#even the spilled milk just made me laugh

[chussyracing]

With Hadjar and Perez penalties, I think I mastered the art of manifestations. Let me try something for tomorrow real quick 🤭

[teddybeartoji]

“look at me, hm?”

toji's voice is barely above a whisper, his words softer than ever. with his hands circled around your middle, he stands there behind you, his chest glued against your back like a big bear. his heavy head rests on your shoulder, eyes locked onto yours in a quiet plea. you think you hear a pout in his tone. 

but you don’t give him a reaction, gaze locked onto the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

you’re upset with him and toji feels like he's dying.

all of this just because you're jealous.

because the love of his life is jealous. 

toji only spared her a glance, brushing her off and saying that his partner is waiting for him – she’s the one that went on and on, talking about the milk carton in his hands as if toji had never seen it before. but little do you know, every single word that spilled from the stranger, went in one ear and right out the other – toji couldn’t be less interested in anybody other than you. if you were to crack open his head and take a look around, it’d be all you. you and your laugh, you and your eyes, you and your hands, you and your hobbies. you and you and you. even when he was standing there with the milk carton in his hand, the only thing on his mind was how he’s going to watch you chomp down a big bowl of cereal the next morning. 

you just happened to see the moment the woman leaned closer with a charming smile on her lips and her hand on his forearm while saying her goodbye, and that was enough for the ugly thoughts to bully themselves into your head.

even though you trust toji, you know he doesn’t entertain any flirting attempts that might come his way, but sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help but feel that you might not be enough. what if he did think the woman was more beautiful, or maybe he did find the guy, who asked for his help at the gym the other day, hot? what if he found them more interesting than you, what if he feels himself stuck to you against his will? 

you heard your own words swimming around in your head and cringed at yourself, ashamed that you were letting that weird growth of jealousy torment you.

but it had already taken root. 

that evil, ugly little thing in the back of your mind. and you couldn’t shake it.

not on your own at least. 

toji had made his way over to you, taking his place by your side while squinting at the little piece of paper in his hands. but you were quiet, more so than usual, and toji isn’t stupid – he might not be the best with feelings and emotions, but he does know you. 

he could tell just by the way you avoided his gaze, the way you started to shorten your answers. the way you pulled away and into yourself – he watched you disappear into your own head right in front of his eyes and he hated it. 

but not wanting to push any wrong buttons here in public, he swallowed your silence with a heavy heart and guided you to your car with a hand on your lower back. he’s not as afraid as he used to be – he isn’t as scared to step into your space, now knowing that this is just what you need sometimes. a little push, a little nudge, to break free from the vines of envy and jealousy and doubt. he’ll burn them, he’ll cut you free. 

the car ride home was quiet. with your head rested against the window and eyes set on the passing buildings and cars, toji found himself stealing glances at you every chance he got. oh, how he hated the pout on your lips, the very same one you’re wearing now. all he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and kiss you, hold you. to make you laugh. to make you forget every single thing that has ever bothered you.

toji let you simmer for exactly ten minutes, just enough for you to change into your pyjamas and to wash up before deciding on your distraction – the dishes. he snuck up on you as silently as he could; the tips of his fingers itched to feel your skin under them, his ears tired from the silence in the apartment. the sigh that you let out as he pressed himself flush against you, sounded better than anything before. toji had already started to miss you in those twenty minutes you were away from him. 

“please… “

it’s not often you get to hear that word, especially in that tone, so it’s hard for you to ignore the stuttering of your poor, sensitive heart. his nose nudges against your cheek and you put down the knife to lean into him on instinct; with your hands on top of his, your bodies mold together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“you know you’re the only one for me…” 

the words form in the back of his mouth and roll from his tongue like a low purr. they’re coated in something sweet, in something only you get to see and feel. his arms tighten around you and you know he means it. his heart beats against your back, as nervous as it is confident. he’s sure about his statement but a part of him is still scared that you won’t have him. that you’ll leave him. 

“she talked about the milk, that’s all she did, sweetheart.” gently, he sways your bodies side to side, letting the warmth of his body engulf you as he ropes you back to him.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“do you believe me?”

it’s something you’ve been practicing in order to get rid of any remaining specks of doubt. it goes both ways; he trusts that you’ll say what’s on your mind and you do the same. 

honesty. 

raw and real.

“yes.”

toji lets out a little puff of air through his nostrils, a wave of relief settling into his body. he knows it’s not over just yet, but it’s a start.

“can i kiss you?”

toji’s mossy green eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like forever and all he can think about is how much you mean to him. his darling, his baby. he’s not one to be a sap, but hell, when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to drop to his knees and recite love poems for you if that’s what you’d like. anything and everything. 

he watches your eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up again and the little nod you give him is more than enough for him to finally press his lips to yours in a needy, hungry kiss. you melt into each other – skin against skin, tongue against tongue, it just feels right. the spark between you is still there, burning brighter than ever after all the time you’ve spent together. over hills and mountains, through lakes and rivers – nothing is too much or too little for the two of you to conquer together. he’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for him. 

“‘m all yours, sweetheart.”

his hushed words slip right between your lips and slither their way down your throat. inside, they bloom and they flourish. they overtake the rotting weeds that were growing there before and you feel it. you feel it happen. he breathes into you and you become alive again.

"i love you."

[inthedarknessofnight]

Thinking about struggling musician Eddie who makes a living singing and playing guitar in a Metallica tribute band.

Thinking about bartender Steve who thinks tribute bands are the cringiest, most insufferable things to ever exist.

Thinking about Robin, his coworker, who made a bet on the very first day of their new job that Steve would eventually hook up with someone from a tribute band.

And the thing is, he almost makes it. Three years and he’s got a completely clean track record. Well, at least until the night some random Metallica cover band’s frontman has Steve questioning his sanity from the moment he sets foot on stage. Because Steve is mesmerized. By the way his lithe figure moves under the bright stage lights. By the way his fingers slide deftly along the neck of his guitar. By the way his voice permeates the room, filling the air to the point where Steve thinks he must be breathing the music into his lungs. And then, the motherfucker has the audacity to take off shirt his mid-performance, putting on display a well-curated collection of tattoos. Steve feels like an ancient deity has descended from the heavens and decided to play fucking Metallica, on a fucking Tuesday, in the shittiest fucking bar in all of Inianapolis. Well and truly distracted by the action on stage, Steve doesn’t register the glass slipping slowly out of his grasp, until the damn thing has hit the floor and broken into a thousand pieces. When he turns to examine the mess, Robin is already there, broom in hand.

“You might wanna think about closing that mouth, dingus. I don’t think you drooling all over this pristine countertop is good for business,” she says with barely contained laughter, quickly sweeping the shards into the dustpan.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he retorts, rolling his eyes, suddenly very aware of just how much he was staring. Instinctively, Steve shakes his hand to drive away the haze, grabs a new glass, and tries his best to focus on the task at hand.

It isn’t until the final number of the evening that Steve’s resolve truly crumbles. He’s all but managed to tune out the goings-on around him, which is why he nearly has a heart attack when he suddenly finds himself face to face with the beam coming straight from the main spotlight.

“Can we- Yes. Perfect. There he is,” says a low voice coming from the very center of the stage, followed by a cacophony of loud cheers.

And… Oh no.

“What the-,” he mutters, a hand flying up to shield his eyes from the blinding light. That’s when he sees him.

“Hey, pretty boy behind the bar. Get me some whiskey up here on this stage, will you?”

And Steve is so so so incredibly fucked.

He stares dumbly for a few seconds. Having seemingly lost any and all ability to think independently, Steve brain shifts into autopilot, causing him to grab the full bottle of Jack sitting on the shelf behind him, stroll towards the stage as if possessed, accompanied by the sound of cheering, which only grows louder with every step he takes. He climbs the steps leading onto the stage. As soon as he reaches the top, he finds himself face to face with…

He’s so close. For a brief moment, Steve wonders if he knew prior to this moment that a person can be this beautiful. They’re chest to chest. The guy is ducking his head to whisper something to Steve, his breath hitting the sensitive spot just below the ear as he does so.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, his like voice smoke, and milk, and honey, and all things Steve wants to breathe in, and drink, and savor. He plucks the bottle from Steve’s hand, ringed fingers grazing his.

He winks at Steve as he takes a few steps backwards, a devilish smile playing on his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tips his head back, opens his mouth, and begins pouring the amber liquid until it spills over he edges, running down his neck and the length of his torso. After what feels like hours to Steve, the guy finally swallows the remnants of the drinking in his mouth, immediately leveling Steve with a dark gaze.

“Now you.”

Positively transfixed, Steve realizes a little too late that he has, in fact, missed his window to flee, and is headed head-first for whatever public humiliation the guy has in store for him. A strong, sure hand grips the back of his neck, long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape, tugging ever so slightly.

“Open.”

It’s not gentle. It’s a thing of lust. A command. Steve feels it in his bones. And he can’t look away. His body is not his own when he gives into the pull of the musician’s hand, his jaw going lax, mouth automatically falling open. The guy brings the bottle up to Steve’s mouth, pouring in a generous amount. Before Steve even gets the chance to swallow the liquid already burning its way down his throat, the bottle is being shoved rougly into his hand, the guy bringing his other hand up once again, only to press the palm under Steve’s chin, forcing his mouth closed. Forcing him to swallow. Steve nearly chokes.

“Good boy,” he says with a wicked grin, before pushing a spluttering, coughing Steve back in the direction of the stairs, causing him to nearly topple off the stage. The guy laughs maniacally into his microphone and the crowd goes wild, the drummer already counting them into the final song.

Still bewildered and absolutely dumbfounded by whatever just happened to him on that stage, Steve chances one last glance in the singer’s direction as he descends the stairs.

This time, however, he isn’t met with a sultry, dark look, or one of the guy’s infamous mischievous grins. Instead, he finds a pair of soft brown eyes staring back at him, and plush pink lips curved into the dopiest, most endearing smile Steve has ever seen.

…

By the end of the night, Steve has found the love of his life and Robin is collecting money from nearly every employee at the bar, sporting a smug, I-told-you-so expression on her face.

[minghaosbow]

cockwarming with vernon?

𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸��𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗼𝗻

“stop fuckin’ moving.”

vernon slapped your ass as your jumped a little. his dick 8 inch deep inside you as you facing infront of him, watching him play a video game, you can’t even be mad as this was your idea, wanting to cockwarm him to see which one would last the longest.

you felt so dizzy just from his thick cock in you @_@ !! how was it your fault his dick just was making you drool just from sitting.

“vernon.. this is so hard to do this..” you mumble, your hand gripping this pant leg just to not tempt yourself to not move.

“baby.. this is what your idea right? good girls do what they need to do.” he smirked, fuck. he was so cocky it made you almost pissed off, rolling your eyes.

10 minutes later, still not moved as your literally on your last straw, so close to not give in as you bit your soft lip to not make any noise. your pussy was so wet and dripping down to his mid thighs >_< !!

“vernon- i can’t..” you whine, seeing him ignoring you on purpose with that fucking smirk.

you did it, you couldn’t help it when he did that smirk of his:( you suddenly rode back and forth in a speed you couldn’t even explain. vernon knew you would give in as he moved his controller out of the way and layed back on the gaming chair, grabbing your cheek to make you face him.

“cmon, fuck your self on my cock, dont fucking look away.” vernon groaned, making eye contact with you.

it was intense, making eye contact as your milked his cock very fastly, your moans were angelic to him. tears filling up at the corner of your eyes as your lios quiver with each thrust.

“your such a fucking slut, huh? couldn’t even last a fucking hour not moving but you’re too cock obsessed isnt that right?” vernon gave a stern look as you couldn’t even answer, his dick making you dumb you couldn’t even answer until he moved his hips up towards you to make a reaction, of course you almost screamed when he did that, his tip hitting your gspot even worst now as you slide your hand on his shoulder to maintain balance.

“i- ahh— fuck.. asked a question? answer, who’s the cock obsessed girl?” vernon raised an eyebrow, knowing you’re close to an orgasm.

“m-me! i am— fucking obsessed w-with- ahh! your cock vernon! ohmygodimgonnacumohmygod-“ you spoke very fast after that, your orgasm hitting a home run as he laughed at you, moaning with you and even whimpering. he was so obsessed with how you were dedicated to cum.

“cmon, cum with me. you can do that? cum with me babydoll..” he mumbled, guiding your hips to your high.

you felt your high, arching your back as you felt it and your legs closing shut. he came inside you, good thing you were on the pill because he filled you to the brim, his hot cum spilling out as he didn’t even pull out, letting it run down both of your guys thighs as you look up, both laughing as you stared with a look of love and lust.

“so.. got any more ideas?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

(if you guys have any requests please send it!! <3)

[inkskinned]

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

[cookiekissers]

Mango plisplis I beg u in my knees nsfw wind archer shot or hcs please there’s not enough content of him pls i want to see how u write him plisplis 😢😢😢😢

🔥🔞 [Wind Archer x Reader NSFT]

Wind Archer my boy let's gooooooooooo also the premise for this one may be a little silly lmao but it's smut for smuts sake

The underground passageways were choked with darkness, filled with the sounds of something writhing and squelching just out of view. Things slunk in and out of the shadow just out of the corner of your eye, and you clung to Wind Archer Cookie's arm, feeling unease grip your dough.

You had joined Wind Archer Cookie in his mission to find the dark heart of Dark Enchantress' facility. On your end, your task was much simpler, mainly recon and stealing any sensitive documents to discover what the Cookies of Darkness' future plans were.

"We should split up from here." You suggested quietly. Wind Archer Cookie gave you a look of surprise. It was an unexpected proposition considering you were clinging to his arm. "That way we can find what we're both after and get out of here quickly." You added.

"Y/N Cookie, I can't let you go off by yourself. What if something happens and I'm not there?" Wind Archer Cookie said with a frown. You pulled away from Wind Archer with a small smile and unsheathed your ornate forest short sword.

"Don't worry about me, alright? I can handle myself." You reassure, sliding your sword back into its scabbard.

At least you would have been under normal circumstances. You massively underestimated the evil lurking within the depths of this cursed facility. Catching things moving from the corner of your eye as if someone was following you, shadows seemingly moving by themselves, and eyes watching your every movement.

You held your sword at the ready tensely as you snuck down the empty hall. A distinct laugh echoed from the darkness ahead, sending a wave of chills through your dough. Through the gloom, you could almost make out a faint silhouette of a Cookie...

Wind Archer Cookie slid out of the slimy drain pipe into the welcoming embrace of nature that surrounded the Laboratorium. In his haste to escape, he had completely forgotten that you were still inside the facility. Despite his exhaustion and injuries, he had to go back in to rescue you as he sensed something was terribly wrong.

Wind Archer Cookie panted and collected himself, but before he could take a step towards the Laboratorium, the snapping of a twig made him whip around and reflexively draw his bow. You stumbled out of the undergrowth and collapsed, your forest short sword dropping with a heavy thud onto the mossy ground.

"Y/N Cookie!!" Wind Archer Cookie gasped, and withdrew his bow. He ran to your side and flipped you onto your back to check for injuries.

There was a flash of silver and Wind Archer forcefully caught your wrist before you could plunge a dagger into his chest. He grunted with effort as you fought with everything you had in you.

"Y/N Cookie, what are you doing?!" Wind Archer Cookie exclaimed as he struggled to keep you at bay. Your eyes were unnaturally bright blue, and the mark of the Beast of Deceit branded on your left eye.

"Did you think it would be that easy to escape, Greenski?" Shadow Milk Cookie's demented voice fell from your lips, making Wind Archer's jam run cold.

You suddenly gritted your teeth and arched your back as you fought the possession, you gasped and cried out. Wrestling with your own limbs like they were being controlled by invisible strings.

