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buckyshoneybunny · 30 days ago

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Spooky Secrets & Sweet Treats

College!Quarterback!Bucky Barnes + Curvy!College!Reader

Summary- You and the gang decorate for Halloween and host a Halloween party. During which a heated argument starts up between you and Bucky, revealing some hidden truths. Will these new truths lead to a new relationship and a fresh start between you two, or will it become worse than before?

W.C.- 3653

Warnings- Smut, unprotected sex, poorly written smut

A/N- Hi! I really hope you guys like this, I honestly don’t know how to feel about this, like I love it but I also hate it lol. The picture above is roughly what the living room looks like, I designed it myself on a designing website. The other pictures aren’t mine. This will be part one of a series. Part two will be for Thanksgiving and part 3 Christmas, and so on. Not proof read. The back story I used is my own sooo yeah. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Oh and happy Halloween!!

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Having not eaten all day, your stomach rumbled in protest. You sat in the middle row of the lecture hall, Nat on one side, Yelena on the other. This was the last class of the day, your ADHD medicine wearing off causing you to be even more impatient. Your right leg bounced mindlessly under the table; Natasha placed her hand on your knee with a warning glance. You stop and mumble out an apology.

You couldn’t help it honestly, today was Halloween, not your favorite holiday but still. You were sizzling with excitement. You, Natasha and Yelena (your roommate's), Nat’s boyfriend Steve and his two friends Sam and Bucky, were coming over after class. The guys would be making the food while you girls set out the decorations and got everything ready. That’s right, you were having a Halloween party!

You were never one for parties, not that you didn’t like them you just weren’t ever invited in high school. No one wanted the shy girl at their party. But since meeting Nat and Lena you’ve grown more confident, you were still shy, that was just who you are, but you’re a little more outgoing than you once were.

There was just one tiny problem, Bucky. You loathed that man, and according to him the feeling was mutual. Every little thing he did annoyed you, he made sure he went out of his way just to piss you off. With his stupid, cocky smirk, sparkling white teeth, gorgeous shoulder length, chocolate brown locks that he let grow out since meeting you. Even those shirts that seem three sizes too small, showing off his delicious abs that you just wanted to li-

Stop that!

You mentally climbed out of that rabbit hole, not wanting to go too deep. No matter how much you wanted to get a taste of the star quarterback, you hated each other and that was all it was ever going to be.

After what you’re sure is another 20 minutes, the professor finally dismisses everyone. You quickly gather your things and dart out the lecture hall, Natasha and Yelena hot on your heels.

Shivering as you stepped outside, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, the cool autumn breeze blew about. Fall colored leaves littered the sidewalk, crunching under your feet.

You smiled. You loved fall and winter, everything just seemed happier. Holidays back-to-back, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. You loved Christmas. The sparkle of Christmas lights, curling up on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching Christmas movies, you just loved it.

The party started at nine, so you had roughly five and a half hours to get the supplies, set everything up, and get ready yourselves.

“You excited?” Nat asks, drawing you away from your thoughts. You three walking to your house on the far end of the campus. It was a two story, three bedrooms, two bath house. Nat and Lena’s parents were rich, having some sort of high-end job in the government.

“Duh,” you laugh.

“Even though he’s going to be there?” Yelena pipes up. You sigh.

“I’m determined to not let him get to me; I am going to have a good time tonight.”

“You say that every time,” Nat snickers.

“Yeah well, I mean it this time, he’s not ruining this party for me,” you defend.

“You say that too,” Yelena giggles.

“Say what?” The annoying voice you know too well asks before you can say anything. Turning around you find Bucky, Steve, and Sam following you guys. Steve wraps an arm around Nat, kissing her forehead. Sam ruffles Yelena’s hair.

Clad in his signature black leather jacket, the six-foot something wall of muscle wore blue jeans, red henley under the jacket, and his combat boots. This isn’t fair, why does he have to look so hot? His hair pulled into a small bun at the base of his neck.

“Nothing James,” you roll your eyes. You could see the tick in his jaw, he hated being called by his first name.

“Come on, princess,” he spits bitterly. “Keeping secrets from me now?” You just huff and keep walking in the direction of your house.

Princess. That name made your blood boil, you despised it, and he knew it too. It wasn’t the name that bothered you really, just the way he said it, like you were some spoiled brat. You most definitely weren’t. You didn’t even know why he called you that, but that was the name he’d given you the night you first met.

You weaved your way through the mass of people, trying to reach the kitchen. Natasha had dragged you to this party, claiming it was way past due to meet the gang. Yelena wasn’t any help, going right along with Nat’s plans. When one sister had her mind set to something, the other backed her up and to say they were a force to be reconned with was an understatement.

Before you could reach the kitchen, you smacked right into a wall, or what you thought was a wall until two strong, veiny hands shot out to steady you before you could fall. Looking up you see a pair of steel blue eyes boring into yours. The man had a sharp, clean shaved jaw, his brown hair short and fluffy, and stuck up in all different directions. His full, pink lips moved, saying something you didn’t quite catch. You realized you had been staring for too long.

“What?” You ask loud enough over the music.

He chuckles. “I said, are you alright, ...?”

“Oh! I’m Y/N, and yes, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me,” you smile. “And you are?”

His smile falls. “Bucky,” he says gruffly. “Watch where you’re going next time, princess,” he spits out bitterly before expertly weaving through the crowd.

You stood there confused for a moment, wondering what the hell happened. Natasha told you to give him some time and he’d warm up to you. To everyone’s surprise, he never did.

Your shoulders relaxed as you breathed a contented sigh as you stepped inside your shared home. A fireplace with shelves lined on either side. When you moved in Nat and Yelena let you decorate, you had taken interior design in high school so you knew how to make certain things work. A light grey couch sat in the center, with a coffee table in front of it, and a TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace.

Nat let you take the lead, directing everyone. She knew how your OCD and ADHD could get, especially when it comes to planning things like this, everything had to be a certain way. Bucky rolled his eyes and mumbled some smart remark under his breath. Once everyone was assigned a job you all got to work.

Steve and Sam went to the store, Bucky started to chop firewood to help keep the house warm-you liked using that rather than the heater, made it cozier, plus it saved money. Nat and Yelena worked on getting the Halloween decorates out of the shed. You did a quick clean, making room for the foldable tables Steve and Sam were getting. You scolded Bucky when he tracked mud through the house, to which he flipped you off.

