View notes

leverage-ot3 · 4 months

Text

notable moments from The Cross My Heart Job

leverage 4.09

(team comes down an escalator toward the main floor)

Sophie: Well, that trip was a complete disaster.

Hardison: It was a train wreck.

Eliot: No, it was a shipwreck. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I was in the wreck.

Hardison: Hey, man, I don't want to hear you complain. At least you don't have to fix th-the ear buds. You know what?

Eliot: Man, don't talk to me about the ear buds! I just fought three ex-Brazilian combat divers with spear-guns, underwater!

Hardison: I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it.

Eliot: You believe this? (taps Sophie’s arm)

Sophie: Ow, don't touch me. I am sunburnt everywhere. I hate playing the French heiress on the topless beach.

Parker: Oh, I don't know what you're complaining about. I didn't even get to see the emerald.

Hardison: Are you for real?

Eliot: Oh, my god, for the last time, it's not an emerald. All right? It's an island. It's the "Emerald of the Caribbean."

chaotic family on an escalator

- - - - -

Parker: The heart could be anywhere by now. They could have jumped in a taxi and driven off.

Sophie: No, no, we have to assume it's still in the airport, that they're planning to fly it out.

Parker: Why?

Eliot: 'Cause otherwise, we've already lost

- - - - -

Eliot: All right. They're in there. We're gonna need a distraction.

(Sophie takes off her pants and uses her long shirt like a dress, then shakes out her hair and pulls a pair of heels from her purse. Parker counts some cash)

Parker: All right, they told Linda to call from a pay phone for instructions once she made the drop.

Eliot (hands Parker money): Better hurry up, or they're gonna start getting suspicious.

Parker: It's a good thing we didn't stay on that island to see those emeralds.

Eliot: Parker, I just t...

(Sophie leans on Eliot to put on her shoes)

Eliot: You carry high heels in your purse?

Sophie: I always travel with heels. (takes Parker’s scarf and ties it around her waist) How's this? Distracting enough?

Parker: Hmm.

parker and eliot both look away, partially to give her privacy but partially to act as a wall so that other people won’t see her changing

notice the stark contrast between this scene and the other changing scene in this episode

- - - - -

(the clerk closes the doors. Inside, Eliot pulls the kidnapper between two tables while Parker talks to Tanya)

Paker: Yeah, that will work. We'll get you a little taser, carry it with you wherever you go-

parker and her tasers + being surprisingly good with kids

- - - - -

Nate (to Eliot): What do you got on this guy?

Eliot: He's not a professional. He has no combat training. Lousy Zanshin.

Parker: The what?

Eliot: He's a loc... It means "personal awareness." Thug for hire, but very well funded. (hands Nate tickets) Two first-class tickets, one for him and one for the girl, and that's how they got past security, and (hands gun to Nate) plastic gun. One or two shots in the barrel warps, but that's pretty much all you need, very pricey hardware.

Parker: Why would someone pay for that but not hire a professional?

Eliot: He doesn't want a professional. He wants a local so we can't trace him back to him.

- - - - -

(Eliot uses a cord to tie the kidnapper’s hands)

Eliot (to Sophie): Don't suppose you travel with handcuffs.

Sophie: No, not on this trip.

👀👀👀

- - - - -

Parker: Plus the ear buds are busted.

Hardison: And I burned our phones and our credit cards so we can't be traced.

Sophie: Most of our money went on bribing the waiter.

Eliot: We're operating in a secured area.

Parker: And my lock picks are checked.

Hardison: And airport wi-fi is a joke. Face it, we're practically naked.

- - - - -

(Eliot and Parker walk out of the Restaurant and part ways. Parker approaches a kiosk that sells computers and looks around, then crouches to look at the locks before walking away. Eliot approaches an electronic store before yelling catches his attention from a check in desk not far away)

Platinum Flyer: You guys! Hey! Platinum flyer over here. Come here. Somebody look at me.

Airline Clerk: Sir, please calm down.

Platinum Flyer: Ju... let me stop you right there, okay? I don't care what seats you have left, all right? Do you see this? (holds up a card) I am a vista Atlantic platinum flyer, all right? Is this card gold? No. Look at it. Is it silver? No.

(Eliot looks around, sees a magazine and picks it up)

Platinum Flyer: It's platinum, all right? So if you think that I am sitting back in coach with the rabble, you got another think coming, all right?

(Eliot puts the magazine over the Platinum Flyer’s briefcase as the man tries to drop his wallet into it)

Platinum Flyer: You can just forget it. I don't even want to talk to you anymore. Who's that? Thing one and thing two, come here. You guys. Hey!

(Eliot walks back to the electronics store and pulls the Platinum Flyer’s credit card from the wallet. He enters the store and grabs several packages of walkie talkies, then flags down a clerk)

Eliot: Yo, yo, yo. Come over here.

(Parker tries on various sunglasses, stealing a pair before walking away. She walks past again and steals a snow globe. On another pass she steals a bag. She returns to the computer kiosk and breaks the sunglasses to picks the locks, revealing an old style CRT monitor)

all this competence porn, it’s SO GOOD

- - - - -

(later Parker and Eliot take apart the walkie talkies at a table while Hardison uses an old computer at the bar with Sophie and Linda watching while Nate paces)

Nate: Hardison, come on.

Hardison: Look, man, this is like stone knives and bearskins, okay? Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a nerf sword.

Eliot: Damascus, 2002.

Hardison: Like you've been to Damascus.

domestic parker and eliot taking apart walkie talkies? eliot legit sword fighting with a nerf sword? amazing

- - - - -

(the clerk watches from behind them, amazed)

Hardison: Wh-what? Come on, man. Like you've never seen a man travel with a desktop before. Go.

LMAO

- - - - -

Nate: Right there! Right there. Him.

Sophie: Dean Chesney?

Nate: Dean Chesney, CEO of Vertronics defense contractor. I had my eye on him for quite a while, but he was never a high-priority target.

Hardison: Why not?

Nate: He was dying.

- - - - -

(Eliot sits down and his feet hit against the struggling kidnapper. Eliot kicks him in the head but he continues making muffled sounds)

Nate: Are you done?

(Eliot kicks the man again)

Eliot: Yeah

- - - - -

Hardison: After we get out of the public areas of the terminal, we work on level two. It's ground crew, tarmac access. It gets us from here to the private terminal.