"Wind Archer Cookie, help me!!" You shouted. Wind Archer Cookie hesitated. He felt helpless as he struggled to control your flailing limbs and wrestle the knife from your hand. He couldn't use his arrows to purify you and risk harming you, and at this close range he didn't have even a moment to draw his bow.

"Do something!" You cried again, tears spilling from your eyes. You clutched desperately at the grassy floor, as you battled to keep a hold of your own mind.

"Aww no fair, its two against one!" Shadow Milk Cookie cackled in your head.

"Do it! Do it, Y/N Cookie! After you make that pesky Green Bean into a salad, you can come and be mine instead."

The tormenting laughter echoed in your head and it wasn't long before you couldn't tell reality from illusion anymore. You weren't able to see what you were doing clearly, Wind Archer Cookie's appearance swimming and shifting right before your eyes. All you could focus on was restraining your hand that clutched the knife that was aiming to stab the Cookie who was so precious to you.

Wind Archer Cookie grimaced as he finally knock the dagger from your hand and pinned your wrists to the forest floor. He had a way to heal and free you of the Beast's control, but it was unconventional and unseemly. He couldn't see another way out of this that didn't harm you.

Wind Archer Cookie would have to use his body to purify you.

"Don't worry, Y/N Cookie. I can help you. But... I need you to trust me." He murmured. "I will do everything in my power to free you from this Beast." Wind Archer Cookie promised firmly.

"I-I trust you. Do it!" You grunted.

Wind Archer Cookie gulped. Though he knew what he must do to save you, he still felt nervous. This was a difficult path he chose, one that he hoped that both of you wouldn't regret by the end.

Wind Archer Cookie leaned over you and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you gently and tenderly. His lips moved softly against yours, slowly, sweetly. Your eyelids flickered closed as you let yourself be swept away by the warmth of his touch. The familiar feeling of the forest and its life giving energy filled you, making you feel lighter for a brief moment. Wing Archer Cookie pulled away abruptly, leaving you gasping for breath. He gazed into you eyes intently, hoping it was enough to drive Shadow Milk Cookie from your mind.

You body twitched and your eyes snapped open.

"Ohh, how romantic! Greenie, you dog, kissing Y/N Cookie like that! Is there something you want to tell them?" Shadow Milk Cookie's voice taunted. Wind Archer Cookie recoiled slightly.

It hadn't been enough to release you from the Beast's grip.

Wind Archer Cookie knew that he must take much more drastic measures, though he wished it hadn't come to this. His heart ached when he saw the pain flash across your face and you were losing the battle to Shadow Milk Cookie's control, but he couldn't bring himself to hesitate now.

He roughly tugging your pants off, revealing your naked form.

"W-Wind Archer Cookie!" You stammered in surprise. Wind Archer Cookie ignored the heat rising in his cheeks.

"Please trust me, Y/N Cookie..." He pleaded in desperation. Your eyes widened as you realized what Wind Archer Cookie had to do. You face flushed but you nodded with determination.

"It's ok. Let's do it." You replied. Wind Archer Cookie gave you a weak smile gratefully as he bent low over you, pressing his lips to yours once more in a deep, passionate kiss. It was an oath, a promise that Wind Archer Cookie would protect you from this evil infesting your body. Your thighs trembled in anticipation as Wind Archer Cookie pulled down his pants while he kissed you with every ounce of passion he possessed.

He had always wanted to do this with you, but he wished your first time together didn't have to be under duress.

Wind Archer Cookie gently guided himself to your entrance, he kept his lips locked with yours to distract you, and took great care not to hurt you. A pinch of momentary pain made you gasp against the wind guardian's lips as he pushed inside you. You clenched tightly around him. Wind Archer Cookie pushed down onto the soft patch of earth beneath you, groaning deeply as you instinctively opened up underneath him until he was buried completely in your heat. You moaned quietly, letting out a small whimper. The sound sent shivers down his back.

Wind Archer gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he began thrusting slowly into you. Your legs trembled as you tried to get comfortable around him. You could already feel your core clenching as the pleasure began to build in your abdomen. Wind Archer Cookie watched as your face flushed, beads of sugar sweat beginning to form along your forehead. He bit back a moan, you felt so good. Your insides were hot and tight just like he had always imagined.

He began to move faster, his pace increasing with each thrust. You cried out and clutched onto the wind guardian's shoulders, your body trembled with pleasure and your legs automatically wrapped around Wind Archer's hips. The air was filled with the sound of your moaning and the lewd sounds of Wind Archer's hips slamming against you. You writhed beneath him as Wind Archer Cookie continued to pound into you relentlessly. You could barely breathe as the pleasure built faster and stronger. Suddenly, your eyes flew open, the invisible strings tied to you forcing you to jolt up and sink your teeth into the dough of Wind Archer Cookie's shoulder. He gasped.

"Hang in there, Y/N Cookie!" Wind Archer Cookie grunted. "Keep fighting the Beast!" He encouraged. Your jaws tightened as he drove deeper and deeper into you, biting him harder with every stroke. Wind Archer Cookie adjusted his position quickly, pinning you against the soil as he pistoned his cock into you faster and harder than before. The new position made you see stars as Wind Archer hit you in just the right place.

The wind guardian's breathing became ragged as he was approaching his limit. After one final thrust, he came undone inside of you, filling you to the brim with his warm seed. You cried out Wind Archer's name as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The knot in your stomach snapped, opening the floodgates, and the intense waves of pleasure crashed over you as an orgasm wracked your body. Wind Archer Cookie held you tightly as you both panted hard and came down from your highs.

With the throbbing of Wind Archer Cookie's cock inside you, you felt the purifying energy of the forest thrum within you. The hold that Shadow Milk Cookie had on you faded, and you felt a sense of peace wash over you now that your mind was finally calm. Wind Archer Cookie let go of you slowly, placing affectionate kisses along your forehead and neck as he slipped out of you, his cum dripping from your entrance.

"Y/N Cookie... are you alright?" Wind Archer asked worriedly. You looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Yeah... I'm ok. Better than ok, actually." You laughed quietly. Wind Archer Cookie avoided your eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry I let this happen. And... that we had to do this." He frowned, a look of shame crossing his face. You quickly cupped Wind Archer Cookie's face in your hands reassuringly.

"No, no, it's ok, really!" You insisted. "Honestly, do you think we could... go for another round?" You requested shyly. The wind guardian's eyes widened and his face almost went entirely red.

"Y/N Cookie, now is not that time for that. We have to report back to Millennial Tree Cookie." Wind Archer Cookie huffed bashfully.

"O-Oh, yeah. We should probably get out of here anyway." You replied, your face flushing in embarrassment.

The two of you fixed your appearances the best you could after the passionate and intense activity. Brushing leaves and dirt from your clothing. You tried to stand but your legs wobbled like they were made of jelly and you couldn't walk a few steps without stumbling.

Wind Archer Cookie swiftly scooped you up into his arms bridal style.

"Here, I got you." He said. You couldn't help but blush.

"Thanks..." You replied. It was quiet for a long moment as Wind Archer Cookie carried you through the untamed floral of Beast-Yeast's forest. He cleared his throat a little, suddenly hiding his reddening cheeks with his scarf.

"When we get back home, we could... continue. If you want." Wind Archer Cookie offered hesitantly. You blushed brightly and nodded.

"I would really like that." You replied eagerly.

[ireneispunk]

Just a Taste

Moder AU Aemond Targaryen x female coworker reader smut (requested)

request: 'Hi Irene! Can I request a lovely smutty modern aemond x reader where they're friends but not quite. Reader thinks aemond is annoying and aemond thinks reader is cute so he teases her a lot. They're at a work party and Aemond gets annoyed when others tease and flirt with her so he drags reader off to another room and marks her as his. Thank you thank you!'

w.c: 3278

c.w: SMUT 18+, frustration to lovers (??), oral f receiving, unprotected p in v sex, aemond and reader work together in modern au, me not knowing how grown up office jobs work :)

a.n: thank you so much for the request! sorry it too me so long but i hope you love it!

i'm starting an aemond and jacaerys perma taglist cus of my inconsistent positng teehee, let me know if / which you wish to be on!

You groaned taking a look at the time on your monitor, it was somehow only halfway through the day. You typed away endlessly, watching as the minute ticked to 1pm. You exhaled, before making your way to the break room, greeting the few other members of staff in there. You heard the shuffling as some people made their way in or out, clicking on the kettle for your tea. You felt a presence behind you, and you already knew who it was before looking. “What do you want Aemond? Just to admire the view?” You spoke, throwing a teabag in your mug. He scoffed lightly, stepping to the side of you and leaning his palm against the counter.

“I came to offer my condolences,” you turned your head to face him and raised your eyebrows. His light hair tied back in its signature bun, shirt sleeves half rolled up. “I heard Robberts accepted my proposal over yours.” He spoke so smugly, begging for a reaction out of you. You turned to the fridge, pulling out the milk and rolling your eyes once he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, I did hear about that unfortunate slip in his judgement.” Your fingers tapped upon the countertop, waiting for the hot water. “Though I do recall it was my last four? Was it? That beat out yours.”  A small chuckle left his lips as his arms folded across his front.

“I do love when you bare your teeth and indulge me.” He said lowly only addressing you.

You puffed out a sigh, turning to put the milk away. “If you spent half as much time on your research as you did being insufferable maybe you’d have a better shot.”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed his hand over his heart.

“Mmm, that’s the idea.” You spoke almost absent mindedly, opening the cupbpard above you to find the sugar jar empty. You let out a frustrated groan, tilted your head back and closing your eyes.

“Are these something you’d want?” You turned to face Aemond, his large hands holding out small sugar packets. Your eyes went wide, noticing it was the good brand too.

“Where did you get those!” You exclaimed, a smile reaching your lips.

“Linda’s desk.” He replied, smirk across his face. Yours dropped slightly. Linda.

“Linda from accounting?” You groaned remembering the time you used the unassigned parking spot she claimed was hers. “I think she might actually spill blood if she notices them gone.” He laughed and as you reached for the packets he pulled his hand back, you furrowed your brows and looked up at him before trying to grab them from him again. He lifted them up above his head, the movement untucked the front of his shirt slightly. You couldn’t even fight the immediate urge to look at the exposed skin, his toned stomach and light happy trail brought a warmth to your face. You tore your eyes away returning them to Aemond’s, he eyed you with a small smirk playing at his lips.

“Give me the sugar Aemond.” You tried to speak in a stern manner but found it hard to considering the heat across your cheeks. He tilted his head to the side slightly, looking expectantly. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaving your palm open. “Please?” You questioned. He smiled widely place the packets in your palm, his fingers grazing over yours ever so slightly. He made his way out of the breakroom as you tried to simmer your racing heart. You watched as he paused for a moment, turning back around to you and resting his palm upon the door frame.

“See you Saturday.” He said with a smirk. You shot him a puzzled look, before realisation washed over you.

You grimaced lightly, “Wouldn’t miss it.” You said flatly. He poked his tongue into his cheek in amusement before disappearing off behind the wall.

You cursed under your breath as you made it back to your desk. A hand slamming down on your desk made you jump and look up. Your office friend stood above you looking expectantly. “A little birdy told me you haven’t made some boring excuse to miss the party tomorrow!” Her excitement reverberated through your cubicle. You shot her a ‘keep it down’ glare as she threw her hands up and squatted next to where you sat.

“I forgot to orchestrate a family emergency, but there’s still time break a bone.” You took a sip of your drink. She huffed, pushing your arm lightly.

“The financial year ends on the same day every year… I think you just wanted the excuse to see Aemond again.” She giggled watching your eyes go wide.

“Absolutely not! He is the bane of my existence, I’m pretty sure he is punishment for whatever I did in a past life.” You couldn’t lie to yourself though, ever since Aemond joined your firm it had made things more entertaining at some points, if not a whole lot more frustrating too.

She raised her brows, peering over the top of your desk slightly to ensure the coast was clear. “The punishment could be a little less delicious don’t you think?” You scoffed, trying to become absorbed in your work. She rose to her feet and was a few feet away from your desk before turning back to exclaim, “Ooh! Wear something sexy!”, Your jaw hung open, but no words fell out. Your colleague beside you raised a brow at you as you face flushed.

It felt as if hours had passed as you sat upon your bedroom floor upon a mess of clothes. You watched as the clock ticked, you were technically already running late to the “it’s not mandatory but we’d love each and every one of you to show up and celebrate with us!” party. Your head looked between two dresses laid out in front of you, one black and the other in your favourite colour. The black was the obligatory ‘there but unused funeral dress’ you had, the other verged on being the perfect dress. You put it on one last time and looked in the mirror, it was tighter than what you were used to, short but not so short you had to worry, and the colour complimented your complexion perfectly. You felt beautiful in this dress and glanced back at the black one once more deciding whether to play it safe. You phone chimed upon your bed, and you opened the message from your friend.

It was a mirror selfie in the bathroom with a drink in hand. ‘Don’t pussy out.’ The message read. You rolled your eyes before another message chimed through, ‘ps. bar has free drinks’. You laughed lightly before sliding your heels on and grabbing your jacket. You replied back with a short ‘on the way’ before climbing into your taxi.

You arrived at your office building, the height seeming daunting all of a sudden. You passed a few faces you knew, smoking besides the entrance, and exchanged a few hellos. Your shoes clicked across the marble floors as you made your way to the lift. A nervousness bubbled within you as it went past the floor you worked on up to one of the top floors that served as a function room. The doors opened and to your relief, revealed a bustling party. You stepped out paused at the top of the small set of stairs that led down to the main floor and eyed the room. You vaguely remembered the layout from your first week and tour of the building, but you had never seen it in action, and you couldn’t deny it looked good. The one empty bar was replaced with two mixologists pouring various liquids, the lights were dimmed, with lamps and string lights casting a warm glow upon the room. The music was loud enough to engulf the room but did not deafen you. You fiddled with your sleeve for a moment, scanning the room for your friend, before pulling your jacket from your shoulders and leaving it with the others. Your fingers grazed against the cool metal banister as you stepped down the stairs. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling it click with every step of your heel. Maybe it was your late arrival, your dressed up look, the lull in music as it changed tracks, or a combination of the three but you caught the attention of a few pairs of eyes on the floor beneath you. Your eyes looked towards the floor before a loud voice calling out to you made you jump. You looked up to see your friend with a wide grin across her face waving out to you, her exclamation had attracted the attention of a few of your coworkers as they glanced between the two of you. You quickly stepped down the rest of the stairs to meet her and shushed her, linking your arms. You both made your way over to the seating at the bar as she rambled incessantly about all the unmissable things you had missed.

You pushed yourself up onto the barstool and smiled at the bartender as your drink of choice was slid towards you. You watched as your friend laughed through her stories before quickly exclaiming she needed to use the restroom again. You smiled to yourself, you were glad she was here or else you’d find it harder to be comfortable. Just as quickly as she left, another presence joined you. You looked up, seeing Aemond leaning with his back against the bar. His eyes shamelessly scanned your body, appreciating the parts he had never seen before, and admiring how your dress fit you. His eyes met yours, his signature smirk plastered across his lips. “Can I buy you a drink?” he questioned.

“It’s an open bar?” You retorted; brows furrowed.

“Then I can buy you two.” You laughed at his ridiculousness but nodded your head. Aemond smiled to himself, he earnt a genuine laugh from you, and it was the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. You took a moment to take in his appearance, a dark shirt covering his chest with the top button undone, his long silver hair cascading over his shoulders instead of thrown into a bun. A faint blush painted your cheeks as he caught your eyes on him, yet he did not taunt you as he usually would. The conversation flowed between you, about work, shows, both of your overly competitive sides showing at times. Your head threw back in laughter at one of his remarks, your hand gripping his forearm as you laughed. As soon as you noticed you removed it and placed it back around your drink. Aemond watched you intently. You never wanted to give anything away, never reveal that you wanted him too, yet your body betrayed you.