Once the boys got back and the decorations were all set up and tables put up, everyone got ready. Natasha and Steve dressed up as superheroes, Sam as a Falcon, ever the nerd he is. Yelena dressed up as a vampire, Bucky was, well you didn’t know what he was. All you knew was he’s half naked and making your panties sticky.

And last but not least, you dressed up as a bunny, well sort of. You wore a soft pink short cotton skirt with a bunny tail, a matching cotton crop, and bunny ears. Steve painted on a bunny nose. You were very unsure of the outfit at first, but Nat and Yelena, both assured you that your curves look delicious in that outfit.

Once everyone was dressed Steve and Sam fired up the grill to start cooking, Nat and Yelena setting out the condiments and other various food items. Bucky got the fire going, having paused to help Steve and Sam set the tables up when they got back. You added a few finishing touches to the decorations, moving a few things, stuff like that. You idly wondered why Bucky was so quiet, usually he’d have you clawing your eyes out by now.

But Bucky was in his own little world. He leaned back on his haunches once the fire was set. He glanced over at you, taking in your outfit. His tight ripped jeans did nothing to hide the effect it had on him. He'd seen you glance at his bare chest multiple times by now, he didn’t have a costume in mind. He just threw on some old, tight, ripped black jeans, if anyone asked what he was he’d think of something.

He watched as you moved a few decorations, a pout on your soft pink lips. Your brows were furrowed in a frown, he wanted to reach out and smooth it with his thumb. He shook his head to try and clear those thoughts, looking away before you could catch him.

Yes, he hated you, but that didn’t mean that your curves didn’t make his cock throb and his head fuzzy. The way you looked in those heels, how they made you sexy legs look long and soft. But you were this self-entitled princess who always had to have her way, it pissed him off, everyone loved you. Even your creative writing professor you guys had seemed to adore you, it made his blood boil that you were the teacher's pet.

If only he knew.

He remembers how you had him all figured out before you guys even met.

Bucky scanned through the crowd of people in his house. He, Steve, and Sam threw a celebration party for winning last night's game. Steve had invited his girlfriend, which she invited her sister and their roommate.

He was quite excited to meet this gorgeous angel Natasha always talked about. He spotted Natasha and Yelena; the third girl had her back to him. He could only assume the third girl was you, your soft Y/H/C pulled into a braid. The blue jeans you wore hugged your thighs, your tank top hugging your chest and curves.

He smirked, you really were gorgeous. As he walked closer, he could hear your honeyed voice. He frowned when he heard what you were saying.

“I don’t see how I could like someone like him,” you tell Nat. “He’s probably some fuckboy like every other football player. Some jerk with a high ego.”

Your tone sounded disgusted; he huffed a breath. Any excitement he had for meeting you was long gone. He was so fucking tired of people associating him with the stereotypical quarterback. He wasn’t a fuckboy, far from it.

He'd only been with a few women, contrary to what everyone believed. He didn’t fuck them and leave, no, his ma raised him better than that. He took them out, treated them right, the perfect gentlemen. He was dedicated to any and all his relationships, they just never seemed to work out.

So, when he ran into you later that night, literally, he put up the wall that he hides behind and brushed you off.

A couple of hours later the party is in full swing, people dancing, music blaring. You step out on the back patio, needing a break from the noise and people. You sit in one of the outside chairs, looking at the stars. You mentally scold yourself for not bringing a jacket as you shiver. You feel fuzzy as the whiskey you’d been drinking takes effect.

A few minutes later a sweaty Bucky opens the sliding glass door. He pauses when he sees you. He huffs and closes the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You turn away from him, ignoring his presence. You hear the door open a couple of times before you feel a warm leather jacket being set over your shoulders.

The jacket smells of leather and pine, mixed with something else, Bucky. You turn your head to see the man himself standing behind you.

“I don’t need your stupid jacket, James,” you huff and move to slide said jacket off. He places his big hands on your shoulders, keeping the jacket in place.

“Can you for once stop being a fucking brat and just take the goddamn jacket?” He snaps, feed up with your constant attitude.

You shove his hands off you and stand up. “What the hell is your problem?!” You yell, finally at your breaking point.

“My problem?!” He yells back. “My problem is you’re a self-entitled brat who always gets what she wants. Who thinks she knows everyone, well news flash princess, you don’t.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You making assumptions about me before you even get to know me.” You give him a confused look so he continues. “That night at the party you told Nat how you couldn’t ever like someone like me, how I’m an egoistic fuckboy. I'm so fucking tired of people making assumptions.”

Guilt settles into bones; you hadn’t realized he heard you. “Oh, Bucky I’m so-”

“No, you know what?” He continues, cutting you off. “You’re the one with the high ego, everything just has to be your way, doesn’t it? This has to go there, that over there. Everything has to be perfect for little miss sunshine.”

“Wh-”

“No, you’re gonna shut the fuck up for once and listen to me. And it’s not just that, you always get what you want, everyone fucking babies you and adores you. Even the fucking professors love you. I mean it’s pretty obvious you’re a teacher’s pet-”

“Enough!” You yell, your voice breaking. He goes quiet, panting from his rant.

“I’m not the teacher’s pet, she checks up on me to make sure I’m okay. After she read my memoir for our memoir assignments, she started to check up on me. Making sure I was safe where I’m at, if I had a trusted adult to talk too.”

“Awe, did the princess have a few bad memories that she wrote about? Hmm? Well news flash princess everyone has bad memories, that doesn’t excuse that you always get what you want.”

“You know what, fine! You wanna know why I am the way I am?” You yell. “Growing up I didn’t have a fucking say in anything! I was treated like a piece of property; my own father called me his property! I did everything for them, I was 14! 14 and if I didn’t cook or clean no one would.” Your voice breaks.

Bucky goes to say something but you keep going. “My own grandmother got my entire family to hate me and I was only 3, it took years for them to finally figure the truth out. My father would guilt trip me, manipulate me. I took care of my mother at her lowest, watched her on the verge of death and she still favors my brother. Nothing I ever did was good enough! I could go on forever about how fucked up everything was, James.”

Bucky stands there in shock. “Wow...I um...” He doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry for judging you before I got to know you, I really am. But do not call me a brat and say I always get what I want.”