Parker: How do we get that? Break Eliot's wrist?

Hardison: What? N-no, no. We just pick one up from where the ground crew left it.

[Locker Room]

Parker (opening combination lock): Yeah, this will keep my stuff safe, from a 6-year-old with the DTs.

(Parker opens the locker and removes a jacket. Eliot closes the locker and hits the lock on the one next to it, opening the lock. He pulls out a level 2 badge and hands it to Parker)

Eliot: That's two.

(Parker and Eliot begin to change clothes)

🔥🔥🔥 scene tho 🔥🔥🔥

also, notice how they start getting changed without turning around or anything, like hardison would have immediately turned around because that’s who he is. she literally immediately takes her shirt off without a care. he doesn’t even blink at it. eliot and parker have a very strong, nonverbal, physical bond because they’re similar entities. they understand each other on a deep level because of their pasts and there isn’t that type of need for modesty between them.

also they’re literally so close to each other when they’re doing this??? literally, personal space? they don’t know her

ALSO, eliot throws his shirt at the camera and idk it feels like he’s giving parker privacy from the “onlookers” (aka the camera) if you get what I’m saying,,,

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, we have to lure them out.

Parker: Oh, okay. Set Nate on fire?

Eliot: Settle down

she mouths “no” back at him and they have a silent exchange where she ends up smiling I love them

- - - - -

Hardison (pacing): Come on, Eliot. Come on, come on. Come on, man.

Announcer: Mr. Picard. Mr. Kirk Picard, please meet your party at door "E.

ELIOT KNOWS HOW TO GET HARDISONS ATTENTION. HE KNOWS TO MAKE A STAR TREK REFERENCE AND BAM HARDISON KNOWS WHATS UP. WHAT D O R K S

- - - - -

(Eliot gets into a cart that Parker is sitting in. She holds up the keys and hands them to him)

Parker: Let's ride

her SMILE and EXCITEMENT

- - - - -

Hardison: Excuse me. Uh, something's wrong with my pin. Can you reset it for me?

(Hardison hands the card to the guard, who scans it)

Guard: Can you confirm your old pin?

(the screen shows that the card belongs to a woman and the guard looks at Hardison in surprise)

Guard: Uh...

Hardison: What?

Guard: Wh—

Hardison: what? You got a, you got a problem? My little transformation? Go on, speak your mind. Yeah, I had some surgery, huh? A little nip, a little tuck, a little pop, okay? And now I am who I'm supposed to be. I used to be Francesca. Now my name is Frank!

Guard: Um...

(a second guard turns to look at Hardison)

Hardison: You got a problem? You... excu—excu—I didn't know this was the club. You all up in the mix, don't even know the flavor. What's your problem? (walks around the desk aggressively) You got a, you—everybody got a problem with this? Look, racism, sexism, anti-semitism? That's how you y'all want to play this? Cool. I thought it was a no-no in airport security, but I see y'all profilin' me right, left, and center, everywhere. You know what? Shame on you. Shame on your mama. Shame on your kids.

(Hardison glances at the monitor to see the pin number, then walks back around the desk)

Guard: I-it's fine. I-it's fine. I got no problem with anything. Uh, it-it looks like you used to, used to be a-a really pretty girl.

Hardison: Used to be?

Guard: A-and n-now you're a-a very handsome gentleman.

Hardison: You hitting on me?

Guard: C-can you confirm your old pin?

Hardison: It's 5135.

Guard: Uh. (scans the card) Okay, there. Try that.

Hardison: Thank you. (looks at second guard) You better re-adjust your peripherals.

Guard 2: Real smooth.

(Hardison returns to the card reader and scans the card, entering the pin)

Reader: Pin accepted.

Hardison: Don't care what anybody else says. Next time, I'm taking the train.

I can’t tell if this scene was transphobic or not ??? like, it could have been worse and he called out people who would be judgmental of his “transformation” ???

like there was like one other kinda transphobic thing they did in the show but I forget the episode

- - - - -

Nate: I know what you're gonna say.

Sophie: I think you should have a drink.

Nate: Okay, I didn't know what you were gonna say.

Sophie: Look, we don't like it when you drink, (pours him a drink) but we trust you when you do. We both knew this was gonna get personal. We need you to stay clear-headed. You let it get to you now, it's gonna go bad for all of us. Be very careful, Nate.

- - - - -

Nate: Sam would have been 13 this year. A teenager. Almost a man. I mean, you know, probably a big pain in the ass, but… Joshua Spin is getting out of that hospital bed.

(Sophie nods. Nate sighs and takes the drink, looking down at Sophie’s hand over his)

- - - - -

hardison’s GRIN when he sees all the computers in the tower 🥺

- - - - -

Parker: It took us 8 minutes to get there. It's gonna take us 8 minutes to get back. Wait. (goes around to the front of the cart)

Eliot: What are you doing? Wait. No way!

(Parker lies on the ground and reaches under the cart)

Eliot: Come on, Parker, we got to go! We got to get-- Let's go! What are you do-- Quit monkeying around under there!

(Parker stands up holding a piece of electronics)

Eliot: Did you just pull something out of the engine?

Parker: Yeah. Spark regulator, keeps the cart from going more than 25 miles an hour. Now we'll get there in 4 minutes.

(Eliot starts the cart and takes off quickly)

Parker: Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Yeah!

- - - - -

Nate: Last week on that island, you faked a volcanic eruption. How is this harder?

HE DID WHAT NOW

- - - - -

Nate: You just sell it to the tower.

Sophie: Massdot special?

Nate: Massdot special.

Linda: Massdot special?

Sophie: Yes! (takes Linda’s phone and makes a call)

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: National Weather Service. This is Rachel.

Sophie: Oh, thank God!

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I was just out walking my dogs, and I saw a tornado touch down!

(Nate pulls up pictures of tornadoes on the computer)

Rachael: Are you sure?

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: The current forecast don't indicate any severe-weather patterns.

Sophie: I'm sure.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I took a photo of it with my phone. I'm sending it to you now.

(Nate sends a picture of a tornado to Rachael as he dials the phone)

[National Weather Service]

(Rachael looks at the picture in shock)

Rachael: Uh, please hold, ma'am. (places Sophie on hold and takes another call) National weather service. This is Rachel.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: Are you asleep at the wheel? There's a tornado out here by the airport right now! A freaking tornado! Come on!