Your time was interrupted as one of your colleagues joined you on your other side. He addressed you directly, then nodded his head towards Aemond who merely rose a brow. “Hi Alex.” Your response was blunt, this was the first time he’d spoken to you in months. Unlike Aemond, you felt disgusting under his gaze, his eyes never met yours, opting to settle on your breasts even as you spoke.

“Is there something you need?” Aemond spoke, a hint of annoyance in his voice. You looked towards him, fingers digging into the edge of the bar.

“Oh, yeah. Big boss wants you. Something about the appraisal on your report.” Alex grinned, he seemed happy to watch Aemond curse under his breath and walk across the room towards your boss. You smiled flatly taking a large sip of your drink. He continued to talk at you, not realising your disinterest from your ‘oh really’, ‘wow’, and ‘cool’ roster of responses. It felt as if hours passed but in reality, it had only been a few minutes. Never so badly had you wanted Aemond glued to your hip.

Aemond stood talking to his boss, trying to hurry the conversation along so he could return to your side. Every time he looked back to the bar, anger bubbled from within him. “So by next Monday?” Snapped him from burning holes into your back.

“Yes, Monday.” He answered immediately catching a few people off guard. His boss thanked him and Aemond shook a few hands before making his way back to you. His fists clenched beside him as he weaved through the huddles of people. He knew you didn’t care for Alex. He listened to your laugh; he knew it was your fake laugh because he had made you laugh properly all evening.

You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling of a hand upon your shoulder. You looked up to see Aemond with a look on his face you had never seen before, pure anger. His fingers burned into your flesh. “I need to borrow you for a moment.” He didn’t allow you to respond before he had pulled you by your hand from the bar stool and back towards the stairs. You struggled to keep up with his long strides in your heels as you called his name. He pushed open a door to a room you had never been in before to reveal a dark desolate meeting room. He swiftly shut the door and clicked the lock on it, turning to face you.

“Aemond what-“ He cut you off with a kiss, his hands reaching the sides of your face. As you registered what was happening your pressed both hands against his chest and pushed him away. You watched his face, your chest rising and falling at a quick pace. You felt hunger take over your body and stepped back towards him. “Kiss me again.” You whispered. Moments as the words left your lips his hand returned to your cheek and his lips brushed yours before kissing you deeply. His lips fit against yours in a perfectly satisfying way. His body pressed against yours, pushing you until the backs of your thighs hit the cool table. He pulled his lips from yours as they found your neck, tongue running across the softness beneath your ear. You let out a gasp as his teeth grazed across your throat, biting slightly and kissing every mark he left.

“Sit for me.” He spoke between kisses. Aemond’s tone spread a heat in your lower stomach. The sound of champagne popping snapped you out of your haze, eyes shooting towards the door.

“But what if someone knows.” You whispered. You bit your lip, as Aemond’s fingers brushed the hem of your dress and against your thighs.

His lips left your neck as he looked you in the eye. With nothing but the moonlight glowing up the room, he looked angelic, with a devilish smirk upon his lips. “The music is loud enough. Sit.”

You nodded, sitting upon the table, the cool lacquered wood hitting your thighs. He placed one more kiss upon your lips before sinking to his knees in front of you. He pushed your knees apart, settling between your thighs. Chills ran over your body as he peppered kissed from your knee to your upper thigh. You watched him, nervous look on your face. His hand reached your lower stomach and pushed against it slightly, “Lay down, you’ll enjoy it more.” He mumbled against your thigh. You swallowed, laying back against the table and trying to ignore the thudding in your chest. His fingers hiked the edge of your dress around your hips, a small groan escaping his lips at the sight of your clothed pussy. He placed kisses at your inner thighs before placing an open-mouthed kiss over your clit. You felt a jolt travel through your body as he slid your panties to the side. He hummed, his middle fingers grazed upon your pussy before delving inside, slowly bottoming out within you over and over. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt Aemond’s tongue latch upon your clit, circling it softly. You propped yourself up on your elbow, you free hand making its way into Aemond’s silver hair. Your fingers gripped the strands, pulling him closer to you. His tongue responded by picking up the pace as he angled his fingers upwards, grazing that sweet spot inside of you. Your stomach tightened as Aemond raced you towards your peak. You looked down between your legs to meet his gaze already watching you, causing your orgasm to wash over you. It took all of your strength to not clamp your thighs shut, letting him coax a final few moans from your lips.

You watched as he rose to his feet, towering over your body splayed out upon the table. You sat up, hand snaking around his neck to pull him back into a kiss, much hungrier than before. Your hands ran down his chest, the softness of his shirt hiding the strength of his chest. Your fingertips untucked the shirt from his trousers before you felt Aemond’s hand across your cheek, his thumb resting upon your chin. Pulling back from the kiss, you watched as he undid the buckle on his belt, pulling it from his waist in a way that made your cheeks flare. It clanked to the ground, as he pulled his trousers down enough to expose his cock, your jaw going slack at the sight of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips found yours as he lined himself up with your pussy. You jolted slightly as he inserted himself, a loud moan leaving your lips as he filled you up. His thrusts started slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size before you brought your legs up and wrapped them around his waist. His forehead rested against yours, as he hissed slightly at the new angle. Aemond’s pace quickened as your relaxed into his arms, moans leaving your lips that delicately grazed against his.

Your nails dug into the top of his back, eyes screwing shut as a flurry of praises escaped your lips. Aemond groaned, pulling you impossibly close, your breasts pressing against his chest and his head finding the crook of your neck to torment again. You dropped your head to the other side, allowing him to explore your neck as he fucked you. As another orgasm approached you, your fingers found his hair once again, pulling lightly as pleasure took over your body. Your legs crossed behind him as his thrusts repeatedly edged you closer. A final scream of his name and your pussy tightening in pleasure caused him to curse and bury his hips deep into you, filling you with his seed. His breathing was raggedy as his head rested upon your shoulder, lazily kissing it.

You adjusted your dress, eyeing your dishevelled reflection in the reflection of the window. A familiar pair of hands met your waist, sliding around to your front. You sighed as his chin rested upon your shoulder, turning your head to face him. You admired the way the moon illuminated his light hair, the faded scar that ran down his cheek framing his beauty. “I can’t think of anything worse than going back out to that party.” You hummed, placing your hands over his.

Aemond laughed lightly, turning you to face him and weaving his fingers between yours. “What if we didn’t?” He questioned, his usual smirk finding its way back to his face. You hummed inquisitively. “There’s no party at my place.” He shrugged lightly. You thought for a moment, before grinning and pulling him by his arm, a genuine smile of adoration planted firmly upon his face as you did.

[hy6erion]

i keep reading jayce and his stupid big dick pleaseee write more if you can its so hot🧎🧎🧎 i don't see enough of dom jayce🙏🏻

(no pressure if you don't feel like it!!!♡ i love the way you write btw!♡♡♡♡♡)

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬)

⇢𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞(𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬), 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Jayce had been fuming all night.

You had seen the way his jaw locked, the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides, the way his golden-brown eyes darkened every time someone looked at you for too long.

It didn't matter that you had done nothing wrong.

It didn't matter that you weren't flirting.

To Jayce, it was enough.

So now?

Now you're face-down on the mattress, legs spread wide, your ass up in the air, completely at his mercy.

And fuck- he wasn’t being gentle.

His thick cock slams into you from behind, stretching you open, his hands digging into your hips, holding you exactly where he wants you. The wet slap of his skin against yours fills the room, filthy and obscene, your slick dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.

"You think this pussy belongs to anyone but me?" he growls against your ear, his voice low, rough, vibrating with jealousy.

"T-thought you could just bat your pretty little lashes and have every guy in the room eating out of your fucking hand?"

You sob, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your body rocking forward with every brutal thrust, every stroke hitting so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck—"

"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he mocks, his grip tightening, forcing you to take him deeper, harder.

"Like being reminded exactly who this pussy belongs to?"

You can't even speak, can't even breathe, your mouth hanging open, your moans breaking into breathless sobs as he pounds into you, fucking you like he's trying to fuck the memory of every other man out of your head.

"You're so fucking tight, baby-fuck-squeezing my cock like you were made for me," he groans, his fingers bruising into your skin, his pace relentless.

"This is mine. This pretty little cunt? Fucking mine."

You're completely wrecked, your body shaking, your thighs trembling violently, your pussy soaked, fluttering around his cock, dragging him deeper with every thrust.

"Ohhh, fuck-Jayce-s'too much-s'too deep-"

"Too deep?" he laughs breathlessly, mocking, pressing a big hand between your shoulder blades, shoving your face down into the mattress, pinning you down.

"Nah, baby. You can take it."

His cock drives into you, filling you to the brim, stretching you so fucking wide you can't even think.

"This is what you wanted, huh?" he grunts, his fingers slipping between your thighs, rubbing tight circles against your swollen, aching clit.

"Wanted me to get jealous so l'd fuck you stupid, make you feel me?"

You wail, your whole body clenching, your nails digging into the sheets as the pleasure piles up too fast, too hard, too much

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck-g-gonna cum—"

"Yeah, baby?" he grins, grinding his cock deeper, dragging out your pleasure, making it impossible to hold back.

"Then do it. Fucking cum for me. Let me feel it."

And fuck-

Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, your pussy clamping down so tight around him that Jayce groans, his own thrusts faltering.

Your body shakes, convulses, pleasure surging through you like a fucking current, your walls milking his cock, squeezing him so tight he nearly collapses on top of you.

"Ohhh, f-fuck-shit, baby—"

Jayce snarls, slamming into you one last time, his hips grinding deep as he spills inside you, filling you up, stuffing you full of thick, hot cum.

"Take it, sweetheart," he grunts, pressing you deeper into the mattress, his hands still gripping your hips, holding you still.

"Take all of it."

His cock throbs inside you, pulse after pulse of heat flooding your already wrecked pussy, dripping out around his shaft.

He stays there, panting, wrecked, his body still trembling against yours. His fingers stroke lazily down your spine, warm, possessive.

Then, finally, he pulls out, watching as his cum spills out of you, thick and messy, pooling between your thighs.

Jayce groans, his fingers spreading your folds, pushing it back in with two thick fingers, watching you shudder.

"Mmm, can't have you wasting it, baby," he murmurs, grinning against your shoulder, pressing a lazy, satisfied kiss there.

You whimper, your body still shaking, still sensitive, still completely spent.

"I wasn't even flirting, Jayce-"

He just chuckles, grabbing your ass, giving it a sharp smack that makes you yelp.

"Doesn't matter," he hums, his breath hot against your ear.

"This pussy still needed a fucking reminder of who it belongs to."

Jayce should be done.

He should be satisfied, spent, exhausted-he just came so fucking hard inside you, stuffing you full, filling you up, marking you in every way possible.

But fuck— One look at the mess he made of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen, wrecked pussy, and he's already hard again.

You're still face-down on the mattress, your legs trembling, your body twitching with aftershocks, your pussy still fluttering from how hard he fucked you.

And Jayce?

Jayce just grins, pressing slow, possessive kisses along the backs of your thighs.

"Mmm, baby, you look so fucking good like this," he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the cum dripping out of you, spreading it along your inner thighs.

"So messy. So fucking pretty."

You whimper, still too sensitive, your body still shaking, but Jayce doesn't give you time to recover.

Instead, he grabs your hips, flips you onto your back, and dives in.

The first drag of his tongue over your overstimulated pussy makes you scream.

"Ohhh-fuck, Jayce-s'too much-"

"Shhh, baby," he hums, his big hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider, pressing them flat against the mattress.

"You can take it."

You sob, your back arching off the sheets as his tongue laps up the mess he made of you, slow and lazy at first, just enough to make you twitch, whimper, gasp.

"Mmm, fuck," he groans, his breath hot against your soaked, throbbing cunt, his tongue teasing along your folds, swirling around your sensitive clit.

"Tasting myself on you? Fucking filthy."

You can barely breathe, barely think, your hands tangling in his messy brown hair, trying to push him away, pull him closer-you don't even fucking know.

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck—please-"

"Please what, baby?" he murmurs, grinning against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you spread wide for him.

"You want me to stop?"

"N-no-fuck-don't stop, don't stop”

Jayce just chuckles, burying his face between your thighs, his tongue flicking out, dragging a slow, messy lick up your slit.

"Mmm, that's my girl," he hums, lapping at the slick, drinking down the taste of you mixed with his cum, groaning at how fucking good it is.

"So fucking sweet. Soaked for me."

He's starving for it.

His tongue works you open, licking up every drop, lapping at the mess between your legs, sucking on your swollen clit just to hear you sob.

Your thighs shake around his head, your hands gripping his hair, pulling, tugging, your body rocking against his mouth.

"Ohhh-fuck, fuck-Jayce—"

"That's it, baby," he groans, his voice muffled, breath heavy, hot, desperate.

"Grind that pretty little pussy against my face. Use me."

You whimper, your legs twitching, your back arching off the bed, your body so overstimulated it hurts, but it feels so fucking good you can't stop.

"O-ohhh-fuck-s'too much-I can't”

"Yes, you can," he growls, shoving his tongue deeper, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs.

"Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue."

The second he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, your whole body snaps.

Your thighs squeeze his head, your nails claw at his scalp, your breath shatters into a scream as your orgasm slams into you, harder than before, overwhelming, drowning you in white-hot pleasure.

"F-fuck-fuck-Jayce, ohhh-ohhh, god-JAYCE-"

Jayce just moans against your pussy, his tongue still flicking, lapping, milking every drop out of you, swallowing it down like he's fucking addicted.

By the time he finally pulls away, panting, his chin soaked, his lips swollen, his eyes glazed over with hunger-

You're wrecked.

Your body is shaking, your legs twitching, your breath still uneven, your pussy still throbbing.

And Jayce?

Jayce just grins, licking his lips, dragging two thick fingers through the cum and slick still dripping from your pussy.

"Mmm, look at that, baby," he murmurs, pressing his fingers inside you, curling them deep just to hear you whimper.

"Still so messy for me."

You whimper, your body too sensitive, too overstimulated, still trembling.

"J-Jayce-fuck, I c-can't—"

"Shhh, baby," he hums, dragging his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You can."

He smirks, crawling back up your body, pressing his cock-already hard again-against your soaked, ruined cunt.

"And you will."

You know he's not letting you sleep anytime soon.

[xsublimelimex]

The Shy Little Prince -

CW: Diaper messing & breastfeeding

Disclaimer: all characters depicted in this story are consenting adults over the age of 18. If you are NOT 18 or older, click away now!

He’s doing it again. He’s standing legs spread slightly apart crouched the tiniest bit completely silent. He thinks I haven’t noticed but mommy notices everything when it comes to her little prince. Mommy knows that position means one thing and one thing only, he’s messing his diapie.

He’s so cute all red faced clutching his toy blocks squeezing down as he attempts to make his mess. This is probably his second poop in two hours and I can tell he’s embarrassed but little does he know it’s all mommy’s doing. It’s been three days and he hasn’t made a single mess which of course meant I was worried.

Instead of his usual cranapple juice I subbed it for half prune juice to help get him going and boy has it worked wonders! But I know my baby and I can tell he’s distressed which just doesn’t do.

“Sweetie come sit on mommy’s lap.” I call out to him. He looks over and shakes his head, his thumb slips into his mouth. Oh my poor baby he must be feeling even more little than usual. “Baby boy, come to mommy’s lap it’s okay.” I say as softly as I can hand outstretched toward him.