You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Both of you stand there in silence, filled with guilt at how you’ve both been acting.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You nod.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

Neither one of you knows who moves first, but one moment you’re looking each other in the eye and the next Bucky has his tongue tangled with yours. He tastes of beer and cake, you moan softly, Bucky swallows the sound like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever had.

His hands, both metal and flesh, grip your ass and pull you closer. His hard bulge grinds against your naval, he groans. When the need for air gets too great, Bucky pulls back and starts to litter your neck with sloppy wet kisses.

“My room,” you shudder. “Now.”

“So fucking bossy,” he grumbles. He throws you over his shoulder and goes back inside. No body pays any attention to either of you, too busy dancing or too drunk to care. He takes the stair two at a time.

You get bold and slide your hands into his jeans, groping his bare ass, he had gone commando. He slaps your ass in retaliation, causing you to yelp. He finally reaches your bedroom, kicking the door shut and tossing you on the bed. You slide up the bed, shoving the pile of stuffed animals onto the floor as you go. Bucky kicks his boots off and climbs on top of you.

Bucky attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting. You moan and pull the hairband out of his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands of hair. You tug and he groans, you tug harder and he bites down hard.

He kisses down your collar bone to your chest, yanking the crop top off you and groaning when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping as it hardens. You let out a high-pitched whine, the pain mixing with pleasure. His metal hand kneads the other, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference. He switches, giving them both the same treatment.

Once he’s had his fill, he starts to kiss down your stomach, hands groping your thighs.

“These fucking thighs,” he grumbles. “You have any idea how many times I thought of these gorgeous, thick thighs. Fuck.” He’s thought of you?

He pulls your skirt down your legs, tossing it somewhere behind him. He gently undoes the straps on your heels and slides them off. He slides his hands up your thighs, one hot and one cold, he spreads them and groans. He leans forward and licks at your clit through the fabric of your panties, moaning at the taste of your juices.

“Bucky!” You gasp and grip his hair.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles, mouthing at your pussy. He grips your ass, holding you up and shoving his face into your pussy even more. The fabric gets wetter, a combination of your juices and his saliva.

You whine his name and tug his hair, pulling him back up to kiss him, moaning at the taste of your juices on his tongue.

It’s a mess of messy kisses and fumbled movements as Bucky kicks off his jeans and socks, pausing to grind his cock against your panties. Your eyes widen when you see him, he chuckles and tells you not to worry, he’ll fit.

“Bucky please,” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I gotta prep you first.”

He rips your panties off, flinging the ruined fabric to the other side of the room. He reaches down with his flesh hand, spreading you slick over your clit before carefully inserting one finger.

You moan and wiggle your hips, impatient. He flicks your thigh and tells you to be patient. He adds a second finger, then a third. He slowly opens you up, teasing and torturing you, rubbing that spot that makes you see stars.

Two can play this game.

You reach down and grab his aching cock, thumbing the slit and spreading the precum that’s gathered there. Bucky moans and bucks his hips, cursing.

“Bucky please, I’m ready. Just fuck me already.”

He grunts and pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “I’m clean but I have a condom in my wallet.”

You shake your head. “I’m clean and on birth control.”

“Fuck yes,” he groans. He flips you over, making you face down, ass up. “This fucking juicy ass.” He slaps your ass a couple of time, groping the juicy flesh hard.

“Please,” you whine and push back against him.

Finally, he takes pity on you and lines himself up. He slides all the way in on one thrust, both of you moaning. He gives you a moment to adjust before setting a brutal pace.

He angles his thrusts just right and you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good in your whole life. He leans down, plastering his sweat slicked chest to your back and kisses your shoulder and neck.

You make little noises with every thrust, fueling Bucky, his own groans and grunts right next to your ear.

“So fucking tight, shit,” he moans into your shoulder. He reaches down and starts to rub tight circles over your clit and you cry out.

“Fuck! Bucky please!”

“Can feel you squeezing me, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm?”

“Yes! Please! I’m so close!” You moan.

“Cum.” His thrusts turn even more punishing, if possible, focusing on that spot. Your thighs start to shake. His perfect thrusts and the pressure on your clit push you over the edge. Your eyes roll back, hands griping the sheets so tight they could rip.

Bucky's pace stutters, you clenching his so tight he cums seconds after you do. He collapses on top of you, both of you trembling and panting.

He rolls off you to the side, pulling the sheets over you both and spooning you from behind. You both succumb to sleep minutes later, too exhausted to talk about what just happened.

______

The morning sun shines through your blinds, the birds chirp outside your window. You groan and roll over, not wanting to get up just yet. You reach out for Bucky, only to find cold sheets.

Bucky was gone.

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joelsprettyprincess · 2 months ago

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Thank You, Mr. Miller

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (NSFW)

Joel lets you crash at his house following his birthday grill. You give him an incredibly wet, sloppy, desperate....gift.

Tags: facefucking, rough oral, choking, spit kink, degradation, facial, big fat age gap (college age/mid 50s), no outbreak, modern au, birthday Joel, pet names (babydoll, pretty girl)

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: This is not lore accurate in the slightest, I just really wanted to write about giving Joel head. Please be gentle in criticism, I haven't written for an audience in a long time. And minors DNI OBVIOUSLY!!

"You ready?! We're gonna be late!" your father called up to you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The occasion was a grill at your father's college friend's house for his birthday. His name was Joel Miller.

You'd met him a couple times before; he and your father sometimes got together to crack open some beers.

Ever since you first met Joel, he hadn't left your mind. He was tall and rugged with a dark tousle of hair. His daughter, Sarah, was a little younger than you. Your father had mentioned that she'd just moved into her college dorm.

The last time you had seen Joel was last November, at Thanksgiving. He and Sarah had come over to share a meal. Sarah was friendly but pretty quiet, and you two hadn't hit it off like you thought you would.

Joel...was a different story. Your brain replayed the limited interactions with him over and over, looking for a hidden meaning. Some days you swore he gave you meaningful looks, and other days you yelled at yourself for believing that a man like him was into a girl like you. Someone half his age.

So why were you getting all dolled up, when it would be hot outside and no one would be looking anyway? The same reason you'd bought a whole new sundress for the party, and even shaved. You secretly hoped one man in particular would be looking.