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: Bill. Bill!

Bill: What is it?

Rachael: We got calls here. I think we need to issue a tornado warning for the Cincinnati metropolitan area.

- - - - -

Chesney: --to make the top of the list. This is my only chance. I've planned for months. I have eight backup contingencies. I'm fighting for my life, Mr. Ford! What are you fighting for?

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I am fighting for that 15-year-old boy that you're going to kill.

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: God helps those who help themselves.

Nate: And I help people who can't.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: And God help you if anything should happen to that boy, because if he spends more than one second longer in that hospital than he needs to, I will make it my mission in life to end you.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: I will ruin you.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I will ruin your name. I will ruin your company. I will bring down everything you have ever touched. And when I am done, I will hunt you down--

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: --and I will kill you myself.

[Crab-a-Rama]

(Nate hangs up the phone)

- - - - -

parker yells “yee haw” a lot and I love her for that

- - - - -

Pilot: Tower, field is in sight.

Program: We have you in sight. Clear to land on runway 1-8.

Hardison: Okay, flight 4-0-9. W-we have a visual. You are clear to land on runway 1-8.

Pilot: Roger. Clear to land.

(the airplane lands safely)

Pilot: Tower, we are down.

Hardison: Yes! Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about.

Pilot: Say again, tower?

Hardison: I'm sorry. No, no, I'm sorry. It's cool. It's cool. It's cool. Celebrate with me. All right.

hardison managed to land an airplane with 300 people on it with nothing more than a computer and a flight simulator and we STAN our intelligent man

- - - - -

eliot was always standing next to hardison in all the extra scenes in this episode and we love to see it

- - - - -

(Eliot looks at Nate and Sophie, then nudges Hardison)

Eliot: Let's go.

(Eliot grabs Parker on the way down the hall, Hardison follows them)

his lil pat on hardison’s shoulder? how he places a guiding hand on parker’s arm, leading her away? we LOVE to see casual touches and casual intimacy between them

- - - - -

so hardison likes to assemble model helicopters in his spare time sometimes and nate assembles model ships in his ???

- - - - -

Chesney: So now what? You can't report me without exposing yourself. And what's to stop me from trying again?

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: I am. (hits remote to bring up information and a video feed on the monitors) I'm watching you. I'm watching your money, your people, your company. What have you got there, a pulse rate of 86?

[Chesney’s Room]

(Chesney looks around in alarm)

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, look at that.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: Just jumped up to 104. That can't be good for you.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Make your peace now, Chesney. (continues putting model together) Because if I see anything, anything I don't like...

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: Well, Mr. Ford it seems you've killed me after all.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, I didn't kill you. God killed you. I just made sure it took. (hangs up)

#eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #leverage #nate ford #nate ford meta #sophie devereaux #sophie devereaux meta #parker meta #alec hardison meta #eliot spencer meta #meta #notable moments #the cross my heart job #leverage season 4 #mine #leverage: let's go steal a queue

110 notes · View notes

sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 1 month

Text

My thoughts on X-Men 97 (spoilers below)

Congratulations Morph on making it into the opening credits! Congratulations to Bishop and Magneto, too, but Morph is like the little redshirt that could, they went from "killed off two episodes in" to opening credits main character. You are the Guy Fleegman of X-Men TAS Morph, even if you are a not a guy. They even did a "threatened by Sinister" montage for them.

Thank you, Gambit, for bringing back crop tops for men, you are a fashion god. And the very first scene with Gambit is him in the kitchen making beignets.

Jubilee getting to be the experienced X-Man welcoming the new kid who was saved from kidnapping is a nice call back and kind of "full circle" for her.

Fantastic sequence of them fighting Sentinels, especially Cyclops doing the whole "optic blast his way to the ground" thing. And he could have gotten one of the flyers to catch him, he just wanted to be cool.

Nice to finally see Morph and Wolverine banter when Morph isn't being set up for a tragic death or brainwashed/filled with angst. No, now Logan is the one filled with angst, because he can't deal with pregnant (with Scott's baby) Jean.

Sunspot with his little glow sticks, and Jubilee dancing at the club is adorable.

Sunspot's card that he gave to Jubilee is the most 90's thing ever, look at those graphics.

Storm. I saw that "Lifedeath I and II" was part of the episode titles for future episodes, so I knew it was coming, but damn. It was extremely well done. Having her take the hit for Magneto instead of Rogue makes sense, and is another example of TAS writers combining comics stories (Storm's power loss and trial of Magneto) really effectively.

I kind of like that, after Cyclops gets beaten down by X-Cutioner, Morph is the one who jumps in to save him. Like, despite being a sarcastic little shit and all the previous bad blood, Morph's got Scott's back.

Wolverine driving Jean to the hospital, and Rogue using her powers to absorb "baby delivery skills" was all great. "He's coming!" "Who?! Apocalypse?" "The baby!!" And then Jean just telekinetically slapping Wolverine with his jacket and jeep keys.

One Jean? Two Jean! (Red Jean....Blue Jean?)

I'm surprised we've got a Jean double already, I expected that the show would drag it out much longer before showing Maddie. I am wondering if Madelyne will have been programmed to believe that she is also Jean, and there will be confusion over the "real" Jean. I am very, very curious as to where they will go with the Madelyne Pryor story, especially since Goblin Queen will presumably show up at some point.

#x-men 97

46 notes · View notes

that-struggling-writer-lh · 10 months

Text

Look How Pretty You Are.

No outbreak! No use of y/n!

WARNINGS: DBF! 18+ Minors DNI. This is smut! BIG age gap. (Reader is 22, Joel in his 40s) Unprotected p in v (don't be dumb). Praise, quite a quicky. Would love to write a part 2 to this, tbh.

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

Coming home from college in the summer meant two things. I was left to my own devices Monday through Friday, and weekends were crazy. Loud, party filled affairs my parents put on with the entire neighborhood being welcome. This summer was different, though.

Freshly graduated means that this summer was my last one before becoming a “real adult” as my parents put it, even if with the fancy business degree I’d likely just end up in the office dad’s contracting business. A silent, small building that was really just a way for calls to be directed to him from the desk, filtering the bullshit and getting to the point. The click clack of fingers on the keyboard as I did payroll, budgeting, projections, ad flyers. The works. Most of the work was boring, lonely. Silent.