He hesitates as he slowly makes his way over. His diaper is so full he has the cutest little waddle as he approaches. The scent of his mess makes itself known but he’s my sweetie pie so it doesn’t bother me in fact it makes me so happy to know he’s finally emptied his tummy.

My poor baby was having tummy aches for the past few days and I’m just glad it’s over. He rubs at his tear filled eyes as he stops in front of me.

I pull his thumb from his mouth and his lower lip trembles as tears threaten to spill over his eyes. “Baby what has you so upset? Is it your messy diaper? Is that what has you so distraught?” I ask him softly. He looks away and nods his head.

“I’m sorry mommy, I kept messing myself. I couldn’t hold it” he sobs and covers his face with his hands. His shoulders shake with the force of his sobs and my heart just breaks.

I pull him onto my lap, messy diaper and all. I cradle his head on my shoulder and rub his back. “Sweetie please calm down. Mommy would never get upset with you messing yourself. In fact I love it because it means I’m feeding you well and that your tummy is happy.” I speak softly as I rub my thumb across his cheek.

He looks up at me with tears in his eyes and his his lips pursed in disbelief. “Really mommy? But I’m so stinky now.” He whines and I laugh.

“Well baby boy you won’t be stinky for long because mommy’s gonna clean that cute little butt right up and you’ll be in a clean new diapie in no time. So no need to get so upset right?” I boop his nose and his eyes brighten as a smile overcomes his lips. He nods and pulls at the neckline of my v neck top indicating what he needs at that moment.

“Now I think my sweet little prince needs mommy’s milkies before he can get changed, is mommy right?” I ask in a knowing tone. I pull up my top and pull my large heavy tit out of my breastfeeding bra. He looks at my leaking nipple with hungry eyes as his lips open slightly a bit of drool is already leaking out. My poor baby.

“Open wide my sweet little angel.” His lips spread wider and I slip my nipple into his mouth. He begins to suck hungrily as if it’s his last time suckling on mommy’s tits. I gasp as my pussy clenches. He squeezes my tit sucking up as much milk as he can. He closes his eyes and hums as he drinks and it’s the most pure innocent sight I’ve ever seen. His hand pulls at my other boob so I slip my top of completely and snap my bra off.

He hums in approval eliciting a laugh from me. I stroke his forehead and lean down and kiss it. I moan as his fingers find my other nipple and squeeze it, milk dribbling out. “There you go sweetie, keep suckling on mommy’s tits. Such a good little boy.” He starts whining and wiggling his butt.

His hand goes to the back of his diaper and presses down on his mess squishing it against his butt in an attempt to hold in his poopy. Poor baby needs too poop again but is too shy.

I press down hard on his lower belly and he cries out. I quickly slip my hand down to the back of his diapie pushing away his hand and feel as he pushes out a big mess. He grunts and whines around my nipple as he keeps pushing more out. His diaper getting so full to the point that it’s so pushed out you can see inside a bit. “It’s okay honey you can mess as much as you need mommy will take care of it. You look so beautiful with your forehead all scrunched like that trying to squeeze your poopy out.”

I squeeze it the back of his diaper and smush it against his booty. “Good boy I love when you make messes for mommy.”

He sighs as he pisses his diaper the warmth spreading against my belly as he goes. He closes his eyes and begins suckling even harder finally relaxed after making his mess. “Such a good little boy.” I say quietly as I stroke his hair back as he drinks.

Let me know what you guys think!!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Wardrobe creaked quietly, almost faintly as SAM MONROE wedged himself inside, his lanky frame folded uncomfortably against the wooden panels. Beside him, little Vinnie squirmed happily in his lap, clutching a small, carefully secured mug of lukewarm cocoa Sam made him in secret just minutes ago. The toddler’s tiny hands made the mug look almost comical, yet Sam wasn’t taking any chances - he won't clean his mother's favorite white carpet from flavored milk.

“Don’t spill it, buddy,” Sam whispered with tone firm yet still low enough to keep their hiding spot a secret. “If you dump that all over me, I swear, I’m throwing us both to the wolves.”

Vinnie responded with a gleeful babble, probably not even understanding sam's critical words but just being completely happy his father is giving him the beloved attention. Chubby face light up as he took a cautious sip, chocolate smudging the corners of his mouth. Sam sighed, lips twitching with the ghost of a smile before he wiped the mess with his long sleeve.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, grumpiness barely masking the fondness in his voice. “I’m risking my ass here, hiding from Grandma just so you can have your little sugar fix.”

The toddler cooed in response, wide eyes darting towards the small crack in the wardrobe door. The light outside from both Christmas tree and soft brightness casting faint patterns across their faces.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sam narrowed his eyes when he noticed Vinnie leaning toward the crack, tiny mouth opening like he was about to yell. “We’re on a stealth mission here, okay? You can’t blow our cover.”

The boy of course giggled, small teeth peeking through, and Sam shook his head, leaning back against the wardrobe wall.

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” he grumbled, lifting his finger to lightly poke Vinnie's cheek before you tickling the soft skin “Otherwise, I’d probably leave you out there to deal with Grandma yourself.”

Vinnie babbled something out of human dictionary, thrusting the mug towards Sam like he was offering it to share.

“What?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You want me to drink your cocoa now? You realize you’ve got backwash in there, right?”

The toddler didn’t seem to care, grin only growing widening but he whined now, more impatient for Sam to take it.

“Fine,” Sam relented, sighing before he took the tiniest sip. “Happy now?”

Vinnie clumsily clapped his hands, clearly delighted with himself, and Sam chuckled softly.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered, pulling the boy closer and wrapping his arms protectively around his small frame. “But I guess you’re my dork, huh?”

“Bet they’re all wondering where we went,” Sam said, voice softer now, as if it was to himself. “Let ‘em wonder. This is way better than all that fake holiday cheer crap.”

He glanced down at Vinnie, who was now resting his head against Sam’s chest - using it proudly as his pillow- eyelids growing heavy.

“Merry Christmas, little man,” Sam whispered, brushing a kiss to the top of Vinnie’s curls. “Next year, you can help me come up with an even better hiding spot.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @rssmary @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

[pbelfz]

Two to One | 15 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Spilled Milk Chapter 14 | Chapter 16 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad… Right?

WARNINGS: gaslighting, domestic violence, alcohol

“You’re WHAT?!”

Hana gaped back at (Y/n), trying to ensure she heard her correctly. (Y/n) smiled sadly at Hana.

“I just… got an opportunity elsewhere…,” she attempted to be vague. Hana didn’t look convinced.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans.”

(Y/n) gawked. “No–! And even if I was…,” she made a face at Hana. Hana tutted.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans without me,” she repeated, now laughing. The morning rush shift had slowed down to a nonexistent teeter. (Y/n) smiled at Hana’s comment as she cleaned one of the tables in the dining area of the quaint restaurant. Hana groaned, leaning back with her elbows on the countertop, her head tilting toward the ceiling.

“What am I gonna do without you here?!” Hana groaned at her best friend. (Y/n) announced that she put her two weeks in yesterday when Hana was off. Their manager flipped her shit, but Hana argued that she had it coming and that (Y/n) quitting should be the least of her worries. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I dunno. I’ll still stop by for some lattes. Give you guys some business with my big Only Fans money.”

Hana shook her head. “I’m gonna put my two weeks in tomorrow. Or I might just dip after today and not come back.” Hana’s curls bounced as she turned to check to make sure their manager was in the café backroom. Deep in the café backroom.

“You should stay for the chance of running into Shoto,” (Y/n) recommended, leaning on her elbows on the cashier counter. Katsuki and Izuku had been frequenting their café much more often lately, and she and Hana kid that it was only a matter of time before word of Sato’s traveled to Pro Hero Shoto. However, Hana still shook her head.

“What do you mean? We’re married. I see him every night. Work is my chance to get away from him!” She gave (Y/n) a coy smile. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, grinning, smacking Hana’s arm with a small hand towel.

“Shut up!”

Izuku and Katsuki threw themselves headfirst into their work, and (Y/n) shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not like she expected things to change after she finally had sex, but she couldn’t help but feel as though the experience wasn’t as life-changing as it was all made out to be.

What was that feeling? That persistent nudging tug in the depths of her mind and gut, telling her that something more should be happening now, either between her, Izuku, and Katsuki or in her life? Disappointment? She lost her virginity to one of the most famous pro heroes in Japan, and the experience wasn’t anything less than euphoric. What was there to be disappointed about?

Maybe how neither Izuku nor Katsuki recognized (Y/n)’s perceived loss of innocence. (Y/n) considered bitterly whether there was even any innocence to ‘lose’, and why would having sex make her any less innocent? Was she dirty now? No, no. That’s not it. (Y/n) didn’t expect the heroes to celebrate or anything of that nature. That’d be rather disturbing. What was she expecting, though? Nothing ultimately changed after the intercourse. Not herself, not really. Not Katsuki. Not Izuku. What the hell even was virginity?

Did she want them to change? What more did she want to come from that experience?

“Izuku?” She called, sitting on the couch one night. It was late; Izuku had just gotten home from a 16-hour shift. (Y/n) never really knew if he and Katsuki chose to work that long willingly – their hours seemed flexible – but she did notice that Katsuki seemed to know his limits and take scheduled breaks throughout the day. She couldn’t say the same about Izuku.

“Yeah?” Izuku replied half-heartedly. He obviously didn’t want to speak to anybody right now. He was digging through the fridge, looking for leftovers to wolf down. (Y/n) was convinced that Katsuki was the only reason why Izuku remembered to even eat and shower or even take care of himself at all. Katsuki’s footsteps could be heard upstairs; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower himself.

“What’s virginity?” (Y/n) blurted obtusely.

The shuffling of plastic containers and cartons in the fridge stopped. Izuku stood upright.

“What?”          

He sounded incredulous. (Y/n) didn’t want to look at him because she was so ashamed of her question.

“What’s virginity?” She repeated, a little louder and snappier, in case he didn’t hear her. Izuku looked at the back of her head with a wild stare.

“(Y/n), I’m not–,“ Izuku was not in the mood for whatever she was talking about.

“And what’s the point of it?” (Y/n) continued. Izuku dragged a hand down his face.

“I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for,” he was blunt, more blunt than he cared to be. He was exhausted. He just wanted to eat something, go to bed and turn the world off, not deal with whatever emotional turmoil (Y/n) was feeling.

“I just… don’t feel any different,” (Y/n) pondered aloud, not caring if Izuku wanted to talk or not.

She heard the fridge door shut and footsteps approach. “Uh, good?” Izuku spoke with a mouth full of chicken, which he didn’t even bother to heat up. “It’d be weird if you felt different after having sex?” Izuku stared down at her oddly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean there’s, like…,” she made vague gestures with her hands. “It’s like nothing even happened.”

Izuku was tired, and when Izuku was tired, it was like talking to a brick wall. He was just as stubborn as Katsuki, if not more. This conversation was going nowhere. He swallowed the food he was chewing and shook his head, shrugging.

“I don’t know what to say.”

(Y/n) sighed, frustrated. She got off the couch and stormed up the stairs. “Ugh. Forget it.”

Izuku made his way over to claim the spot on the couch she left, continuing to eat his food.

Okay. (Y/n) can admit that she was being a little fussy. She blew by Katsuki, who was bent over in the middle of the hall replacing his bath items into the closet, and retreated into the bedroom.

Katsuki’s hair was still damp from his shower. He blinked, watching as she disappeared into the bedroom but left the door wide open. Katsuki stared at the door for a minute before inhaling slowly and letting out a sigh. He stood, closed the closet, and rubbed the back of his neck as he hesitantly followed after (Y/n).

He stood in the doorway with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. (Y/n) was on the bed, scrolling on her phone, obviously upset. Katsuki was debating whether he should bite or turn and walk away. Whenever he or Izuku gets into a bad mood, they typically avoid each other lest it blow up in their faces. He didn’t know how this would turn out with (Y/n).

He’ll bite. (Y/n) was more sensitive than Deku. She needed different things than he did. Katsuki was still learning.

He shifted his weight, feeling stiff. “Something happen?”

“No,” came the sharp reply. Katsuki blinked, and his face soured. Katsuki hadn’t heard her use that tone with him before.

“What?” He snapped back.

(Y/n) didn’t look up at him, still scrolling on her phone. “I said, no, nothing happened.”

Katsuki stared at her. “Okay, but something obviously did? Your attitude is shit right now.”

(Y/n) shrugged and shook her head. “Your attitude is always shit. What, I’m not allowed to be upset about something?”

Katsuki threw his head back and closed his eyes. He took a breath. Calm down. “So, something did happen?”

(Y/n) groaned, rolling her eyes. “You guys just… practically ignore me!” She blurted. “You’re never here! I moved out of my apartment, I put my two weeks in at my job for you, and you guys don’t even seem grateful… My whole life is about to change…”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Us? Grateful? We are paying your tuitionfor your shitty education. We are giving you free housing in one of the safest neighborhoods in Japan. We are giving you complete access to your own bank account with millions of yen already in it with no strings attached. If there’s anyone that should be grateful, I’m looking right at her.”

(Y/n) was teary-eyed at Katsuki’s harsh words. She yelled at him, “What if I was fine before all of that?!”

“Then leave!”

Izuku came up the stairs. He had dark circles under his eyes, and despite the argument, he didn’t appear urgent. “What’s going–“

“Go back to your shitty life. I don’t care,” Katsuki turned and disengaged, going downstairs and leaving (Y/n) crying on the bed.

Izuku could barely stand on two legs from exhaustion, but he relented the fact that Katsuki could handle himself. If there was anyone that needed to be pacified, it was (Y/n). He had to figure out how to settle all of this before the clock struck 1 AM so they could all get to bed peacefully.

He stepped further into the bedroom, staring with dead eyes at (Y/n) as she cried on their bed. He had to push himself to keep walking forward and to sit on the bed next to her. He waited silently for her to stop crying enough to look up at him.

Eventually, her sobs simmered, and she just sniffled. She rubbed her eyes, finally meeting Izuku’s gaze. This was the first time tonight that she really could see the exhaustion on his face, and she felt guilty for making tonight about her.

“What’s going on?” Izuku asks. His voice is calm and quiet, but she hears that tinge of something else – pity.

“I, uh…,” (Y/n) starts, now unsure why she’s upset. “I guess I’m just stressed. And worried. And scared.”

Izuku looked concerned. “About?”

(Y/n) sighed, wiping her eye. “I don’t know,” she paused for a moment. “Katsuki’s right. I should be grateful for all you guys have done for me… I don’t know why I’m feeling like this.”

Izuku glanced off into the hallway, probably trying to determine where Katsuki was in the house. “Are you… not happy here with us?”

(Y/n) instantly shifted to face him fully on the bed. “No, no! That’s not it at all. I’m very happy… It’s just… different.”

He stared at her. “It doesn’t sound like you’re happy. Or look like it, either.”

(Y/n) looked at him oddly, making a point to prevent any more tears from falling. “I am. I am.”

Izuku continued watching her. (Y/n)’s phone vibrated in her hands, and she glanced at it before turning it back over.

“Did we do something to upset you?” Izuku asked. (Y/n) shook her head.

“No, you guys didn’t do anything…,” her voice trailed off.

“We obviously did. What is it?” He could be just as forthright as Katsuki. “We can’t help if we don’t know.” What little patience was left inside of Izuku this evening was nearly depleted. He was trying his hardest to remain present and serene. (Y/n) shook her head. Her phone vibrated again, and Izuku couldn’t help how his gaze flickered down at it.

(Y/n) sighed, realizing Izuku wasn’t really going to leave her alone until she spoke; however, there was an air of shame that surrounded her.

“I just… think I need more attention, maybe…,” she tried not to wince, but she wasn’t sure how well she covered up her embarrassment. “I don’t know. I know you guys have long hours…,” she trailed off once again.