Your father yelled your name again. "Coming," you responded quickly, and added a final bit of mascara. You grabbed your white crossbody bag off the bathroom doorknob and slung it over your shoulders, completing the look. Clomping down the stairs in your wedges, you followed your father out to the car.

It was just you and him going. Your mother didn't feel good enough to go, claiming she "could feel a cold forming." More likely she wanted to avoid being stuck being in the car for an hour. Not that you could blame her.

Still though, you were definitely looking forward to the grill. Even if that excitement was tinged with anxiety.

Soon you and your father were bundled into the car. He was driving since he knew the roads better.

Actually, you'd never been to Joel's house. It was always him coming to see your father, not the other way around. You wondered what his house was like. Probably not big. Traditional? Modern? Cluttered? You had no idea.

Maybe you and Sarah would become better friends. You guys could at least talk about college.

20 minutes had passed and you were already getting irritated. Your father had elected to put on the most boring podcast known to man, one about the economy. A man with a way-too-cheerful voice was going on and on about GDP and supply-demand.

Putting on your headphones, you distracted yourself by switching between Twitter, Tumblr, and TikTok. The holy trinity.

And this was how the next half hour was spent: scrolling. Not very productive, but there really wasn't much to see except the highway. Thankfully it was pretty empty on this route; apparently Thursday afternoon wasn't a popular time to travel.

However, this bout of good luck ended as soon as you neared Austin. Traffic went from almost non-existent to congested within a minute. Your father sighed and turned off his podcast.

"Now comes the hard part," he sighed.

The next 15 or so minutes were wasted just inching through traffic. Everyone was trying to get to their exits, and people kept changing lanes at the last minute, or getting into the wrong lane, and the frustration was palpable. You were really glad you weren't driving.

After what seemed like forever, the two of you finally broke free from the highway and got onto a regular road. Soon you were zipping towards Joel's house at a nice speed.

"Did you bring a present?" you asked your dad.

"Nah," he remarked. "Men don't really need 'presents.'"

You scoffed a little at that. "Alright."

Now the sights were a little more interesting. Austin was bustling with activity.

You drove through the urban area for perhaps 5 minutes, then your dad turned and the buildings and crowds thinned out.

Eventually the two of you reached a nice suburb with rows of houses.

Within two minutes, your dad pulled up behind a bunch of other cars that were parked around what was obviously Joel's house.

"We're here," he announced (kind of uselessly).

It was pretty small, as you'd guessed. It was mostly made of brick, just one story, and the front porch was pretty bare bones.

But you could hear voices and music in the backyard. There were some people going up to the house, and the front door was wide open.

You and your father got out of the car and made your way up the sidewalk to Joel's house.

The door was covered with a screen. You opened it and stepped inside, your father closing it behind you.

"Joel," he called. "We're here."

There was no answer. You looked around the room.

It was pretty normal. Your average American house. There was a worn looking green sofa, a brown loveseat that didn't match the sofa at all, and directly in front of you was the kitchen. To the right was a little hallway.

Both the sofa and the loveseat were occupied by various people. "He's outside," someone said.

You and your dad walked into the kitchen, where the back door was. Stepping out onto the patio, you could see there were quite a few people here, of all ages. They must be his neighbors, you figured.

You heard a familiar voice shout your father's name. To your right was him. Joel.

"Joel!" your dad exclaimed, and they quickly embraced.

"Hey, little lady," he greeted you, smiling. Oh, that smile. It could mean a thousand things.

"Hey," you greeted him more shyly than you'd like. "Happy birthday."

He chuckled. "Ugh, don't remind me. Gettin' closer to death ain't no cause for celebration."

Your dad hooted in response.

"Tommy's helpin' me grill, over there," Joel said, pointing to his brother on the other side of the yard. You couldn't help but notice how big and veiny his hands looked-

You shook your head a little. Get a grip.

Joel was explaining some things, but you weren't really listening. Your senses were being overloaded with this man in front of you. That was the best way to describe him- he was very masculine. Big, broad shoulders, a solid build, and his beard made you imagine unspeakable things.

Eventually you asked about Sarah. "I'd love to catch up with her," you said.

Joel shook his head regretfully. "Ah, she's not here. She has class today. She goes to the University of Houston, dunno if your dad told you."

"Oh, that sucks." You nodded. "Well, you can tell her I say hey."

He smiled. "Will do."

For the next half hour, Joel, Tommy, and your dad tackled the grills and made a huge amount of burgers and hot dogs. Tommy made sure everything was organized so everyone was served in an orderly fashion.

You got a cheeseburger, plus some dangerously salty fries and sat at one of the folding tables to enjoy your meal.

Of course everyone here was a stranger, so you were expecting to be left alone. When someone sat beside you, you involuntarily jumped.

It was Joel, and he laughed. "Sorry, baby, ain't mean to scare you like that."

"Oh! Ha, no, you're good," you squeaked, quickly wiping your mouth. Gosh, could you be normal for one second?

"How's college? You're a sophomore now, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. It's going pretty good, even though my classes are getting harder."

"Remind me of your major again..?"

"I'm undeclared right now. Just doing my generals."

Joel nodded his approval. "You know, I never even finished college."

That caught you off guard. "Oh. Wait, really? Then..."

He shrugged. "I dropped out. Didn't have the discipline or the intelligence. I went into an apprenticeship instead."

"Oh, that's definitely a unique path," you remarked.

"Now, don't you drop out," he said sternly. "You're a smart girl."

You laughed. "Not that smart."

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked suddenly.

Trying not to act shocked, you casually answered, "Nah. I don't."

"Good. You're too good for those boys. Too pretty."

You and Joel continued to chat about school and careers for a bit. Your gaze kept darting everywhere; looking at him was like looking at the sun. He was just a halo of light and focusing on him for too long made you nervous.

Finally he left, needing to attend to someone, and your brain ran at a million miles, replaying the conversation, criticizing your voice and responses, deducing anything meaningful from Joel's words. Did he mean something more when he mentioned a boyfriend? Or was he simply curious? Ugh...this stupid crush was driving you insane.

A couple hours passed, and the party slowly died down. By this time it was about 6pm. People started leaving; walking home or maneuvering their cars out of the puzzle that was the driveway and street.

To your dismay, you found your father curled up on the loveseat, way drunker than he should be.

"Guess he had a couple too many beers?" Joel said, chuckling.