“Hey, can you run to the store for some beer? Mixers? Snacks?” Dad’s tall figure peeked into the office, clothes covered in sawdust, face covered in sweat. “Friday night and all now that you’re old enough to make those kinds of runs. It’s quiet today. Let yourself off early.”

I mulled it over momentarily, not really wanting to go shopping for my parents’ party. But knowing it might get me into the party this year, when all previous I’d been asked to stay inside, book in hand, or movie playing loudly to try to drown out the noise of splashing in the pool, hollering and dancing to upbeat music on the porch, “Sure, I can do that. If I can actually attend this year.”

My father ran a hand through his thinning hair, “Alright, sure.” he shook his head in a “no” motion, but the verbal okay was all I needed.

A smile tugging my lips, “Give me your card?” I motioned for the wallet tucked into his opposite hand, grabbing my car keys and nodding.

“I’ll also keep you on the clock until five if you do a favor for-”

“What? What favor?” slight annoyance tugging at my stomach, but knowing that extra money coupled with the prospect of a night drinking with the neighborhood was too good to pass up.

“Joel sent his grocery list. With Sarah away now, he’s having a hard time remembering these things. He asked if maybe you’d be willing to lend him a hand there, and I said sure.”

“As long as he fixes that shelf in my closet like he promised five years ago.” I tore the slip of coffee stained notebook paper from my father’s hand and eyed it carefully after remembering the shelf that had broken above my head in my bedroom closet while moving out for my first year of college. Dad promised it would be fixed before I was home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, five years later it was still impossible to put any items above my head to sit on the wood.

“Consider it done, I’ll have Joel get on it next week.”

Steak, chicken, snack food, rice, potatoes. “Can I add things? Is this really all he eats?” I raised a quizzical eyebrow, “how is he still alive?”

My father laughed softly, “Sarah used to do all that, just take his card and grab what you think he’ll like, I guess.”

Joel. The much older, very handsome man who had been the object of my desire since I was old enough to understand the term dilf, Joel. Always present, always prepared, my father’s best friend since High School. So extremely off-limits, even now that you’re an adult. It would only bring trouble.

My father handed the two credit cards to me. I guess today’s task was to be a personal shopper.

Joel, who I’ve had a key to his house since I was hardly ten years old, Sarah and I frequently needed it after school to group together to finish homework, raid the cabinets, and make messes through the home until her father would come back and scold us for being teenagers.

Joel, who was my first fantasy. Authoritative, but kind. Hard, but soft. Ruthless, but understanding of my and his daughter’s antics up until his tear streaked face sent both of us away to the same college, except I returned home and she found a job in the city.

Joel, even thinking of him at the red light while waiting to turn into the grocery store had me clenching my thighs together in my sundress, need filling me even when knowing I’d never get to taste.

The list focus. I got all of his essentials and then some, wanting him to be satiated for longer than the weekend, giving him options for the start of the week before he’d inevitably go back to fast-food runs between job sites.

After Joel’s list was taken care of, I shopped for the party, dividing the orders up before checking out and returning to town, stopping first at Joel’s house since his order had more need to go to the fridge than the alcohol and snacks my father had asked for.

Halfway through putting his order away and tidying a few other areas to be helpful, the front door opened, the sound of boots kicking off, Joel’s muttered voice so quiet I couldn’t hear it. I suppose he was used to talking to himself now, though.

“I thought I saw your car here.” his friendly tone rang from the kitchen entrance.

“Yeah, Dad gave me your list. So I figured I’d get it all set for you. I didn’t know when you’d be finished over at that apartment complex, so I- well. You know.”

“You tidied up?” he asked, looking at the organized dining table, and the lack of dishes in the sink.

“There were only a few things, I thought-”

“Thank you. I’ve been a mess with my little girl gone.” he smiled.

“She misses you. We called each other last week. Talked about the hell we raised here, how we were sure you hated us.” I laughed softly, closing the fridge and putting a box in the familiar cabinets, knowing this house as well as I knew my own.

“Nah, I could never hate you girls. Kids being kids, is all. I was young once, too.” he had a soft look of remembrance, looking at me like he was a million years away, “But you’re all grown up now. Well adjusted, smart, beautiful girl.” he sighed, rinsing out his coffee thermos in the sink quickly.

I had never heard him call me beautiful before, and my heart lurched at the compliment. Though, I’m sure he meant it in a far different way than I’d construed. Like a second daughter, like a neighbor across the street. Like someone he helped raise. Not like beautiful beautiful, “Thank you, Mr. Miller.” I smiled softly at his sentiment, anyway. Wiping down the counters when I’d finished, “I took the liberty of getting you some extras. Steak and potato diet only gets you so far.”

“Oh, thank you.” he sounded genuinely grateful, “I never know what to do, or what to eat, really. Sarah usually would-”

“I know, she’s a great cook.” I giggled, showing him the receipt that I’d crumpled in the pocket of my cardigan, placing it in his hand, “Here’s the damage.”

He looked everything over carefully, “That’s fine.” he nodded, “Thank you. But, don’t call me Mr. Miller. That’s weird.” he smirked, “Just Joel. Same as always for the last 22 years.”

“Sorry.” I laughed shyly.

“I’m gonna hit the shower before heading to your folks’ place.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Joel.” I smiled softly and he rested his hand on my lower back as he brushed by me to create space between himself, me, and the kitchen island. Such a simple gesture, but the placement was new. Usually he’d touch my shoulder or ask me to step aside for him.

I tidied the magazines and newspapers littering the coffee table, dusting the surface with a cloth before I left, I debated on vacuuming but left the rest as is, I’m not his housekeeper. I’m not replacing Sarah. He’s grown, he can take care of it, surely. Before I had time to slip back into my flats, the water was already off and the bathroom door was opening. I turned away as I folded the throw blankets and Joel’s surprise at seeing me still in his house was obviously justified, “Dammit, you scared me!” he clutched his abdomen and sighed in relief, “What are you still doing here?” not angry, quizzical.