Izuku nodded, “We do.”

“Um…,” she didn’t know what to say next. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I think I’m just a little emotional after…,” she referred to their night together the other week. And, now that she’d thought about it, it wasn’t like they were completely ignoring her, either. They gave her affection as much as they could, kisses and whatnot. They’d all messed around a bit since that night, but they hadn’t gone ‘all the way’ again. Maybe with each other, but not with (Y/n). She didn’t feel ready to, and she knew that upset Izuku. He didn’t say it, but he always seemed a little disappointed when he saw the hesitance in (Y/n)’s eyes and how her touch was fleeting instead of carrying the same passion they started with. It especially disappointed him how she lingered heavier on Katsuki during their intimate moments, leaving Izuku to occasionally feel like the third wheel. He didn’t want to speculate on why this would be, so he never brought attention to it in hopes that he was imagining it.

“I’m sorry,” what exactly was she apologizing for? She felt like she needed to, though. Izuku looked like he was going to fall over from exhaustion, she’d made Katsuki mad, and here she was complaining when they had given her any girl’s dream life.

Izuku was too tired to address this any further. He glanced at the hallway again to see if Katsuki had returned. He hadn’t. He must’ve banished himself to sleep downstairs on the couch.

“Let’s just go to bed, yeah?” Izuku offered.

(Y/n) sighed but reluctantly nodded, feeling like a piece of her was unfulfilled.

Katsuki and Izuku made more of an effort to attend to (Y/n) after that night by spending more time with her when they were home. It made (Y/n) feel worse because she didn’t want them to think she wasn’t satisfied with all they had given her thus far – and now she could see how they were actively trying to keep her happy on top of all of that? Why couldn’t she just be appreciative to begin with? She tried not to let the guilt eat her alive, especially when she remembered that no other person, let alone two people at once, had ever treated her this preciously.

While the two pro heroes built their relationships individually with (Y/n), tensions rose between them, and it made (Y/n) uncomfortable. She didn’t know if this was how they always were or if something recently sparked this apparent rivalry between the two men. As she spent more time settling into the home and acclimating to her new environment, she couldn’t help but notice the sly remarks or side glances they gave each other – about literally anything. Most of their spats had to do with work. (Y/n) hardly knew what truly occurred in the hero world, so she would stay out of it.

Day by day, though, her guilt faded. She felt happier and able to truly enjoy her place in their home, no longer feeling like an outsider or a guest. She was learning both of them, slowly but surely. Katsuki required a lot of attention, but he’d never outright ask for it. He’d linger around (Y/n), not exactly engaging with her but doing mindless things around the house, and he’d get defensive if she pointed it out. She appreciated it when Katsuki was more honest about his desires, especially when he came home and the first thing he did was give her a kiss. Izuku was an insufferable romantic and very different than Katsuki in that regard. He was much more comfortable showing affection, and he always prioritized his partners’ comfort over his desires.

Izuku was much more cynical than his media personality makes him out to be. Sometimes, he said things that even made Katsuki go silent.

Katsuki was also a very clean person. (Y/n) feels like he might have an oral fixation, or maybe he just really, really enjoys watching her eat his cooking. She isn’t sure.

(Y/n) was getting ready for bed, just getting out of the shower, when she heard the whack of skin coming from the kitchen. She paused, listening, her mind trying to reassure her that it wasn’t what she thought it was. The front door opened and slammed shut – someone left the house, or someone just entered. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She quickly tiptoed out of the bedroom, trying not to slip, as she still hadn’t dried off completely, peering down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She caught a glimpse of Izuku sitting at the island by himself. Whatever ruckus went down a few minutes prior no longer remained, and the house was silent. (Y/n) clutched the towel that draped around her, making sure it wasn’t going to fall, as she crept down the stairs.

Izuku glared at her as soon as she entered the kitchen, making her freeze by the door.

“What happened?” (Y/n) asked quietly. Izuku rolled his eyes, finally getting up from his barstool. He opened a kitchen drawer, the one where they kept random medicines, and rummaged through the back of it. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter he’d stashed there.

(Y/n) watched him as he lit his smoke. She’d never seen him smoke in the house before. She got a glimpse of his face, then. His cheek was red and beginning to lightly bruise. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, and immediately, she flashed back to the events at Koburi Pass. She quickly approached Izuku, cupping his face to get a better look.

“Katsuki did that…?” Her emotions were conflicted. Izuku instantly yanked his face away from her before her fingers could even touch him. He took a drag of his cigarette. Tobacco smoke filled the kitchen, and (Y/n) grimaced. She just noticed now that she was shaking. Neither she nor Izuku said anything to each other for a while. They stood together in the kitchen silently, and (Y/n) watched as Izuku finished his cigarette. He rummaged through the medicine drawer once again, pulling out another cig.

“How many…?”

Izuku cut her off, seemingly already knowing what she was going to ask. “I keep them there. He hasn’t found them yet, or if he has, he hasn’t said anything.”

“Is he going to be upset that you’re smoking in the house?”

Izuku laughed bitterly, smoke blowing out with his exhale. He rolled his eyes again and shook his head.

Izuku practically refused to talk to (Y/n) about anything. The two of them just remained in each other’s presence. (Y/n) felt like he needed that more than to talk through whatever happened. He eventually went to bed, but (Y/n) stayed up. Katsuki hadn’t returned home yet, and (Y/n) had a few words to say to him.

It was around 2 AM when Katsuki returned home.

He closed the front door quietly – a complete difference from the slam hours ago. (Y/n) sat in the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk. She was nervous to see him, to get the truth of what happened. He was taking his time removing his shoes in the genkan, and it made every second feel like years. She forgot she even poured herself a glass of milk, as she stared at the entryway.

Katsuki appeared at the door of the kitchen, and his gaze immediately locked onto (Y/n). He looked a little distracted but otherwise fine. It wasn’t until he stepped further into the kitchen that she realized he was drunk.

He looked down at the untouched glass of milk in front of (Y/n).

“You spilled some,” he muttered. (Y/n) glanced down, noticing that she did indeed spill some milk on the counter when she was pouring it.

“I’ll get it,” she replied, looking back up at Katsuki. “Do you need water?”

Katsuki scoffed but smiled. “No.”

She thought she might as well confront him directly. Her resentment was teeming, “Why’d you hurt Izuku?”

The befuddled, faraway stare that Katsuki held hardened a little when she said that. He almost felt guilty. He swallowed, the alcohol loosening his lips more than he liked.

“He pissed me off,” he gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. Careless but honest.

Katsuki was always honest but never careless. (Y/n) decided then that she didn’t like this side of Katsuki. Her stomach felt tight.

“So, if I ever piss you off, you’ll do the same to me?” She snapped.

Katsuki shook his head, scowling at the ridiculousness of her question. He still stood in the doorway, almost caging her in, and (Y/n) noticed just how small she really was to them, to this big house. They stared at each other. Katsuki blinked then sighed, walking over to the fridge. (Y/n) was acutely aware of his movements, like she was locked in a room with a starving lion that circled her. The lion hadn’t pounced yet, but she could feel it in her bones that he was still eager to attack.

He shrugged, reaching for a beer from the bottom shelf – in the way back of the fridge.

“Guess not,” was his answer.

That wasn’t good enough for (Y/n), but she knew not to press the issue right now, not while he’s like this.

He popped open the beer bottle, threw away the cap, and plodded to the living room. She heard him collapse on the couch with a sigh.

(Y/n) stayed away from him for a while.

[incendiobrock]

Shower Chats {Matt Sturniolo}

Request: 28) A sitting on the floor and chatting while B takes a shower w matt pls !!

Prompt(s): same as request!

Warnings: none, just fluff!

A/N: PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS!!

Matt had been filming with Chris and Nick ever since you could make it to their house. You always claimed to be the boys number one fan, but sometimes you missed hanging out with your boyfriend. You had a long day at work and you knew that when you got off you could go see Matt, which was the only thing helping you get through your shift.

You hadn't anticipated however, that there would have to be a last minute film session for the boys Wednesday video. Nick had sat down to edit the video they filmed the day prior, realizing that no audio was captured. You laid in Matt's bed as the three filmed some sort of challenge in the kitchen.

After an hour or so had passed, Matt made his way into the bedroom, "We are done filming now babe, do you mind if I take a shower really quick?" He asked, grabbing some fresh clothes out of his closet. You pouted at him, remaining in your spot on the bed, "But Matt..." You whined, feeling extra needy tonight.

"Awww, don't pout! I promise I'll be quick!" He reassured you, now standing in the doorway so he could make his way to the bathroom. The frown didn't let up as you wished Matt would just drop everything and cuddle you, but you knew he wouldn't do that until he had his nightly shower. "I'll come with you then." You stated, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and walking towards him. He opened his mouth to protest before you spoke again, "Please Matt? I really miss you, I just want to hang out with you. I don't even have to get in, I just want to sit on the floor."

He chuckled, bringing you into a hug and swaying you side to side, "Okay baby, let's go then."

The water began to steam up the mirror as you found solace on the bathroom rug. You pulled your knees into your chest as you looked straight ahead at the wall, hearing the water run down the shower drain with a slight gurgling noise.

"You know, today at work , there was this customer who spilled an entire gallon of milk. It spread all the way down the aisle because it fell out of the cart."

"Wow, did you have to clean it all up?" Matt asked you, intrigued in the story.

"Well yes, but get this! Not only did the whole carton spill but the guy who dropped it ended up slipping on it too! He was trying to help me by using some paper towels, I felt so bad but we were both laughing about it. It felt like it was straight out of a cartoon!" You began to laugh, recalling the events from earlier today.

As you continued to yap about other random things, Matt listened whole heartedly. He was happy to have your company for his nightly shower, and you were happy to finally be spending some quality time with your boyfriend.

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee II

part two to this fic

Summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

warnings: some plot mostly smut 18+ MDNI

notes: this fic takes place in fantasy land where pinv doesn't end up in pregnancy ok thank you have a nice day. wrap it up in real life ok? im obsessed with this pre-outbreak Joel. I feel like I read & edited this til my eyes were bleeding, please lmk if you find mistakes

The evening rush had just died down when Joel walked through the door of the coffee shop again that day, his presence filling the small space. It felt easier, more relaxed now that he’d gotten used to coming around more. 

You glanced up from wiping down the counters, already feeling the exhaustion from a long shift settling into your bones.

“I thought we were meeting later?” you asked, arching a brow as you tossed the rag over your shoulder.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter, arms crossed, his hazel eyes flicking over you—messy apron, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly frizzed from the long day.

“Figured I’d pick you up,” he said, ever casual. “Walk you out.”

You let out a small groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “But I smell like coffee and milk and—” you sniffed your sleeve dramatically, “—probably cleaning supplies. Real cute first date material.”

Joel smirked, one hand rubbing along his jaw. “Well, I smell like sweat and sawdust, so maybe it’ll cancel out.”

You snorted. “If you say so,”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to suffer through it together.”

That made you smile, warmth creeping up your neck despite yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he added, his voice dipping a little softer. “Second date, I’ll take you somewhere fancy. But tonight, I got somewhere I think you’ll like,”

You swallowed, your heart giving a little unexpected flutter. A second date. Meaning he had plans on seeing you way more than just for one night. And damn did you like the sound of that.

“Fine,” you sighed, pretending to be more put out than you actually were as you untied your apron. “But if I smell like an espresso machine all night, that’s on you,.”

Joel just chuckled, stepping back to let you close up.

You expected him to take you to some hole-in-the-wall diner or maybe just grab a quick bite somewhere. But instead, he walked with you down the quieter streets of the small downtown, until he stopped next to a small, tucked-away Italian restaurant with a hand-painted sign and a cozy glow spilling from the windows.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t trying too hard—it was the kind of place people probably came to for years, passing it down like a family secret.

“You ever been here?” he asked as he held the door open.

You shook your head. “Didn’t even know it existed.”

The second you stepped inside, warmth wrapped around you—the scent of garlic and tomatoes simmering low, fresh bread baking, the low hum of conversation filling the intimate space. String lights hung loosely across the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over the rustic wooden tables. A candle flickered at every one, pooling small halos of light between plates of pasta and glasses of deep red wine.

“You eat here a lot?” you asked him as he stepped in behind you.

Joel shook his head. “Did some work on the building a few years back. Owners fed me a few times.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Keep comin’ back when I can.”

As if on cue, an older man in a white apron emerged from the kitchen, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw Joel. He walked straight up to him, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that made your brows lift.

“Miller!” the man greeted, grinning wide. He rattled something off in rapid, affectionate Italian, gesturing around the restaurant. Joel huffed out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“Good to see you too, Sal,” Joel said.

Sal patted his shoulder again, his thick fingers pressing into the fabric of Joel’s shirt like he was testing its strength. "Still workin’ with that stronzo fratellino, eh?"

Joel chuckled. “You bet.”

Sal scoffed, shaking his head. “Tsk. He was never as good with his hands as you.” He turned to you with a wink. “My best man here, best muratore in town! Fixed this place up when the siding was fallin’ off my dannata walls! Quick, clean—like an artista, eh?”

Sal laughed when Joel only shook his head, a red flush creeping up his face as he looked at you apologetically.

"Sit, sit! Please, eat whatever you like! I get you wine—" Sal finally let go of Joel, waving over the hostess with an urgency like he was hosting royalty.

“You’re quite the celebrity, Joel,” you teased, glancing up at him as the two of you followed behind to your table.

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I promise I didn’t bring you here for that—the food’s just real good,”

“Uh-huh,” you smirked, amused, as the hostess stopped at a cozy table by the window.

Sal came back over with a bottle of wine, winking at you before heading back toward the kitchen. “Enjoy dinner, eh?”

You watched him go, then turned back to Joel, arching a brow. “So, you’re with your hands, huh?” remembering what the man said a few minutes ago.

Joel picked up the menu and hid his face. “Don’t start.”

You bit your lip, amused, and looked down at your own menu.

The dinner itself was nice.

The kind of nice that snuck up on you, unfolding in a way that felt natural, easy, like you’d done this a dozen times before.

Joel was quiet, soft spoken, but asked a lot of questions. Not just the polite kind, but ones with weight, ones that made you pause before answering. He wanted to know how you got into coffee—if it was something you always loved, or if it just happened. What made you decide to open your own shop instead of working somewhere else. If you liked being your own boss, if it was worth the stress.

And he listened, really listened, nodding as you spoke, his hazel eyes steady on you. Every now and then, he’d ask something that made you stop and think, something no one had ever really asked before.

“You ever picture yourself doin’ anything else?” he asked at one point, twirling the stem of his wine glass between two fingers.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I guess I never thought about it. The shop is mine. My whole world’s kind of wrapped up in it.”

Joel hummed, watching you carefully. “But it makes you happy.” It wasn’t quite a question, but more an observation. 

“Yeah, yeah it does.” you answered with a smile, then tilted your head. “What about you? Do you like what you do?”

Joel exhaled through his nose, thinking. “Don’t know if anyone likes workin’,” he admitted, then nodded a thanks to the waiter as he set down your meals. “But can’t think of anythin’ else I’d be doin’. Ain’t the type to be sittin’ in a stuffy cubicle and all.”

You smirked, picking up your fork. “Oh, I don’t know… I think you’d look real nice in a suit and tie.”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head as he cut into his food. “Yeah? And what, you see me sittin’ at some fancy desk, makin’ phone calls all day?”

“I dunno,” you teased, shrugging. “Something about you in a tie just works for me.”

Joel shot you a look, amused, before taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll show up to your shop one day in one, just to surprise ya,”

“Oh, that’ll be the day,” you giggle. 

The rest of dinner went by too quickly for your liking.