You sighed. "I'm really sorry. I dunno what he was doing all this time. I should've checked on him."

"S'okay," Joel assured you. "Do you know the way home?"

"Ah, no..." you admitted, embarrassed. You'd barely been paying attention on the drive home.

"Hmm." Joel crossed his arms and thought. "Well...then you can't leave, can you?"

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Uh– um...I guess not? But I don't want to impose. I can try to find my way back."

But Joel shook his head. "Your dad would be mad if I sent you out there. It gets dark quick these days, y'know. I'd hate for you to get in trouble on the way back. Look...we have a guest room you can use." He looked at your dad again. "I suppose he'll be comfy right there."

Your dad was drowsy, laying on the couch, still in his day clothes.

"There's a bathroom you can use, right across from Sarah's room. I'll show you. If that's okay with you?" He looked for your consent.

"Um...well, if it's not too much trouble," you said.

"Oh, of course not!" Joel insisted. "You can even wear some of Sarah's clothes; y'all are about the same size. It'll be no trouble at all, baby."

There was that word again. Baby. You couldn't tell if it was platonic or not, and it drove you crazy.

"Well, alright. Thank you, Mr. Miller."

"Joel," he gently corrected. "No need to be formal."

He showed you the bathroom and the guest room, then let you shower while he helped Tommy clean up the mess from the party.

As you cleaned yourself, the only thing on your mind was:

This is going to be very, very interesting.

After you got dressed in Sarah's room, you went to the guest room next door and looked around. It was simply decorated, with a double bed and a dresser by the window. You put down your bag and hoisted yourself onto the bed.

Okay. Okay. Taking deep breaths, you thought about your situation. You were basically alone with a very handsome man whose room was a 5 second walk away, a man who may or may not be interested in you, a man twice your age with a daughter the same age as you.

Totally fine, nothing to worry about. He definitely was not going to be on your mind all night.

Laying down, you tried to distract yourself with your phone again.

After about 20 minutes there was a knock at the door. You got up and opened it.

"We finished cleanin' up," Joel told you. He leaned against the doorframe.

He was so tall.

"That's good," you said. "Thank you for letting us stay here, seriously. I dunno what I'd do without you."

Joel gave you that sweet smile again, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "No problem, missy. If you're still hungry, we got plenty of leftovers."

"Oh, that's okay," you assured him. "I'm more than full. The food was really good."

You were trying to ignore the slightly musky, deep smell that was coming from him. And the way that his shirt clung to his chest and biceps. And the way he was looking at you...

"You need anything else?" he asked.

"You've done so much already," you chuckled. "I think I'm all set for the night."

He smiled and nodded. "Well, don't be afraid to ask."

Get a grip, you creep.

Joel was berating himself. This was so not good.

It was more than not good, it was horrible. His friend's daughter, the same age as his own daughter, was in the guest room all by herself and all he could think were dirty thoughts.

It was her fault! Those cute, innocent looks she kept giving him drove him up the wall. Her pretty body, her adorably nervous mannerisms.

All Joel could think about was how good her lips would look wrapped around his cock.

He was pretty sure she felt the same way but didn't want to push it in case he was wrong. Then he'd really be in trouble.

It was going to be a very hard night.

A couple hours passed. You felt too awkward to venture out of the room, so you stayed on the bed for quite a while. Soon it became dark, and you were glad you didn't have to drive.

Feeling thirsty, you decided to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Your dad was passed out on the couch. Joel was in the kitchen as well. Dammit.

"Hey, babygirl," he said. "Need something?"

"Oh- yes, just some water," you requested.

He got a glass down for you. Passing it to your, your fingers touched, and you swore he kept his there longer than strictly necessary.

Joel watched as you got water out of the fridge. You took a nice sip, then sighed. "Thank you."

"Oh, you've got something, right there-" Joel stepped closer to you and gently wiped the corner of your lips with his knuckle.

You could only stare at him as he did this. He was so close you could see the gray hairs peppering his beard.

He let his finger stay there, and returned your gaze.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, just looking into each other's eyes.

Finally you broke eye contact and he stepped back.

"Th-thanks," you stammered.

He continued looking at you. "You're a real pretty girl, you know," he said.

You weren't sure what to say.

Joel took your chin in his fingers, and ever so softly brushed his lips against your cheek.

You made a small noise and he hesitated. "Is this okay, baby?" he asked.

You could barely breathe or blink or do anything but nod.

Putting one hand on your cheek, Joel leaned in and softly kissed you. After a shocked second, you reciprocated, pressing your lips against his.

He sighed, and pressed deeper, gently sucking on your bottom lip. You felt his tongue, and opened your mouth a little, allowing him in.

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed Joel back. He tasted so good, with a hint of toothpaste.

"Oh..." he mumbled, hands going from your face to your back. He backed you up till you hit the counter, and he softly growled, pushing his tongue in deeper.

His hands traveled further down to your hips, and he started caressing your ass.

"So fucking soft," he whispered.

Joel's whole body was pressed against you, and you felt him getting excited.

Finally you broke the kiss, needing air.

"Jesus, this is so fuckin' wrong," Joel muttered. "I'm as old as your dad, for crying out loud..." He shook his head. "And look how excited you got me."

You looked down. There was a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Wow..." you whispered. You had done that.

"C'mere," he said, and pulled you down the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind you.

"On your knees, babydoll." He started undressing, pulling off his pants and boxers. You obediently knelt on the carpet.

Joel pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. You got your first good look at his cock.

First of all, it was big. You weren't inexperienced, but you hadn't encountered anything his size before. It was girthy, with prominent veins going from the groin to the fat, leaking tip. It had a slight curve.

Joel placed his hand on your head. "Open," he ordered, and you obeyed, slightly sticking out your tongue.

He placed his cock on your tongue. You slowly licked up, making him groan.

"Fuckk, yes," he gasped.

You focused on just the tip, licking and slurping at it. His precum was already leaking out.

Joel's hand shot out to grip your hair as you slowly service him, dragging your tongue across the tip and eventually taking it in your mouth, sucking it.

The only noises in the room were Joel's breathy groans and the wet, slurping noise from your mouth as you licked stripes up his fat shaft.

"Just like that, baby," he whispered, stroking your hair. "So fuckin' good."

You took more of him in, looking up at his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brow.