“I noticed some magazines all out of place, so I thought I’d do that. But then I saw dust, and then the blankets- sorry, Joel. I didn’t think you’d be so fast.” I let out a breathy laugh and turned to face him for just a moment before covering my eyes up again. He was only wearing a towel, water droplets decorating his toned frame, dripping from his soft, curly hair that’s been made slightly gray over the years.

He sighed, not in frustration. Just a sigh, “You don’t need to take care of me like this. I’m fine, Sweetheart. Really.”

“I know. I just. This house is so special to me. I practically grew up here.” I looked to the location of the coffee table and could practically see Sarah and I grunting to move it aside and lay a million blankets and pillows out on the floor for our sleepovers. Popcorn kernels and candy all over the floor, empty box of pizza that Joel would have helped us scarf down before disappearing into the backyard or the master bedroom to leave us alone for the remainder of the evening. He never lingered too long, never tried to be the cool dad. Knew when it was time to leave his daughter and her friends alone.

His tone was even softer now, “It is a pretty special place, huh? Your Daddy helped me build it from the ground up. Pouring that concrete, framing up the walls. Drywall, mudding, installing. This house was the best job I’ve ever done for my family. Promised so much.” I knew he was reminiscing about his wife who had passed away more than a decade ago. The way he looked so far away even though he was right there.

I dared to continue to keep my eyes on him despite his attire, “I miss her, too.” I said suddenly, his eyes flitted to mine and he smiled weakly.

“Why don’t you head on home, Dollface? I saw all the bags you still have to unpack over there in your car.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting his towel to ensure it was secure enough.

My mouth ran dry at the sight of him, I felt so guilty for it after such a tender moment, “Sure. Enjoy your groceries, Joel.” I smirked and slipped into my shoes, letting myself out and backing from his driveway into mine. Perks of being across the street.

My parents had yet to return, so I quickly unloaded and prepped the snacks into serving trays and bowls, put the booze on ice in coolers and began dragging everything to the backyard, filling the picnic table by the pool with things to eat, cooler resting on the ground beside everything else.

I made myself busy getting ready, slipping from my work clothes to a black bikini covered by shorts and a plain off-shoulder long sleeve shirt. The sun would set soon, dropping the scorching temperature. I added a soft lipstick and touched up my makeup, keeping my hair down. By the time I finished I could hear the familiar bustle of my folks in the kitchen, prepping for the grill and salads.

I offered a hand in the kitchen, as typical and my mother handed me a large knife, “Quarter the cucumber and dice some tomato for the salad, please.” she instructed as my father poured seasonings into a dish of various cuts of chicken.

I set to work, “I dropped that stuff off for Joel, Dad.” I started, and he hummed in response as a thank you.

“Thanks, baby.” he said as he massaged the seasonings into the meat, “He just needs a little hand for now is all, I’m sure in a few weeks when the busy season is over he’ll be right. Maybe it can be a regular thing, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. I miss being there all the time, anyway. Such sweet memories from growing up in that house.” I mused, the rhythmic chopping on the cutting board in front of me keeping me at a steady pace.

“How is Sarah, anyway? Talk to her lately?”

“Fine, she likes her new job, dating around a little. Nothing major aside from roommate drama. She doesn’t like apartment life.”

“Not like being roommates in the dorms with you, huh?”

I scoffed softly, “Evidently not.”

The small talk continued until we opened the front door for our neighbors and Joel was first over, as typical. He and my father sat poolside in lounge chairs, beer in hand laughing and talking like usual until others joined them.

I found myself watching him from the window above the sink as I scrubbed at the dishes left behind, watching his dimpled cheek when he smiled, the curve of his mouth around the glass bottle, how he would scratch at the stubble on his cheeks when thinking. I could see their bottles were nearly empty, so I finished scrubbing a pan and headed to the yard, opening a cooler and grabbing three bottles, two for the men, one for me. I cracked mine first and took a swig, then cracked the other two and brought them over, “Noticed you guys were looking a little low.” I eyed Joel instead of my father.

“Why, thank you, Dollface.” Joel smirked and held the drink up in a cheers motion, “What a sweet girl you have, Jimmy. Always looking out for the guests.”

“She learned hosting from her Mama, Joel. Certainly not me.” my dad quipped, nodding a thanks to me as I handed them each a bottle.

I felt a blush creep up with how Joel was examining me, and I wondered if that was the same way I was watching him earlier. He took the bottle from my hand and pushed further, “While you’re being so gracious, can you get me a little snack while we wait for the others to get here? Feelin’ a little peckish.”

I smirked and faked an annoyed eye roll, “Yes, sir. Welcome to my restaurant. What would you like?”

Joel laughed at that, “Surprise me.”

I made my way to the snack table and loaded a small plate with cheese, crackers, meats, and cold veggies, bringing it back to the familiar man, “Careful, there’s poison somewhere in there.” I joked and his smile broadened.

“Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, Old Man.” I quipped back before returning inside to clean up the rest of the mess and my father laughed.

Before it was fully dark outside our backyard was full of people. I made light of the event, socializing, recapping the last four years of my time away with neighbors. I kept nursing drink after drink to help my nerves keep calm, my social meter tapped out by around ten p.m with hours left to go.

I stepped inside and retreated to the bathroom to get just a single moment where I didn’t have to talk to anybody, the harsh lighting burning my blurred eyes after spending hours in the soft lighting of the backyard.

I splashed a little water on my face and when I opened the door I gasped to see Joel standing there, “Oh, sorry, Sweetheart.” his eyes burned the same color as mine, lids heavy with drink.

“It’s fine, Joel.” I nearly pushed by him but his smirk stopped me.

“I’m not Old Man anymore?” he towered over me, and this close I had to look up to meet his eyes.

“Oh, you’re still old.” I giggled, the quiet of the house was a complete contrast to the music coming from outside. The rest of the party dancing, socializing, drinking.

He hummed in response and set his hand on my waist, looking into the bathroom, “You done in here or can I take a piss, Gorgeous?”

I flushed instantly, “Sorry, sir.” and stepped aside.

His eyebrows raised softly “So tense with me. Almost like-”

“Almost like what?” my heart began drumming inside of my chest.

“Nah, nothing.”

I pushed by him and let him in, closing the door behind me with a “You need to fix my closet next week, Joel.”

“Anything for you, Babygirl.” he called from behind the closed door and I felt myself melting inside.