Joel told you about the different jobs he’d done over the years—how he liked working with his hands, how there was something satisfying about building something solid, something that would last. There was a quiet kind of pride in his voice, nothing boastful, just a man who knew the value of hard work, of making something real.

In return, you traded stories about your most memorable customers—the regulars, the weird orders like the ones who asked for 50 different flavors in one iced coffee. Joel countered with tales of difficult clients, stubborn contractors, and one particularly bad job where a homeowner swore they knew more about construction than he did.

And when Joel chuckled at a particularly funny story, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, you began to realize—God, you liked seeing him like this. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, he liked being here with you, too.

And before you knew it, the waiter was coming by with the check, and the night was ending far sooner than you wanted.

The evening air was warm as you stepped out of the restaurant, your cheeks still flushed from the wine and the lingering glow of good company. Sal had insisted on treating you both with large helpings of his homemade tiramisu—claiming you couldn’t leave until you were properly fed.

Joel had muttered something about not needing dessert, but you’d watched him polish off his plate without complaint.

Outside, the street was quiet, the warm light of the restaurant spilling out onto the sidewalk as the door swung shut behind you.

“That man is dangerous,” you groaned, placing a hand over your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

Joel huffed out a small laugh, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Could’ve said no.”

You scoffed. “And risk offending him? No way. I’d be blacklisted for life.”

Joel smirked, shaking his head before glancing around. “Where’s your car?”

You blinked up at him. “Oh, I walked.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “You walk to work?”

“I live close by,” you shrugged.

Joel exhaled sharply, already looking like he was making up his mind, “Let me drive you—”

“Oh, no, it’s really okay—”

“I insist,” he said, and before you could argue, his hand found the small of your back.

Heat shot through you, electric despite how warm and gentle his palm was. You exhaled, smiling, and knew there was no point in arguing. Not when he was looking at you like that—stern, certain in a caring sort of way. So you didn’t fight it.

He walked beside you, his stride slow, deliberate. The night air was perfect with summer warmth and a cooling breeze, the quiet hum of the city stretching out around you, but you couldn't help the way that everything else had narrowed down to him—the sound of his boots against the pavement, the occasional brush of his hand near yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not quite touching.

He made a little conversation, but he was quieter now, more thoughtful. He asked about your family, where they were, if they ever came to visit. If you had much of a life outside of the shop or if it kept you too busy.

You answered easily, finding that with him, it was just...easy.

Joel didn’t fill the silence just to talk—he let it linger, let you breathe, let it settle into something comfortable, something that felt like it had always been there. 

By the time you reached his truck, you realized just how much you liked that about him. And how much you liked him.

Joel reached for the handle, about to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

But then he hesitated. His fingers curled around the handle, but he didn’t pull. Instead, he exhaled, slow and measured, his jaw ticking as he turned to look at you.

His gaze flickered—your eyes, your mouth, then back again—just in time for you to feel it, that slow-building heat simmering between you.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

And then his hands were on you.

One at your waist, the other coming up to cradle your jaw, his rough thumb sweeping over your cheek as he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of weight that sent your heart slamming into your ribs.

The breath hitched in your throat, and for a second—just a second—you forgot how to do anything but feel.

It was slow but heavy and intentional, like he’d spent all night trying to fight the urge and finally gave in. He kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. It was steady, claiming, not the kind of frantic desperation you’d expect from someone who couldn’t hold back.

No, Joel took his damn time.

His lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, pulling you further into him. His hand slipped from your jaw, fingers threading into your hair, holding you exactly where he wanted as he kissed you again, his tongue venturing past your lips, sliding along yours in a way that made you turn molten.

You gasped softly, pressing closer, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, needing something to hold onto because God—he was overwhelming in the best way.

Joel groaned low in his throat, like he’d finally let himself indulge, like this was something he’d been starving for. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding you until your back hit the truck, his body bracketing yours against the cool metal, broad and solid and so damn warm.

“You gonna open the door or what?” you teased breathlessly, between kisses, your lips brushing against his.

Joel huffed, his nose dragging along your cheek. “You in some kinda hurry?” Joel’s lips ghosted along your jaw, trailing down the column of your throat, pressing slow, lingering kisses against your skin, each one making you melt further into him.

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, and Joel chuckled low against your neck, his breath hot. “Didn’t answer my question.”

You barely remembered what he asked. Your brain was fogged, drowning in the way he felt against you, the way his body crowded yours against the truck, solid and warm.

“No,” you managed, voice breathless. “No hurry.”

“Good to hear,” Joel muttered.

And then, in one fluid motion, he scooted you over, swung the door open, and hooked an arm around your waist—lifting you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. A startled gasp left your lips as he set you down onto the worn leather seat of his truck before you could even process the shift.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Joel climbed in after you, the door shutting with a heavy thunk, sealing you both inside. The space between you was nonexistent—all heat, all him, his presence pressing into you, crowding you in the best way.

You thanked whatever lucky stars you had that it was dark, that Joel’s truck had tinted windows, because none of it would’ve stopped you anyway. Not when you were already leaning back into him, your fingers trailing up, brushing over the scruff along his jaw.

Joel’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling, anchoring himself as he kissed you deeper, tilting his head to taste you fully. His other hand found your jaw, rough fingertips dragging over your skin, tilting your face toward him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

You sighed against his mouth, pressing closer, nails scratching lightly against the denim of his jeans. He groaned, low and deep, swallowing the sound. Then, suddenly, his grip shifted, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you forward until you were straddling his lap. 

A breath hitched in your throat, hands bracing against his broad chest as your knees pressed into the seat on either side of him. The new position had you flush against him, heat radiating between you, the space inside the truck growing impossibly small.

Joel’s eyes flickered up to yours, searching, giving you a chance to stop this before it went any further.

But you didn’t want to stop. So you kissed him again. Deeper. Hungrier.

Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs, rough palms trailing over denim now, gripping just enough to make your breath catch. His mouth was hot, insistent, kissing you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the taste of you, the way you sighed his name when he tilted his head to deepen it.

“I don’t usually—” you began, panting as you broke from the kiss for just a moment, lips still brushing his. “I don’t usually do this on a first date, just so you know.”

“Me neither,” Joel muttered quickly, voice rough, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers laced through your hair, tangling at the base of your neck as he pulled you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear.

His other hand trailed down, squeezing at your waist before gripping the waistband of your jeans. His fingers dipped just under the fabric, teasing, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Think you can get these off for me, sweetheart?” he rasped, his voice thick with want.

Your breath caught, “H-here?”

Joel huffed, smirking just a little, his thumb brushing back and forth over the waistband, slow and teasing. “Ain’t nobody around. Just us.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, steady, certain. “Unless you really wanna stop.”

He was giving you another chance to pull away, to tell him no, and you knew if you said the word, he’d back off immediately.

But hell no. You shook your head, breathless. “No. No stopping.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, approval flashing in his darkened gaze. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the button of your jeans, fumbling slightly. Joel exhaled a soft chuckle, amused but patient, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your throat as his hands ran up and down your thighs, steadying you.

You finally got the zipper down, lifting your hips slightly as you started pushing them down, but Joel’s hands took over, firm and unhurried, hooking his fingers under the waistband and dragging them down your legs in one slow, smooth motion.

The second the denim was gone, his hands ran back up your bare thighs, gripping at the flesh of your ass, his gaze locked on you like he needed to commit this to memory.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked, pupils blown wide as he devoured you with his eyes. “Knew you had a great ass—couldn’t stop starin’ at it this mornin’.”

A flush spread through your body at his words, pooling low in your belly, but you could barely focus, too wrapped up in him, in the way he felt beneath you. Despite his claim earlier that he smelled like sweat and sawdust, you thought he smelled addicting—pure masculine heat, sweat and musk, with the faintest hint of whatever cologne or deodorant still clung to his skin. It was him, and it made you dizzy.

Heat curled low in your belly, especially when he tugged you down against him, pressing you right where you needed him, letting you feel all of him—hard, thick, pressing into the thin barrier of your panties.

A quiet moan slipped from your lips, and that sound did something to him.

“Oh, you make the sweetest little noises, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he rocked you against him, his hands guiding your hips so you could feel just how much he wanted you.

His lips found your neck again, kissing, nipping, working their way lower, and you whimpered when they reached your shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem of your top.

“Think I wanna see more of you,” Joel muttered, voice thick and rough like gravel. His hands dragged up your sides, thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs. “Lift your arms for me.”

And you did—because you wanted more too. Needed it.

Joel peeled your top off slowly, taking his time, hissing when your bare skin was revealed beneath the dim light filtering through the truck’s fogged windows. His hands ghosted over you, calloused fingertips brushing along your collarbone, down to the tops of your breasts, his eyes dark as they devoured you.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his rough fingers slipping beneath the band of your bra, teasing. You squirmed in his lap, eager, desperate for something, arching into his touch.

Joel huffed a quiet chuckle, his lips curling as his fingers came up to pull the cups of your bra down and began palming your breasts in both hands, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“That feel good, baby?” he rasped, watching your reaction as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, circling, teasing.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Joel smirked, then pinched lightly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. You moaned, head tipping back, arching into his hands.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in, dragging his lips down the exposed column of your throat, over your collarbone. Then he licked along the swell of your breast before finally closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking slow and deep.

You gasped, gripping his hair, your hips instinctively grinding down against him. The friction sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly, the hard line of him pressing right against you.

Joel groaned against your skin, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before switching to the other, giving it the same slow, torturous attention.

“Joel,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against him again, the need in you growing unbearable. 

He hummed, his hands sliding down, gripping your ass, grinding you down harder against him, “You’re so needy, baby,” he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “Bet you’re already drippin’ for me, huh?”

You nodded frantically, panting, whimpering, grinding against him, desperate for more.

Joel’s hand slipped between you, his fingers slipping to cup your covered mound, feeling the dampness that had seeped through the fabric. He sucked in air through his teeth as his fingers pressed firmly, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This all for me?” he teased, “Huh?”

You gasped when his fingers would press and sometimes skim along your bare skin, running along the lace, teasing, pressing just enough to make your thighs shake.

“Please,” you breathed, writhing against him, desperate for more.

Joel hummed approvingly, slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers spreading through your slick folds, teasing your clit before dipping lower, barely pushing inside.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice rough. “Takin’ my fingers so easy.”

You moaned, body shuddering as he continued to rub gentle circles around your clit before finally pushing two fingers inside, stretching you just enough to make your breath catch in your lungs. Joel groaned, watching you, drinking in every sound, every gasp, his fingers working slow and deep, curling just right to have your whole body shaking.

Your hips rocked into his hand, grinding against the heel of his palm, pleasure building fast, coiling tight in your belly. He smirked, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles that had your legs trembling around his hips.

“You gonna come for me, already, sweetheart?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Come on my fingers before I fuck you?”

You gasped, “Yes, yes–” your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body locking up as the coil snapped in your belly, pleasure ripping through you in waves as you cried out, coming hard against his hand.

Joel groaned, his head falling forward to kiss your sweaty skin, feeling the way you pulsed around his fingers, his cock twitching hard beneath you.

“That’s my girl,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, slick and shining in the dim light. You stopped breathing as he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slow over his fingers. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, like he was ruined by the taste of you.

Once he licked his fingers clean, he brought them to your lips and rasped, “Open,”

A wicked smile crossed your lips as you parted them obediently, letting him slide his fingers onto your tongue. Joel groaned low in his throat, watching you intently, his pupils blown wide as your lips closed around his digits.

You didn’t just take them—you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue teasing along his fingertips, slow and deliberate.

Joel’s smirk fell as his whole body tensed beneath you, muscles going taut as his free hand dug into your hip, hard, like he was barely hanging on. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, and suddenly, his slick fingers left your mouth, his hand moving to your throat—firm but careful—pulling you down to him, kissing you again. It was hungry, needy, open and wet, all tongue and heat, like he had to taste you again, like the last few minutes of teasing had finally broken something in him.

You moaned against his mouth, shifting in his lap, feeling the thick, solid length of him pressing right where you needed it most. Joel hissed at the friction, his fingers tightening on your waist.  Then his hands moved, gripping your hips, holding you there as he worked open his belt, the soft clink of metal making your stomach tighten. The zipper came next, slow and deliberate, the sound loud in the thick silence between you. You watched as he freed himself, his thick cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and dangerous, his jaw tight with restraint, “Still want this baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing his face, his neck, nipping and biting at his throat as his hands worked himself. You lifted yourself up to give him better access to you. “Want you so badly, Joel.”

He grunted at the sound of his name on your lips, so low and wrecked and needy for him. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers beneath the soaked fabric of your panties, dragging them to the side. His other hand gripped his cock, dragging the tip through your slick pussy, teasing, pressing just enough to make you whimper.

“Joel—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint, positioning himself right at your entrance. “Go on. Take what you need.”

You didn’t hesitate, sinking down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch until he was seated deep inside you.

Joel’s head fell back against the headrest, his hands flying to your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there.

“Jesus fuck,” he gritted out, his thighs tensing beneath you as he held himself still. “You’re—fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight,"

You moaned, feeling every inch of him pulsing inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he rocked his hips up into you, and your head snapped up at the force, making you look up just in time to see a familiar face out the back window.

“Oh shit—Tommy.”

Joel’s entire body went rigid, “Please do not tell me you just—“

“No—Tommy,” you hissed, ducking down as far as you could, but it only added more friction, making Joel’s cock pulse inside you.

He grunted sharply, his fingers digging in harder to steady you, his jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react to the way you just squeezed around him.

Then, a truck door slammed shut.

“Hey, ain’t this Joel’s?” Tommy’s voice rang out, just outside, “Thought he left hours ago,”

Joel’s eyes snapped open, wild and alert. In an instant, his arm shot out, slamming the lock button with a sharp click.

Your heart raced, your hands scrambling to tug your shirt back over your head as Joel shifted beneath you, one hand still firm on your waist, the other reaching toward the door controls.

“Is he in there?” Tommy muttered to himself. The sound of boots crunching against gravel got closer.

Joel rolled down the window—but only a few inches, just enough for Tommy to see his face and nothing else.

Joel’s expression was thunderous. “The fuck do you want?”

Tommy’s brows raised. “Damn, hello to you too,” he muttered, squinting between the tinted glass. “I been callin’ you. You never got back to the landscaper—”

Tommy blinked. His brows lifted slightly.

“Well, hell,” he said, smirking. “That the coffee shop girl?”

You, still catching your breath, gave a little nod, “Hey Tommy,”

Tommy grinned. “Joel never shuts up about your coffee.”

Joel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

Tommy’s smirk widened, shifting his weight onto one hip, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, you guys comin’ or what? Bout to head down to Jameson’s Bar down the street with some of the guys.”

The good thing was—from Tommy’s point of view—it probably just looked like a hot and heavy makeout session in the truck. He couldn’t see that Joel was, in fact, inside you. Your eyes flicked up to Joel’s face, still locked in frustration, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged. And just because you could, just because you had to—you rocked your hips just a little. Joel choked on his own breath, his whole body seizing, his hands flying to your waist in warning. His eyes darted to you in a look that might kill you if you didn’t feel the betraying feeling of his cock twitch inside your cunt.

You bit your lip, eyes flicking down at Joel, voice sweet as honey, “Was just about to.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his fingers pinching your ass hard in retaliation. You yelped, causing your body to twist up and into him, and he had to swallow his groan.

Then, suddenly, Tommy’s expression shifted.

His eyes flicked between the both of you—Joel looking wrecked, breath uneven, a little too flushed for the cool evening breeze, and you, doing your best to keep your face neutral while subtly adjusting yourself in his lap.

Tommy’s head tilted. His mouth parted.

And then, slowly, a knowing smirk crept onto his face.