Joel pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, first gently, then he got more impatient and rougher, thrusting into your mouth with little regard to your comfort.

"Yes, fuck, take my fucking cock," he growled. He put his hands on either side of your head and started roughly facefucking you, panting and groaning. His balls slapped against your chin.

You moaned and could feel your mouth producing drool as Joel wildly thrusted into you. His cock kept nearly hitting the back of your throat, and you were gagging a little.

Your drool pooled and dripped down onto your bare tits.

"Agh- mghhrgh-" you gasped, barely able to form a coherent word or thought. The only thing that was going through your mind was cock.

"Choke on it," Joel growled. He was getting mean with it. His cock pushed into your mouth again and again, not stopping or slowing, even as you choked on it. You desperately tapped on his thigh to tell him to let up.

Joel reluctantly did so, allowing you to take several gasping breaths before coaxing it back in. He resumed the pace, a little gentler than before, but still brutal.

By this time he'd backed you up so your head was against the edge of the bed. He was using your mouth like it was a fleshlight, an inanimate object. He was pulling at your hair.

Your eyes were tearing. You couldn't even suck anymore, just had to lay there while Joel used you.

How long had he felt like this? This pent-up frustration?

"Yes, yes, fuck," he chanted, thrusts growing more erratic. He was close.

You deepthroated him a few times, going until your nose was pressed against the hair at the base of his cock. You made sure your lips gripped his cock.

"I'm close, babydoll," he moaned. "Gonna fuckin' cum all over your pretty face. You want that? Yeah?"

"Mmm," you groaned in agreement, blinking several times.

"That's right. Gonna fucking swallow my cum, right? You little slut. You've wanted this cock for a while, huh? S'why you're drooling all over it like a dumb whore."

The insults turned you on. Joel kept thrusting, chasing his release, and your eyes rolled as you struggled to take it all.

Finally, Joel let out a loud groan and pressed himself against your mouth, cumming hard onto your tongue. His hot thick load rapidly filled your mouth, and you moaned softly as his balls twitched. He slowly pulled out and stroked his shaft, letting out a second thick load onto your forehead. It slowly oozed down your face onto your nose and cheeks.

Joel remained where he was, riding out the rest of his orgasm on your face. Soon he'd splattered his cum all over, glazing your cheeks, nose, and lips. Some of it dripped onto your tits.

You inhaled deeply as you caught your breath, amazed at the amount he'd let out. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of his load.

Joel puffed too, slowly coming down from his high.

There was a long silence, then Joel breathed: "Best birthday ever.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #im sorry for mentioning his balls #but be glad i didnt add a ball sucking part #because i really wanted to #18+ mdni

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rebelliousstories · 3 days ago

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Home for the Holidays

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Alcohol

Word Count: 2,190

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: If there is anyone that can convince him to stay home, it was her. And if there was any time for him to stay home, it was now.

Consider Donating: Here

“Logan!”

“Logan! Come back!”

“Logan! Wolverine!”

Too many times had he heard the call of his name by those he loved. Too often did he refuse to turn back to go to them out of his own stupid pride. And, because of this, far too much did he miss out on fun events and memories. That had apparently went out the window the second that he decided to date his girlfriend.

Do not be mistaken, Logan still manages to find ways to slip away from the school in order to not join in on festivities. But it had been greatly reduced since she came along. A mutant who has the ability to decay anything with a single touch, that somehow fell in love with the man who could not seem to die.

Logan was picking up the keys to his motorcycle when she came to fetch him.

“Log, hey honey.” Her wide beam smile threatened to infect his own face, but he let a small tilt of his lips escape.

“What do you want, darling?” He grumbled, plopping his heavy body on the machine.

“Will you stay home with me tomorrow?”

Her eyes begged him, oh so cutely. But he knew what that was code for. It was what she did each and every time.

“Nope.”

“But, Logan.” He began to start the bike up, which drowned her out for a second.

“No. You’re not dragging me to another party.” The rumble of the beast underneath him was a calming feeling and sound. It was part of the reason he went on so many drives on it. Silence was so hard to achieve when you could hear things most people could never.

“Log, wait just a second,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him right where she wanted him. “Please, it’s Thanksgiving. Just stay home with us please. With me?” Her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I don’t do holidays. Besides, I’m Canadian.”

As he drove away, Logan could still see her crestfallen face in his side mirrors. Once he was out on the open road, he tried to put her upset expression out of his mind, but found he could not. This happened every major holiday; even the minor ones too. It was not that he did not like spending time with her, quite the opposite really. But it was that he did not care for the major celebrations.

Too many smells and sounds. People pretending that they wanted to be around him when in actuality they could not care less. As they got closer to the holiday season, people spent money that they did not have to impress people who would still think those same nasty things about them. The falseness of the months of November and December repulsed him.

But the long he went, the more he thought about her. This was their second Thanksgiving together, and he had done the exact same thing last year. Driven off on his bike, camped at a dingy motel for the next two days with a constant supply of alcohol, before returning on Friday. Would it have truly been so bad for him to stay at home with her, and suffered through the festivities?

A ding broke his gaze from the road. He was running low on fuel. Sighing, Logan kept his eyes out for a gas station along the deserted road he was on. There was nothing he hated more than to run out of gas before he got to a place to fill up. Thankfully, that was not the case.

An old station that had probably not been repaired since the mid 70’s came upon his journey. There was a lone truck at the pumps when he pulled in, and another around back meaning that there was at least two people inside the building. For some reason, Logan felt the need to go inside and grab a snack. As soon as he stepped through the door, a warm scene greeted him.

There stood a dad with his children who were laughing while their mom checked out with their snacks. All of them were so happy with each other. Even the woman at the register was smiling because of them. Logan could hear their conversation, and it was all so hopeful. The children were talking excitedly about what they wanted to eat for the holiday, and which cousins they would see. Their father was happily listening to them, and prompting them to talk more about what they wanted to do.

It was so beautiful to watch that he was a little sad that they had left afterwards. He set his pack of beer and chips on the counter, but let his mind wander. Logan had long since given up on the concept of having a family himself, even though he would like one. With his mutation, it was probably not possible. He very well could outlive his own children, or whoever was their mother, and that was not a fun thought for him to have.