“Promise?” I giggled, pushing the boundary thanks to the mixed drinks in my blood.

Silence for a few moments, running water, and then the opening of the door, something had changed in his eyes in the few moments from behind the barricade of the door. “Of course, Sweetheart. Anything.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat and felt my eyes close softly unconsciously. I snapped them back open, feigning off embarrassment.

“You’ve been acting strange since you moved back home. Everything okay?” he sounded concerned.

“Fine. It’s-” I almost admitted it was him. I shut my mouth before I could say anything sober me would regret.

His full lips tipped up into a half-smirk, “It’s. It’s. It’s-” a pause, he wanted me to continue, “Spit it out, Doll. What’s bothering my girl?” his tone was the same as it always was when I was needing advice growing up, but his eyes were darkened.

“You.” I whispered so quietly I wasn’t even sure I said it or if I just thought it.

“Me?” he said after a long pause, furrowing his brows.

“It’s- Nevermind. So stupid of me.” I turned on my heel and started away from him, but he grabbed my wrist carefully to stop me.

“You’re not stupid.” his eyes held promise. Safety.

“If I say what’s on my mind you’ll change your mind, Mr. Miller.” I felt smaller than a mouse at that moment. The liquid courage pushed me on as he continued to press.

“I promise. Nothing you say could ever change my mind.”

“I’ve been acting weird because of you.” his hand was still gripping my wrist and his hand tightened for a fraction of a second, my skin burned deliciously at his touch.

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked cautiously.

“The opposite.” my voice was still a whisper, and his was dropping now, too. Reading that this was a conversation better kept private.

He hummed again, “Do you-”

“Since I was a teenager I’ve had a crush on you. The older I get the more I can read you. The older I get the more I-... The more I cannot think about anything else but how it would feel to-” I stopped. Stupid. “Stupid.”

“No.” he shook his head, “I’ve been watching you the last few months.” he admitted, “You’re not a little girl anymore. Far from it. A gorgeous woman. You’re not stupid for thinking, but it could cause issues.” his eyes held concern.

“With Sarah.”

“And your old man.” he finished my thought.

“You-you feel it, too?”

He nodded once, a silent reply.

I stared at his lips suddenly. Then his eyes. Feeling my reserve crumbling around me, hoping his was, too. I turned my figure more toward him and he pressed his spare hand, still damp from washing into the small of my back, still gripping my wrist with his free hand. “Are you going to kiss me, Joel?” the silent, darkened hall and our hushed voices would raise alarm for anyone within earshot. Thank God we were the only ones in the house.

He didn’t answer with words, but let my wrist go and cupped my jaw in his hand, pressing me against his toned body, hands all rough from his job. Hesitantly, slowly he was leaning down to my level before his breath hit my lips and he stopped. Knitting his brows together, biting down on his bottom lip. He was fighting a war in himself, one that he was going to lose. “Please, if you’re going to kiss me… Please. I’m begging.” I shot my eyes back to his as my whimpered plea ran out of my mouth like a track star and he was pressing his lips against mine in no time at all.

Soft, tangy with beer. Electric. Everything I had ever dreamed of. I gasped as my senses were overloaded with him, and he wrapped his arm around me tighter, his grip on my jaw was iron. I placed my hands on his chest and he mistook it for pushing him away, “God, I-I’m so sorry-” he started, but kept his hands in their places.

“No. I’ve waited ten years for this moment.” I admitted, looking up at him through my lashes, “please don’t be sorry.”

He reconnected his lips to mine, taking advantage of the still quiet house before pulling me into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

I leaned my back against the counter and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, he was feverish. The way he clung to my hips in desperation, licking into my mouth at the added privacy of the bathroom. I allowed him access, moaning softly against his tongue, curling my fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck. He tasted like heaven. He pulled away again, and his eyes were almost deranged looking with a mix of emotions, “Fuck, we could get in trouble.” he whispered.

I felt wetness pooling into the bottoms of my bikini at the sight of him panting, flustered, red. The prospect of getting caught wasn’t going to deter me, though. Not right now, at least, I dropped to my knees in front of him and quickly undid his belt, “What are you doing, baby?” he cooed, running a hand through my hair.

“I’ll be fast.” I promised, looking up at him with doe eyes. I’d never seen him from this angle before, I figured if we were already in trouble I may as well make my fantasy come true.

He didn’t object, but nodded and let a shaky breath escape his parted lips as I made quick work of his button and fly, he shimmied his jeans off of his hips and let the dense fabric fall to his ankles, I gawked at his bulge for just a moment, gasping at the size and girth presented to me at eye level. I trailed kisses up his thighs, over the fabric of his briefs and along the bony ridges of his hips, “Please, Sweetheart. Hurry before we get in trouble.”

I pulled his hardened member from the top of his briefs and quickly sunk my mouth down around him, no teasing. No taking time. I took him as far as I could before the threat of gagging sprung on me, wetting him with my tongue.

“Nngh-Fuck. You’re not so innocent as you look, huh?” he grunted softly, his voice strained, bracing himself on the ledge of the counter behind me with his hands.

I hummed around him and he bucked his hips further down my throat, saliva dripping down my chin from the sudden movement. He pulled me off of his length by my hair and cupped my face in his hands, my mouth chased his throbbing cock as he removed me, “Joel, I just want to make you feel good.”

He nodded in response, closing his eyes to try to gain composure, “You are.” he whispered, pulling me up to stand by my hands, working at the button on my shorts, yanking them down and turning me around so I was facing the vanity mirror, hands roaming around underneath my sweatshirt, grasping my breasts while I stared at the two of us in the mirror.

“Fuck…” I whispered, looking at our crazy expressions. Lust-filled eyes, swollen lips, red cheeks.

“You’re beautiful.” he whispered, dipping his hand into my bikini bottoms, feeling my wetness while watching us in the mirror, keeping, “So wet for me.” he whispered against my neck, kissing softly.

I whimpered at the contact he made with my clit suddenly, and rolled my hips against his hand for relief, he pulled his finger away and licked my slick away, he groaned softly, “You taste like Heaven.” he bit my shoulder playfully and whispered against my skin, “You want me to fuck you? Right here, while the entire block is just outside?”

My legs trembled at the image that flashed in my mind, and I nodded quickly.