“No way,” he breathed, realization dawning. “You are not—”

“Tommy—” Joel ground out, voice low and warning.

But it was too late.

Tommy burst out laughing, doubling over, hands on his knees.

Joel exhaled sharply, hands twitching on your waist, his patience hanging by a thread. “Swear to God—”

You, on the other hand, were trying very, very hard to keep a straight face.

Tommy finally straightened up, wiping at his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. “Man, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Get outta here,” Joel said between his teeth.

Tommy held his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back from the truck. “Hey, hey, I ain’t judgin’—I just never thought I’d see the day my big brother was gettin’ it on in a goddamn parking lot like a damn teenager.”

Joel groaned, glaring daggers at him. “You done?”

Tommy smirked, but started backing toward his truck. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He shot you a wink. “You take care now, darlin’.”

You smiled sweetly. “I will, Tommy.”

Joel huffed sharply, clearly done with this entire situation.

You kept an eye on Tommy as he finally slid into his truck, still shaking his head as he fired up the engine. Before he pulled away, he called out—

“Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do!”

Joel slammed the window up before you could reply.

The second Tommy’s taillights disappeared down the road, Joel let out a long, deep breath, his grip on your waist still iron-tight.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You giggled, biting your lip, still settled in his lap, still pulsing around him.

Joel’s gaze snapped to you.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice thick, dark.

You blinked at him innocently, then, just to test him, you rolled your hips slowly, feeling his cock move deep inside you again. Both of you moaned at the feeling.

“You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

“Mmm but you love it,” you smiled.

Joel growled, his patience finally snapping. His hands tightened, yanking you down against him, grinding your soaked heat over him slow and deep.

You gasped, your fingers flying to his shoulders, nails digging in as he began to set a rhythm, his hips rocking up to meet yours, filling you over and over again.

“Fuckin' hell, girl,” Joel gritted out as your forehead dropped against his, “You love this, don’t you?”

You could barely breathe, pleasure pooling low and hot, winding tight in your belly, “Y-yes, feels s–s–so good,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster, chasing the high that had been aching inside you since the moment he first touched you.

Joel’s lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan that tore from your throat as his hips snapped up into you, deep and slow at first, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. You whimpered, fingers fisting in the shoulders of his shirt, clinging to him as the pleasure started to coil, winding tighter and tighter with every drag of his cock inside you.

“Oh god,” you gasped, barely able to breathe, barely able to think beyond the feel of him filling you, stretching you, hitting the perfect spot over and over.

“That’s it, baby—just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, his arms wrapping around you as he rocked up to meet you.

You moved with him, rolling your hips, your body seeking more, chasing it, the friction and heat spiraling higher, hotter, pleasure building until it felt like you were seconds from snapping.

Joel must’ve felt it, the way you were trembling, the way your body clenched tighter around him, because his grip on you tightened, guiding you faster, pushing you closer, until—

“Come on now, hunny–you all talk or you really gonna cum?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. “Let me have it, wanna feel you.”

And that—his words, his voice, the command in it—was what undid you.

A sharp, wrecked moan tore from your lips as the pressure snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your whole body shuddering and twitching as you clenched tight around him, pulsing, shaking, coming undone in his lap.

Joel groaned loudly, his head tipping back against the headrest, his jaw tight, his breath shattering as he thrust up into you, once, twice—

And then he followed, his grip bruising on your body as he buried himself deep, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he came, spilling hot inside you, his whole body locking up before relaxing, spent, wrecked.

The truck fell into silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing, the sticky heat between you, the feel of his arms still gripping you, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a huffed-out chuckle against your chest. “Yeah.”

You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you moving, just breathing each other in, the moment settling between you.

Finally, Joel ran a slow, warm hand up your spine, his voice still gravelly when he spoke.

“So.” A beat. “We ain’t goin’ to Jameson’s, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head against his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

Joel smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Good.”

[secretamongthestars]

Third Times the Charm [ i ]

You and Spencer run into each other at a coffee shop.

WARNINGS: show typical violence

Spencer Reid x Teacher!Reader | meet-cute | 2.6k

A/N: hello!!! first post ever on here! hope you guys enjoy it! the rest of this should come out by the end of the week.

masterlist

The bright sun softly shone through the multicolored foliage. As the early autumn breeze whisked by, the fallen leaves twirled over the road as a car whizzed by. The temperature was finally cool enough for you to pull out your collection of sweaters, and you smiled as you made your way to the coffee shop.

While you were new to the city, the workers there had already begun to memorize your order: English breakfast tea with a splash of milk. You moved here around a month ago, still during the summer.

In the past few weeks, you had plenty of time to spruce up your new apartment, with little knickknacks throughout the rooms, a reflection of your personality, as opposed to the plain, empty box you had first moved into. Not only did you have enough time to prepare your classroom, but also to explore and familiarize yourself with the city. That was the plus side of being a teacher: your summers were almost entirely free.

Upon opening the door to the store, the scent of coffee and an array of syrupy flavorings greeted you. After placing your order, you began to make your way to the front of the store, hoping to grab a seat while you waited. If you didn’t have to arrive at school in approximately thirty minutes, you would grab a seat right by the window (where you likely would’ve taken a long nap).

While daydreaming about the comfy window seat, you were too busy to notice the large frame walking right towards you.

By the time your head turned back to the direction of the counter, you had walked right into the man, who coincidentally seemed just as distracted as you were.

As you crashed into each other, both of your bags fell in the collision, spilling their contents all over the coffee shop floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you apologized as the two of you rushed to pick up the mess on the ground. The man in front of you tucked his hair behind his ear as you both stood up, realizing he was quite tall. He was the most attractive man you had seen since arriving in the city.

He had a soft smile on his face as he replied, “No, no, I should’ve been paying attention. I was too focused on my phone.”

“Work?”

“Yeah,” he let out a small laugh. Eyeing the lanyard sticking out of your bag, he asked, “You teach?”

“Yeah, I started at a new high school about a month ago,” You told him.

“High school? How’s that? Most people are trying to get out of there. I know I was,” he told you, making you laugh.

“Honestly, I couldn’t wait to graduate high school, but after working with kids in the summers between and after college, I realized I loved working with them. Plus, that was the most appealing job to me as a Sociology major; the legal field wasn’t exactly my thing,” you revealed to him.

“You have a B.A. in Sociology? So do I.”

“Huh, that’s neat.”

“Yeah, I also have Ph. Ds in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering and a B.A. in psychology,” he rattled off his degrees as if they were items on a grocery store list. You stared at him in shock.

“Really?” He nodded in reply. “How old are you? Is that even possible?”

He opened his mouth to say something else as a barista called a name and an order from behind the counter, the first half of which you didn't quite catch: “Large black coffee, no cream or sugar!”

“Sorry, that’s me,” he walked over to grab his steaming drink, making his way over to the counter perpendicular to the order line, which had an array of napkins, utensils, and sugar packets. Your order was called shortly after, and you went over to the counter. You watched as Spencer poured packet after packet of sugar into his drink. It wasn’t until probably the sixth one that he finally stopped reaching for the dwindling bowl of sugar packets.

Walking over to him with your drink in hand, you joked, “Sure you put enough sugar in there?”

He let out a laugh as he put the lid back onto the cup.

“Interestingly, recent research suggests that the addition of sugar in coffee not only masks the bitterness of the drink but actually changes the molecular structure of the coffee,” he stated proudly.

“I’m sure enough sugar to make a small child fall ill wasn’t what those researchers had in mind,” you jested.

A loud ringtone interrupted your conversation as Spencer moved to answer the phone call.

“Hey, Garcia,” he paused. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“I, uh, I have to go, but it was nice meeting you,” he said, turning back to you. He began making his way towards the coffee shop's door. Just before he exited, he turned back to you to say, “Sorry again for running into you!”

You stared as he jogged down the street, wondering if what just happened was real.

౨ৎ

Slumping in your chair, you finally let out a sigh of relief. While you loved your job and the kids were great, some days it felt like your first day on the job all over again. As you sat in silence, taking in the morning's events, your stomach gurgled, prompting you to reach for your bag. Instead of rifling through it, you decided emptying the contents on your otherwise neat desk would be easier.

Once you found your lunch, you set it aside and put the items strewn across your desk back into your bag. However, as you moved to put your book into the bag, you realized that it was unfamiliar to you. Apparently, an unintended book exchange had occurred.

The cover of The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury stared back at you from your desk.

You realized you had no way of contacting him, as you two had barely swapped names, never mind phone numbers. You thought about returning to the coffee shop: maybe he had also realized the mistake and would return there. Regardless, you weren’t complaining about another excuse to return to the store to grab your go-to drink (and maybe a pastry, too, this time).

You reached for an extra copy of Cat's Cradle on the shelf behind you. Today you would just have to do without your notes and annotations.

౨ৎ

The B.A.U. had just wrapped up their most recent case in Santa Monica, California. After the discovery of three indistinguishably burnt bodies by the pier, the local police department called them in. It turned out that an ex-fireman was their unsub, believing that the homeless population of Santa Monica was plagued and had to be exterminated—the trigger for this being his tuberculosis diagnosis following his rescue of several homeless people from a fire. The team was finally able to relax after the case had closed.

Everyone was getting some much-needed rest while the jet was returning to Quantico. Hotch and Rossi were sitting towards the front of the plane, Emily was asleep, J.J. was grabbing a hot cup of coffee, and Morgan and Reid were seated across each other towards the back of the jet. Reid reached for his copy of The Illustrated Man but pulled out a copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle instead. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s wrong? Are the scientific inaccuracies of ice-nine too hard to ignore?” Morgan jested.

“No- well, while ice-nine isn’t real, there’s a similar phenomenon that occurs on the ocean floor; it’s called the ‘Icicle of Death’; when polar sea ice forms, the separated brine sinks and freezes the water around it. Once it reaches the ocean floor, it spreads and forms an ice sheet, freezing and killing any organism that doesn’t evade its path. It’s quite neat,” Spencer prattled on as Morgan stared back at him.

“Reid- I mean, why did you look at the book like you didn’t bring it with you,” Morgan explained.

“Because I didn’t.” Morgan was now confused as well.

“What do you mean you didn’t? Who’s book is it then?” Morgan questioned him.

“I don’t know; I can’t find my copy of the Illustrated Man either; it’s weird I put it in here the morning we left and then-” Reid cut himself off, realizing when the mix-up must’ve occurred.

His cheeks turned a rosy pink as he remembered what had happened before work that day. After the initial embarrassment of the situation subsided, he finally got a good look at your face and realized how absolutely beautiful you were.

You wore a plum-colored sweater that complemented the large burgundy frames of your glasses, which now sat slightly farther down your nose as you continued to pick up the items on the coffee shop floor. You brushed the baby hairs on your forehead aside as you stood, now looking back at Spencer. The rays of sun coming through the window behind you made it appear as if you were glowing.

“Then what…?” Morgan snapped him out of his memory.

“It was nothing. I bumped into someone Monday morning, and we dropped our stuff. I guess we mixed up our books in the rush to get our stuff back in our bags,” Spencer tried to backtrack, not wanting to reveal who he had bumped into.

“Was this ‘someone’ in high school?” Morgan asked, trying to pry more information from Spencer.

All he got back was a confused, “What?”

“The last time I remember seeing Kurt Vonnegut was when people had to read it in High School. Plus, the back of that book has a High School's stamp on it,” Morgan added. Reid looked about, ready to jump off the jet in mid-air. “So spill. Is she a librarian or something?”

“Fine- we walked into each other at the coffee shop that Garcia goes to sometimes,” Spencer began to reveal. “We both dropped our stuff on the ground, and I saw her teacher's I.D. lanyard and asked about it. That’s all.”

“Doesn’t seem like that’s all,” Morgan pressed. “You get her number or anything?”

“What?” Reid’s face dropped.

“Well, clearly you were into her, even if you don’t want anyone to think that, so did you get her number or anything?”

“No… I didn’t think about that. Plus Garcia called us in for this case as we were talking,” Spencer sounded dejected. He realized he didn’t even know your name, never mind your phone number.

“Well, what was her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You didn’t even ask her for her name?”

“I was a little preoccupied, okay!” Spencer was about to switch seats on the jet. “Besides, she probably felt bad for bumping into each other.”

“Okay, whatever you say, pretty boy, but if I hear about a new girlfriend, I want five dollars,” Morgan joked.

“Whatever,” Spencer huffed, opting to open the book instead of continuing to talk to Morgan. He initially thought this was just another standard high school copy of the book, but he quickly realized you had several annotations throughout the book. Seeing as the novel was only around 300 pages long, he decided to read it and your annotations in the remaining length of the flight. As for getting the book back to you, he would just have to return to the coffee shop in hopes of running into you again (hopefully figuratively this time).

౨ৎ

The end of the work week had finally arrived, and you couldn’t be more elated. However, the weather did not seem to reflect this sentiment.

The past few days consisted of perfect fall weather: mild temperatures, partly sunny skies, and a cool breeze here and there. Yet, the weather took a drastic turn upon the arrival of the much-anticipated end of the week. The sky appeared to be dark gray and pouring frigid rain. It was only September, yet the temperature had plummeted to 58 degrees.

When you finally got into the cozy coffee shop and placed your order, you were relieved and finally given a break from the dreary weather. As you waited for your drink, you saw a familiar face dumping what appeared to be cupfuls of sugar into his coffee. The past few mornings, you had returned to the coffee shop each morning, book in hand, but Spencer was nowhere to be found.

Bringing your large cup of tea over to the counter, you began to speak. “You know, there has to be research telling you how bad that is.”

He turned towards you. “Yes, unfortunately, then it would be entirely ingestible.”

“Have you ever tried adding milk? Or drinking tea?”

He seemed perplexed as if he had not considered those options before.

“Anyways, where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you the past few days,” you told him, adding a spoonful of honey to your tea.

“Yeah, sorry, I was away for work,” he told you. He seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Well, I have something to give you,” he looked confused as you reached into your bag, pulling out his copy of The Illustrated Man from the depths of your bag. “Apparently, we swapped books the other day.”

“Oh, yeah! I left your copy of Cat’s Cradle back in my apartment, but I meant to return it to you,” he told you. “I mean, if you want, you can keep my book in the meantime if you haven’t read it- if you want to. It’s quite an interesting read: it’s about a man covered in tattoos drawn by a woman from the future, and at night, the tattoos come to life and tell a story. It’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve read many of his other stories like Fahrenheit 451, The Veldt, and The Pedestrian, but I haven’t gotten around to that one,” you told him, taking the book back and placing it into your bag. “Thanks.”

Glancing at your watch, you realized you had to be on your way lest you wanted to be late for homeroom. Lord knows the chaos that would happen if you were even a minute. Half your class would probably be gone.

“Hey, I gotta go, but let me give you my phone number so we can figure out when to return each other's books,” you told him. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to stay in touch with him. After all, this man was so handsome you wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming. However, he just stared at you. You weren’t sure if you said something wrong, so you began to backtrack, “Only if you want to, I mean. We don’t have to if that’s weird or anything, sorry-”

“No, no, that would be great,” You were glad he cut your ramble short. He pulled out his phone, and you quickly typed in your name and contact information.

“It was nice running into you again,” you told him, turning around to leave the coffee shop. Realizing you never asked for his name, you swiveled to face him again. “Wait, I still don’t know your name. It’s only fair that you tell me now that you know my name and my phone number.”

“It’s Spencer,” he told you, smiling.

“Spencer,” you tested it out. “Well, Spencer, I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, you were already out the door and heading down the street, leaving a smiling Spencer behind.

[part ii coming soon!]