Getting the case of beer and food onto the bike took a bit of maneuvering, but the mutant made it happen. Instead of going back to the school though, he just continued down the road now that he was refueled in more ways than one. What was once a peaceful drive meant to clear his head and heart, had quickly turned to quiet for him.

All he could think of now was being home with his girlfriend for Thanksgiving. During the school year, he loved watching her interact with the younger children. It always stirred something in him that he kept dampening down whenever it sprung up. This was part of the reason that he was so reluctant to spend holidays with her.

She always made sure that the kids who had no family to go home to were taken care of; unfortunately, that was a majority of the students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. But she never made them miss out on fun festive activities. He knew that leading up to the big day, her lesson plans always took some time to make decorations. The younger kids had made hand turkeys, while the older ones used the changing leaves outside to make their own collages or scrapbooks.

That was just how she was. Even though her mutation caused destruction, her spirit repaired others. There was nothing that she was not willing to do if it meant making others happy. It often caused some insecurity to sprout in Logan’s chest. Because, how was someone so kind, so caring, so lovely, so precious, dating someone like him? A mutant who tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle, and kept killing bottles to find it. A mutant who got into fights whenever he felt like it, and kept true to his lone wolf personality.

The motel that evening did not provide the comfort he was looking for. Usually, there was a little ease associated with it. A nice, calm, stable environment for him away from the hustle and bustle that he knew was overtaking the school at this very moment. As Logan cracked open his first beer, he thought about how shut down she was when he drove away. His pride would not allow him to admit that he was wrong, and frankly, up until this point, he had not believe that he was wrong. And yet, there was just a little something in his chest that tugged on his heart as he went to sleep that made him believe other wise.

After Logan had left, she went back into the mansion with a frown etched deep onto her face. But there was little time to dwell on the fact that her boyfriend was leaving once again. There was so much to do for the big meal tomorrow. Cooking for an entire school was an arduous task, but one that her, and the other adults, took on gratefully.

Her mind was kept free from thoughts that would damper her mood all through the rest of the day. So many people had joined together that year to make their feast. Different dietary restrictions, different cultures, and different preferences had made for one interesting prepping day. She did make sure to include a couple turkeys on the table that had to be prepped, but there was just so much variety.

However, sleep continued to evade her that night. The blame was partially on the lack of her space heater lover not providing adequate warmth for her. During the colder months, Logan’s ability to run warm was her favorite thing about him. He was just a big, hairy, perfectly warmed teddy bear to latch onto in the middle of the night.

But most of the blame was on the fact that she would, once again, be alone on the holidays. Sure, she had her friends and the kids, but that was not the same as having her Wolverine. He would be doing whatever he was doing for the next two days, before coming back like nothing had happened.

And that was how she found herself in the kitchen, stress baking, at four o’clock in the morning. Her ever so popular iced lemon cookies were on the menu. It was a process that she had done so much, that she did not need to think about what she was doing. She knew that these would be going like hot cakes tomorrow, or rather today if someone wanted to be technical. So she did not worry about making too many; there would never be enough.

Five am came far faster than she ever thought. There were a few of the older people that had begun trickling in, and here she was. Still baking. Charles got his morning tea before retreating into his office. Scott made his and Jean’s cup of coffee and left to go to their room. Storm, however, stayed. She made both of them a cup of coffee before starting on food preparations while the other woman finished off her baking.

They snacked on cookies and remnants of food for breakfast while the rest of the school woke up. Remy and Rogue both came down to share a plate of eggs and toast in the dinning room, aiming just to stay out of the way for now. However, as soon as they were done, they were put to work warming up side dishes that had been prepped the day before to save on time.

In a few hours, the adults had the perfect Thanksgiving meal on the tables. Everything was served buffet style, with additional chairs and tables inhabiting the dinning and game room. Every one fixed themselves a plate with a little bit of everything they wanted, and sat down to enjoy a nice time together. But she just watched from her little corner.

Sure, she had a plate of food, but it did not seem too appealing right now. Right now, she was just enjoying watching everyone enjoy themselves. She saw Scott and Jean laughing, feeding each other bites from their plates, and chatting with the youngsters they had come to take in as their own. It made her a bit bitter on what was supposed to be a day of thanks. Pushing around a bit of Rogue’s green bean casserole, she did not know what she was expecting when someone cleared their throat behind her.

Logan was the last person she expected to see, though.

He stood a bit awkwardly. His hands were shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans, right next to the big belt buckle he loved wearing. The flannel covering his arms and chest was the one that she had gotten him as a belated Christmas present last year. Not because she forgot to give it to him on Christmas, but rather because he was not there for it. Logan cleared his throat again before trying to speak.

“Mind helping me fix a plate, darling?” Her shock was recovered quickly as she stood, leaving behind her own plate. She talked him through each dish, and helped load up his plate with things that he may not have understood, but would definitely enjoy eating. There was a little something that was nagging her as they went to go sit down again.

“What are you doing back so soon?”

For once, Logan did not have what seemed like an appropriate response. He never bothered with giving a good answer before because he never cared who took offense to what he was saying. Now, he was terrified to upset his girlfriend even more.

“I just figured I would give this thing a try.” Logan tried to keep his eyes to his food, and shoveled a bit in before he could speak more.

“Well,” she began putting together her own first bite, “thank you for humoring me.”

“Don’t get used to it, darling.”

Anyone who did not know Logan would assume that he was being serious. But she knew better. That twinkle in his eye let her know that she just might turn his cynical heart around yet.

#rebelliousstories #writing #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men imagine #x men #x men movies #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan wolverine #wolverine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine

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heechwe · 9 days ago

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chai tea latte | 𝐞𝐬

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ fic for @kvanity-main's "fall for you" event! ୨୧ pairing: eric sohn x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ tags: established relationship au ୨୧ synopsis: You haven't been with Eric long, but you do know that doing any menial task together, including baking an apple pie from scratch, will be memorable. ➸ Title inspired by the song by Angel Taylor! Prompt for the fic is: "'It's a brand new romantic relationship and you're baking together for the first time."

“That definitely does not go into the filling.” Eric presses his head into your neck as he looks over your shoulder. The recipe for apple pie Sangyeon supplied you with is pretty easy, although your baking partner is making it difficult to follow the directions to the letter. A dozen or so ingredients litter the kitchen counter, alongside the baking instruments needed to make the dessert.