“Use your words, Sweetheart. I need to hear you.” his hands traveled the curve of my thighs and ass, squeezing the plush flesh.

“Yes, Joel. I want you to fuck me while everybody is just outside. While it’s so easy for us to get caught, I want you to fuck me so good I can’t even remember my own name after.”

“Good girl.” he untied the rest of my bathing suit and let it drop, fully exposing my lower-half to him. Both of us were only wearing our shirts now, he trailed his fingers delicately over my skin and kept his voice low. “You have to be silent, baby. Silent.” his eyes showed concern, “Be a good girl for me and nod that you understand. Show me how silent you can be.”

I nodded once in confirmation, clenching around nothing aside from the prospect of being filled up by Joel Miller.

He kept his eyes on my face from the mirror as he pumped his hand up and down his cock a few times, readying himself for me, running the tip along my slick and pushing the tip in. “You’re so goddamn tight,” he cooed and my eyes rolled back at trying to suppress a noise that threatened to erupt from the depths of my soul at him splitting me open for him, slowly easing in centimeter by centimeter. Too tight for him not to savor the feeling of me throbbing around him.

“Joel.” I whispered, hardly audible.

“Silent.” he warned, a crazed look in his eye as he stilled his movements.

I nodded, and he wasted no more time stretching me slowly along his cock, he pushed in hard and fast the rest of the way. Watching me fall apart and lean against the counter for support.

I opened my mouth and forced myself to make no sound, grinding my hips back against his as he panted softly, stilling when he filled me to the hilt, “So good, baby. Such a good girl.” he gripped my hips hard and picked up a slow rhythm, filling me and then retreating fully. Teasing that delicate spot so deep inside my own fingers can never reach.

I whimpered softly, hardly a sound at all and he snapped his hips against my ass, “So pretty like this. Staring at yourself getting fucked by your father’s best friend. So obedient and quiet for me.” he watched us in the mirror, my face red from suppressing myself. Knuckles white against the edge of the counter.

His hand snaked around my hip to my stomach, trailing down until he found my clit, rubbing deliciously slow circles around the sensitive bud.

I couldn’t help it, the feeling of being full to the brim and the added pleasure from the sensitive spot forced me to release a moan of pure bliss, “That’s so good.” I let out, and he clamped his other hand over my mouth, shaking his head quickly and pulling out of me.

“On the floor, lay down.” he pointed to the floor and I laid on my back, he fit himself between my knees and covered my mouth again, using his other arm to support his weight above me. “Silent. This is your last warning.”

I nodded, eyes wide, boring into his serious, caramel colored irises.

He snapped his hips to mine, this new angle filling me even better, and his pace was fast, desperate, hard. He never took his hand off of my mouth the entire time he whispered praises against my neck while he bit, kissed and licked my tingling skin.

I stayed silent for him, taking in his hushed praises through heavy lids and flushed skin, My breathing hitched as I felt the waves of my orgasm begin to ripple through me.

“Cum for me, Sweetheart. I want to feel how good my cock is to you.” he pressed his hand down more firmly, a reminder of my task. Silence.

My eyes rolled back sharply as I arched into him, clenching desperately as his cock, breathing labored as my nails clutched into his hips, leaving small crescent shaped marks in his skin.

“Good girl. Good girl. Look how pretty you are when you fall apart for me.” he bit his lip as he continued his pace, riding out my high while chasing his own, and I held my breath against his hand.

It wasn’t long after mine that he began to crumble, his pace faltering, his breaths ragged as he ground his hips against mine slower and slower. Softer and softer. He pulled himself out of my throbbing pussy and let his warmth burst out over my thigh.

Finally removing his hand from my mouth I clutched the fabric of his shirt desperately, pressing his lips to mine. He grunted against my lips; a satisfied, unconscious noise. When he pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine, I could only imagine the expression I was making for him. Fucked out, touched out, desperate to take him again. Properly, not on the bathroom floor while a party raged on around us outside.

As if having the same thought, he cleaned me up with a washcloth from the linen closet and slipped into his jeans, buckling the belt. “Go to your room and wait a few minutes. Don’t wanna look suspicious.” he shrugged.

“Right.” I nodded, scrambling for my shorts and grabbing the bikini bottoms from the floor, only bothering to put the shorts on before pushing the door open and hurrying to the stairwell.

“Wait.” Joel’s voice was a harsh whisper, and I turned to face him, “Let’s do this properly next time.” He suggested, “Not in a bathroom.”

I nodded once before running up the steps, feeling empty now that he wasn’t buried inside of me but knew time was of the essence right now. I figured I’d make up some excuse about being clumsy and spilling a drink or food on my outfit and that’s what took me so long inside, fabricating a lie I’d hold onto forever if I had to. Ensuring that nobody would ever find out about the questionable dynamic of Joel and my now extremely complicated relationship.

When I returned outside around ten minutes later, I was thankful nobody batted an eye. Nobody missed me, and Joel was making himself busy at the snack table, popping a pretzel in his mouth and chewing with a knowing, cocky smile on his face.

“There’s my girl.” my dad’s voice cut through the yard and I snapped my attention to him before I could fall apart looking into the eyes of his best friend.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #female reader #tlou fanfiction #dads best friend

139 notes · View notes

dameronscopilot · 1 year

Text

Taking Flight

Poe Dameron x f!reader

Summary: In which you and the handsome aviation technician that strolls into your coffee shop most mornings finally get the nudge you both need with the help of an aptly placed sprig of mistletoe.

Word Count: 1.5k

Content: modern au, fluff, first kiss

Prompt: Mistletoe + dialogue prompt

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

The lively, pleasant chords of holiday music trickle throughout the café, the interior of which is currently lit by the soft glow of brightly colored lights strung up amongst an array of seasonal décor. Groups of people mill about, talking animatedly over hot drinks and browsing the selection of books for sale on the shelves set along the back wall. You smile to yourself as you wipe a spot of powdered sugar off of the countertop before leaning against it.

You’d spent the past week handing out flyers to customers, inviting them to drop by the shop for an evening of free hot cider and half-off pastries. In turn, you’ll be donating a portion of all proceeds from book sales during the event to a local animal shelter. Though you initially wondered if you’d doomed the turnout by scheduling the event just days before Christmas, the store is thankfully teeming with regular and new customers alike, though one familiar face is nowhere to be found.