[chukys-mouthguard]

surprised nobody wrote anything about cowboy rempe at the stampede. he looked 🙃. would love a written concept on bumping into him there and maybe he spills a drink on you but you end up getting dragged away and he catches up to you later on in the night and you end up dancing and maybe he even wins u a goofy prize playing ring toss or a corny game.🤠

step right up

1.7k words

pairing: matt rempe x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

note: i didn’t not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes 🫶🏼

Spinning around the dance floor, you grabbed a hold of your cowboy hat, holding it tight to your head as you swayed along to the familiar line dancing song. Trying your best to pick up the steps from your friend as she was the expert of the group, always prepared to break out any line dance she can at the drop of a hat.

Throwing your head back laughing you opted for doing your own thing, moving to the music as you sipped your drink. You had forgotten just how fun the Stampede could be; drinks, live music, fair food and games. It was the highlight of the summer.

“Oh shit-”

As you’d done one too many spins you found yourself crashing into a taller boy, towering over you as his chest was smacking you in the face. Your drink spilling all over your shorts, thank god they were black denim and it wasn’t too noticeable.

“I am so sorry, oh my gosh. Are you okay?”

You smiled up at him, laughing as you wiped your hand on your shorts, drying it as best you could though it would do nothing for the stickiness that would remain.

“I’m okay, honest. I’m the clutz not paying attention to where I’m spinning. Are you okay?”

Looking up at him you’d not noticed before how handsome he was. His black denim jacket just tight enough to show off his build, paired with a black t-shirt and blue jeans then topped off with a cream colored cowboy hat. He had a mustache that you’d found fitting on him, though you normally weren’t a fan. Perhaps it just looked good with his choice of outfit for the night.

“Me? Yeah, I’m great, no complaints. Um, sorry about your drink, and your clothes.”

You shrugged it off, little did he know you’d not paid for the drink so you didn’t mind. As the boy went to offer you a replacement your friends were pulling you off into the crowd as a familiar song began playing.

Waving him goodbye he softly smiled, mentally punching himself for not being quicker to speak and get your name. As he watched your figure fade into the crowd he sighed, hoping that somehow he’d cross your path again.

“Matt, dude, you good?”

Ty appeared at the boy's side, offering him a beer as he tried to pinpoint what his friend was looking at. Not seeing anything but a sea of people he gave up, now standing in front of Matt to try and get his attention.

“Sorry, um, yeah. I’m good.”

Matt made a point to keep his eye on you, hoping he’d have another chance to make up for his clumsiness. To get your name and drink order, perhaps even your number. But as he saw you and your friends heading for the door, he knew that window of opportunity was closing.

“Ty, let’s head out, yeah?”

Ty didn’t bother questioning Matt, assuming he’d grown tired of the bar they were at and wanted to make the rounds. Matt’s strides were swift as he maneuvered through the crowd of fairgoers, Ty having to rush to keep up. Unsure as to why Matt was in such a hurry, with it only being eight o’clock and the fairgrounds open until at least one in the morning.

Suddenly Matt came to a halt, Ty finally catching up to him as he followed Matt’s eyes. Seeing you and your friends crowded around a carnival game that surely was rigged. The objective? Knock down the milk bottles without them falling off the pedestal, practically impossible.

“Ohhh, I see. You’ve got your eyes on a girl huh?”

Matt smiled, slightly embarrassed as he tried to shrug off his friend’s comment. Watching you point out a stuffed animal elephant holding a peanut that you so desperately wanted. The only way to win that prize was to be absolutely perfect in the game, but with several drinks in your system, Matt could tell by your first throw you weren’t leaving a winner.

“I spilled my drink on her Ty, I wanted to try and repay her, but she left the bar before I could.”

“Soooo you’re stalking her now to buy her a ‘sorry I’m a tall lanky clutz’ drink?”

Matt shot Ty a glare at his comments, leaning against a nearby building as he continued watching your failed attempts at winning your desired prize.

“Not stalking Ty, simply a man after something he wants. And I hate to say, I want her number. She’s beautiful.”

Ty flicked the brim of Matt’s cowboy hat, rolling his eyes as he found a spot against the wall to reluctantly join him. “Okay lover boy, so what’s your master plan to get her number? Star at her from afar all night and hope she notices your eyes burning a hole in the back of her head?”

You’d handed another ten dollars to the worker, getting another three chances at the prize you’d been listing over. A smile on Matt’s face as he watched your friends giving you a pep talk, laughing at how hard you were working for this prize. Though he admired your persistence for the plush that surely wasn’t worth the money.

“Well, that’s thirty bucks down the drain. I need another drink!”

Matt watched as you and your friends made your way across the path to a new bar, finding a place at the counter to order a round of drinks. Once the game had been available and reset, he walked up to the counter to take his chances. Ty rolled his eyes with a groan as he joined Matt at the booth, praying that he’d somehow get lucky and win so that the boys could get back to drinking.

“I do not come to the Stampede for carnival games dude, and you’re twenty-two years old by the way. Trying to win an stuffed animal elephant for a girl…who if I had to guess-”

Ty glanced back at you and your friends tossing back shots at the bar, turning back to Matt as he studied the baseballs to find the perfect one to throw.

“She’s definitely at least twenty-one, maybe if we are lucky she is older and can get you to act your age for once.”

“Newsflash Ty, she was just playing this same exact game so shut your goddamn mouth for five minutes so I can concentrate.”

Matt took a deep breath, stretching his arm a bit as if he was getting ready to pitch the final game of the World Series. Ty just shaking his head, praying that no one passing by was catching a glimpse at how embarrassing this scenario was becoming.

“Fuck!”

Matt’s first throw not even close to the tower of milk bottles, a soft chuckle coming from Ty as he tried not to add to his friend’s frustration. Simply giving him some halfhearted words of encouragement as Matt picked up his next baseball.

As you finished your second drink at the bar, you glanced out at the crowd passing by, a tall figure catching your eye at the booth of the game you’d just thrown thirty dollars at. Only for you to realize it was the culprit who had spilled your drink at the previous bar, mainly since he was the tallest man at Stampede and was too hot not to notice.

You watched as he handed over another bill to the worker as he was handed three more baseballs, his friend clearly fed up with having to watch the taller boy failing continuously at the game. Chuckling to yourself you’d ordered another round of drinks for your friends, keeping an eye on the two boys wondering how long they’d keep at it before calling it quits.

The next ten or so attempts continued similarly to the first, only getting slightly better as Matt had managed to knock over a maximum of two of the three milk bottles, though they’d not stayed on the table as was the point of the game. Ty had grown restless as he watched Matt reach in his pocket for another ten dollar bill, patting him on the shoulder as he decided to head over to the bar you were occupying and grab a drink.

“Hey! Is he having any luck over there?”

You smiled at Ty as he shook his head, throwing a shot back before he leaned against the bar to see Matt still trying his darndest to win you a prize.

“Well he’s doing it all for you, you know? He’s dropped like almost fifty bucks all to make up for your ten dollar drink he spilled on you back at the other bar.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Matt, seeing him hang his head as he’d thrown away another ten dollars in failed attempts. Needing to put a stop to things before he dropped a hundred dollars trying to win you a no more than fifteen dollar stuffed animal that you did not need in the slightest.

“Hey, cowboy.”

Matt turned to see you now next to him, a smile on his face as you were the last person he expected to see at his side.

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

“Isn’t it obvious, trying my luck at becoming an MLB pitcher.”

You laughed at his sarcasm, seeing a ten dollar bill in between his fingers and quickly reaching for it. Tucking it in the breast pocket of his jean jacket, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“While I appreciate you embarrassing yourself at this carnival game that is surely rigged just to repay me for a drink…did you ever think of just buying me a drink?”

Matt scratched his head as he’d realized that would’ve been the logical thing to do, despite Ty telling him several times it had only gotten through to him coming from you.

“I mean, that would’ve been the more obvious route to take. But, I wanted to stand out I guess? Be different than just another guy offering you a drink?”

Nodding your head you smiled up at him, his smirk causing you to blush but luckily your cowboy hat hid your cheeks from him.

“And how did that go? Wanting to be different and all?”

“Wanting to be different ran me about fifty bucks.”

He awakedly rubbed his hands together, watching as you reached towards his pocket pulling the ten dollar bill from it and flashing it at him between two fingers.

“Well, lucky for you the drink I like will only cost you less than ten.”

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Masterlist Part 2/?? Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: None, but will contain explicit content 18+, in future chapters, read at your own discretion.

Your alarm didn’t wake you, it was a loud knocking at your door. You jump up, tapping your phone screen to see that it was only 6am. Now you’re gonna be groggy all morning, your alarm was set for 6:45. You trudge to your door, ready to rip down whoever it was that woke you up. When you open the door you see Bucky with bright eyes, two coffees in hand. You quickly read the label and see that it’s your favorite cafe in Brooklyn. How did he get coffee from there this early?

“Good morning.” He chirps out, reaching one of the paper cups forward. You cross your arms in front of you, refusing the coffee. “How can I help you?” You say curtly. You take in his attire, he was ready for training. You could almost laugh, him and Steve take their sponsorships too seriously, can’t be seen exercising in anything other than Under Armor.

“I still felt bad about last night and thought, maybe I could repay you by helping you get a head start today.” The smirk on his lips did nothing to ease your agitated mood. “I said we’re even, it’s fine.” You say, wondering if he was being genuine. It was far too early for all of this. You rub your sleep filled eyes, pushing your hair behind your ears. “Anything else?” You say, wanting to get some more sleep before the day of literal hell you were about to endure. Physically, you were the apex, but mentally and strategically, not so much.

You couldn’t wield a gun, you’d been studying a makeshift dictionary of all the military terms Steve and Bucky say during missions. You couldn’t take directions. Besides overpowering the strongest guy in Kansas during a championship, you’d never learned how to combat fight. You have no clue where to hit someone or how hard so you don’t do fatal damage. You were written up on your first mission.

Your adrenaline was pumping and you thought the gunman was bigger than what he was, causing you to dent his chest in, instantly killing him. The punch was meant to lay him out, not kill him. You’d been reminded time and time again during initial training that the goal was to subdue, shield rehabilitates these criminals.

So now training was mainly a mental game for you. Sizing people up, you were no use against magicians or witches but physically, you worked hard to discern people’s capabilities. You’d never trained with Bucky or Steve before. You’d never fought against a super soldier, you couldn’t even imagine their strength. Therefore, you’d never opted to train with them.

“No, I’m sorry for waking you.” He says, his eyes tell a completely different story. But you hear some sincerity in his voice. Maybe you were being too harsh to him. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, yet. You were the one who assumed he was drunk, you were the one who enjoyed him innocently helping you clean his mess. If you put aside all your wild ideas, Bucky had actually been very nice to you.

While no one had made any progress in talking to you or really even introducing themselves, Bucky was willing to sit with you and enjoy a bowl of cereal, alone. No other outside force willing him to be there. He’d apologized after spilling milk on you, helped clean it. He wasn’t even looking, and you were speed walking behind him, what if it truly was just an accident. Here you were being rude to the only person who’s shown you kindness.

You wanted to hit yourself. Mentally you were painting your back porch red. Guilt was slowly filling you as you watch him drop his head, nodding as if he’s finally realizing the situation, you wanted him to leave. But not anymore, “Let me get dressed, 5 minutes!” You wait for him to look up at you before you close the door in his face, you could see his smile return, but this time it looked triumphant and genuine.

You want to play this game with him, you knew that much. So why not make a big move and wear your new sports bra set with matching spandex shorts. You’d never worn just a sports bra, and always wore leggings. Your best friend convinced you that you looked good in it, so Nike gladly took your money. This would surely prove your suspicion, were his intentions innocent?

You looked in the mirror, pushing and pulling at your breast in the tight spandex. Your cleavage had to be perfect for this to work. You rolled down the waistband of the shorts, letting it show off your curves. You run to the bathroom to do your morning routine. Walking out of your door in less than the 5 minutes you estimated. You had no idea why you had such a pep in your step. As if you were rushing back to him.

“Thanks.” You say taking the coffee from his hands. He stands there frozen as you turn for the elevator, he watches your ponytail sway across your shoulders, then he lets his eyes travel down, to see your back dimples on display. This one he would fight for, his improvised plan didn’t work last night, he’ll admit his ego was hurt a little by his advances not working. So he gave you another chance with coffee this morning.

It almost didn’t work, he was showing real sadness when you rejected him again, but out of self pity, not because you were being rude. But it worked, and you folded. Judging by the way you’re dressed, he knew you were playing along with him. He would win in the end, he always does. Besides, you’d be an adversary opponent and the best prize.

You wish you could’ve told him black coffee wasn’t really your style, but you had too much pride, sipping it empty on the way down to the training floor. Bucky would probably go left to the gym, and you’ll go right, to the simulation room. It was handy for someone like you. Training with real people was a liability, so holograms it was. “See you later.” You nod to him.

“Where you going? I thought we were training together.” He sounds disappointed. “Oh you meant like the two of us? I thought it was a wake up call, not an invite.” You scratch the back of your neck, kind of embarrassed. “I figured you could use the change of scenery.” He laughs.

You follow him into the gym, a place you’d only been once, during the orientation tour. It was huge, needing the capacity to handle super hero’s being thrown around. Bucky walks over to a bench, setting down his coffee cup and shedding his windbreaker jacket. You toss your empty cup in the trash can beside the door, slowly walking up to him. “So what did you have in mind?” You ask, nervous as to what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

“First some basic warm up drills, then I figured I could help you with that strength depth perception.” He grabs two jump ropes from the wall and tosses one your way. “Fury was worried about you at the last meeting.” You roll your eyes, of course he was.

“I didn’t know you discussed me at meetings.” You say, starting to jump rope. He joins you a second later, going miles faster than you. “We discuss everything, especially things that could be a liability.���. He wasn’t wrong, it rubbed you wrong that you couldn’t defend yourself at these meetings. But you understood why they did it, you killed a man.

“Right.” You huff out, stopping and dropping the jump rope, you had no endurance. Bucky continues for another minute, the rope turning into a blur as it whizzed around him. You ran the track around the perimeter of the gym, till you legs felt like jelly. Again, Bucky kept going, literally running laps around you.

When he came to a jog in place in front of you, you took in the fact that no sweat had formed on his brow, meanwhile you left a puddle in the floor when you stood up. “Okay, let’s start with defense.” He brings his fist to face level and you match his stance. “We both know you have offense covered. But what about protecting yourself. Other people are strong too.” He made a good point.

You had beginners luck, dodging the first punch Bucky threw at your stomach. The second, not so much. You suck in a breath when his metal fist makes contact with your rib. “You’re supposed to block!” He sounds upset, like he was the one who just got hurt. “Yeah I got that.” You wheeze out, dropping to your knees, clutching your stomach.

Just as you’ve almost composed yourself the door to the gym swings open. “Are you ready for complete destruction, son?” It’s Steve walking in, but his face immediately drops when he sees you. “Excuse me.” He’s obviously embarrassed. You just look at Bucky and try to hold in a laugh. “Seriously?” You whisper, his cheeks are red but he nods.

“I’ll take that as my cue.” You say, waddling over to the vending machine in the corner. The blue on the Aquafina label reflected in your eye. You’re gonna die if you don’t get a drink. You tap your Apple Watch to the card reader, typing in A5, as you watch your water bottle be mechanically maneuvered around through a glass window you hear whispering. “She needs a snack already?”

You don’t know who said it, just that someone did, you didn’t turn around. Preferring to pretend it didn’t happen, you grab the water from the machine, drinking the whole thing in a couple chugs. You smash it between your hands, completely flattening it to the width of paper. It was loud, the cracking of the plastic, it silenced their hushed words. As you toss it into the trash can beside the door, you turn around and address both men.

“Thirst and hunger are two different things, wouldn’t you say?” And you leave, pushing past Natasha in the hallway as you make your way to the simulation room.

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