At the feeling of something brushing up against your leg, you bend down to scratch the ears of the large orange cat at your feet.

“I don’t think he’s coming, Bee,” you sigh, and the feline offers up an unimpressed noise in response as she stalks off, likely to wage war with the tinsel hanging in the front window display again.

He, being Poe Dameron. A man with a smile as devastatingly warm as his laugh. While you’ll never outright admit to picking a favorite customer, he holds the title by a landslide

Several early mornings on any given week will find Poe striding into the shop with a grin that you like to imagine is reserved just for you, boots scuffing against the floor as he makes his way over to the register. Donning the leather jacket that you hardly ever see him without and a pair of sunglasses slung over the silver chain around his neck, the aviation technician will run a hand through his dark curls before pulling out his wallet. You’ll normally already have his coffee ready by the time he’s begun twisting his credit card between his fingers, if only because you’re not confident in your ability to actually pour the hot liquid successfully while he makes casual small talk with you from the other side of the counter.

When Poe arrives, Bee usually makes an attempt to steal his attention, butting up against his ankles, tail curling around his leg while he asks how business is, remarks on the weather, and talks to you about the planes he’s working on that week. Meanwhile, when you gesture toward the day’s assortment of pastries, he’ll shrug good-naturedly as he tells you to pick out whatever you think he’ll like. As if the question doesn't send you into an absolute spiral each and every time.

After months upon months of these interactions, you’re certain he’s just naturally this friendly with everyone, but you can’t help the way you fall a little bit more in love with the man each and every time the tinkling of the bell above the shop door is accompanied by the familiar scent of engine oil— something you’ve fondly come to associate with him.

Thinking too hard about the way his nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle when he smiles sends a tide of longing unfurling in your chest, one that’s becoming more and more difficult to contain.

When you finally worked up the nerve to invite Poe just moments after he’d turned to leave one morning with his coffee in hand, you’d called out for him, brandishing one of the small flyers for the event. He'd looked pleased as he scanned the paper and told you he'd do his best to drop by.

“Can’t wait!”—you were still banging your head against a figurative wall for what you’d chirped back in response, the eagerness that your tone had been brimming with, your complete and total unawareness in the moment of the fact that he was likely just being nice. The insinuation that you'd be leaning against the register all evening, gazing at the door waiting for him to waltz in.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you jump at the sound of a voice beside you—

“Hey. Decent turnout.”

Warmth blooms in your chest as you turn your head to find Poe standing there, arms crossed as he surveys the bustle of people filling out most of the tables and chairs throughout the room. Snowflakes still linger in his hair, and the tip of his nose is red from the cold.

“You came,” you remark dumbly, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

Poe unfolds his arms, and you spy a flash of something wrapped in gold paper clutched in his left hand as he lets them fall to his sides. “Of course I did. I couldn’t say no to the hot cider,” he winks.

You snort as you make your way behind the counter to pour him a cup. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you order something that doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

“Coffee is just for the morning so I’m awake enough to make sure those planes get up in the air in one piece,” he chuckles.

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to stop in after work once in a while then. I’ve been told I make a mean peppermint hot chocolate.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Your face heats up at his words, and you fiddle with your apron in an attempt to find anything to do to busy your fingers, the ones that ache to reach out and see just how soft his curls really are. Before you can mull too hard over how many seconds of silence have passed between the two of you as you attempt to come up with a witty response, something gold flashes in front of you. You turn your focus to Poe’s outstretched hands, which are holding a thin, rectangular package.

“For me?”

He places it in your own hands and nods.

“But I didn’t get you anything,” you argue, mind racing as you wonder what could possibly be waiting for you underneath the wrapping paper.

“Just open it,” he patiently encourages you, voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You carefully peel open the gift and find a small, worn, leather-bound book, eyes quickly spotting where 'Dameron' is written across the front of it in the bottom right corner. Raising an eyebrow, you shoot a confused look in Poe’s direction, but he simply tips his chin at you, urging you to look inside.

As your fingers untie the thin leather straps wrapped around the book, Poe’s shoulder brushes against yours when he comes to stand closer to you. It’s a journal. The lined, off-white pages are full of ink, and it takes you a few moments of flipping through them to realize that it’s more than that—it's a handwritten glossary of aviation terms and other related notes.

Poe clears his throat. “That’s the journal I used when I started studying to get my pilot’s license.”

There’s a fluttering caress of emotion that sends your insides careening at the admission as you carefully run a finger over one of the pages, eyes scanning the notes left in the margins and the hastily drawn diagrams. Early on, Poe had explained to you that although he works on planes for a living, he also flies in his free time as a hobby.

He continues, scratching the back of his head, “I hope it’s not too, uh, presumptuous of me. But you always seem so interested in the planes I work on, I thought maybe I could take you out for a ride sometime.” Tapping a finger against the page the book is opened to, he adds, “And I know how much you like researching things, so I figured you might want to study a little first or something.”

You’re at a loss for words, heart fit to burst out of your chest at the gesture, at the hopeful look on his face, at the fact that perhaps he might look forward to seeing you every morning just as much as you look forward to seeing him.

When you don’t say anything back, Poe hastily adds, “You don’t have to say ye—”

“I’d love to, Poe.”

The lines of worry creeping across his face quickly smooth out as he flashes his teeth in a smile that leaves your knees weak, eyes shining. And as if you weren’t already caught off guard, he leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Your lips fall open slightly, and he looks slightly sheepish as he points above you. “Mistletoe.”

Fuelled by the hope that you’re not reading into all of this terribly wrong, you finally offer Poe Dameron a smooth response of your own for once. “If you wanted to kiss me you could have just said so. You didn’t need to wait until we were under the mistletoe.”

Poe turns to you fully, carefully taking the book from your hands and placing it on the counter. There’s determination and resolve in his gaze as his eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head to the side, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.

“In that case…” he murmurs.

Poe cups your face in his hands, the cool press of his palms a balm against your hot skin, and your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his touch. And when he slots his mouth against yours, kissing you gently with lips that taste of apples and spices, a soft sound escapes you as you press in closer.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» POE DAMERON MASTERLIST » OSCAR ISAAC MASTERLIST

#deck the halls with dameronscopilot #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #dee writes

283 notes · View notes