“Yes it does! It says so right there,” you point to the fourth step, proving your point. Your boyfriend snatches the paper with a free hand to stuff into his jean pocket, a smirk stretching across his face. “Hey, give that back!”

“Maybe the best plan is to not have one, don’t you think?” His eyes sparkle with their typical mischievous nature in the afternoon sun. His ability to act care-free is what you love about him, even if you haven’t said those words out loud yet. It was only two months of dating, and diving in deep so soon felt more terrifying than anything else.

Well, besides the thought of messing up one of Eric’s mother’s favorite baked goods for the Thanksgiving party.

“Seeing as baking is even more precise than cooking, I’m gonna say no,” you respond in jest, poking your tongue out following the last word.

Eric takes your cheeks into his hands, lightly squishing them with his fingertips until you laugh. “Maybe,” he says, “you should trust me.”

You roll your eyes, followed by a huff of exasperated air leaving your lips. “I do trust you, I just don’t want to screw this up.”

Your words hold more weight as they leave your lips. The double-meaning is evident in the way your brows knit together and your lips downturn into a frown.

Eric catches it, and presses a quick smothering of kisses to your lips and cheeks, another giggle emitting from your lips. “You can’t, I promise.” His words and actions assuage the fears that begin to bubble up.

Your anxiety is slowly forgotten as you and Eric continue with the baking process. He takes his time cutting up the apples as you begin making the crust, opening the bag of flour for the process of rolling out the necessary dry ingredients.

His humor was the biggest thing that attracted you to him initially, but his instinctual way of helping others before himself that slowly revealed itself the longer you were together made you fall harder than you imagined you could.

“What’s the point of adding lemon to pie filling?” He thinks out loud, reading Sangyeon’s instructions again with a skeptical tone that has you grinning to yourself.

Still, the fact remains that Eric can’t help but turn the humor a dial or two up when you least expect it, in both the best and worst times.

Like now, when he takes a handful of flour from the bag next to you and wipes his hand across your face. “Eric!”

Before he can laugh at your shocked expression, you take your own pile to throw. His face and hair become coated in the substance, most of it sticking to his nose.

“Okay, now it’s war.”

The next second, it looks like a bomb of white smoke exploded in your tiny kitchen. The two of you as well as the counters and cabinets are caked in baking flour, your skin and clothes a few shades lighter than they should be.

With anyone else, you would either be a bumbling mess or throwing a fit about the state of events. But, with Eric, it’s so easy to get lost in the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I think I won,” he says in triumph.

You scoff and press your back to the counter, crossing your arms. “I’d say it was a tie.”

Eric raises one eyebrow as a smirk grows on his lips. He places one hand on the bag of sugar, fingers dancing across the opening. “Is that a challenge?”

You shake your head instantly, giggling. “No, God, no. That’s how we get ants.”

He doesn’t move his position, still testing your resolve. “Then I guess you’ll just have to admit defeat. Or it’s goodbye, pest-free apartment.”

“Okay, fine, you win!”

Eric is suddenly pressing his chest to yours, the mood transforming due to the lack of space between your bodies. You can’t see his hands as they’re pressed into the countertop on either side of you, caging you in. His lips are dangerously close to yours, his minty breath hitting your face. If you have to guess, he’s decided to tease you in a far more torturous way.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the index finger of his hand writing something in the flour on the counter, the white powder in contrast with the black linoleum.

I LOVE YOU.

It’s safe to say the silent, written confession leaves you speechless. The man of many words has you covered, though.

“I know it’s soon, but I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. And you know by now I can’t keep anything in.” He laughs, but all that floods in his eyes is uncertainty, the fear of your impending and potentially negative response pervading his body. “If you don’t feel the same yet, I completely-“

You close the distance between the two of you in the next second, hoping your responding kiss is charged with the power to quiet the nerves he has. How he doesn’t think you feel the same is ludicrous, and you wonder now why you hadn’t told him before he had the chance to beat you to the punch.

His tongue presses your lips open to enter your mouth, and you can’t fight the moan that leaves your throat when he wraps his arms around your body to squeeze your ass. How did the day start with such a simple task of baking and end up here, the two of you ready to pounce on each other?

Eric grows impatient, suddenly lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He takes his lips from yours, his lips puffy and eyes love-swept. “I’m gonna guess from that reaction that you feel the same, right?”

You nod. “I love you, Eric Sohn.”

His resounding grin is electric, his expression akin to one of a child receiving their favorite candy. You resume kissing, but Eric takes advantage of your position of being carried to take you away from the kitchen.

“Baby, the pie!” You reach your arms out in the direction of the ingredients, laughing, but he just trails his lips to your neck and keeps his arms tightly wrapped around your thighs.

He chuckles on your way to the bedroom. “I’ll buy one from the store later. Lemme just take care of the girl I love first.”

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

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jungle-angel · 1 year ago

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Two Numbskulls and a Kitchen (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: It's clearly a bad idea for Bob and his dad to have free reign of your kitchen......or is it?

"Alright hon, you want a hot coffee or something?" Irene asked you.

"Nah, I've gotta keep drinking water," you told her. "If I drink any kind of coffee, baby girl won't sleep at all."

Irene laughed. "She's not even here yet and she's already causing havoc."

You enjoyed the ride home with your mother-in-law, your unborn daughter kicking up a storm in your belly and the two of you laughing at what kind of trouble Auggie and Patrick were causing at Jake's house. The music coming from the bluetooth speaker in the truck was suddenly interrupted by a call from Bob, a rather unusual occurrence at this hour.

"Hey Bob," you answered.

"Hey is momma driving?"

"Yeah I'm driving, why?" Irene asked.

"Um.......we um......we've got a bit of a problem."

You and your mother-in-law gave each other "the look."

"What the hell did you two do?" Irene asked.

"Momma....."

"Don't you 'momma' me buster," Irene told him sternly. "What did you two do in that kitchen?"

Bob didn't answer. The only sound was Joe in the background loudly telling him something indiscernible.

"We'll be home in ten," you told him.

"Gotcha sweetie, love you."

"Love you too."

You hung up and one look at your mother-in-law told you it was a bad idea to laugh. "I'm gonna kill those two when we get home," Irene mumbled.

You snorted and laughed.

When you pulled into the driveway, Irene helped you out of the truck, the both of you carrying the last minute Thanksgiving supplies into the house. You didn't smell anything burning which was a good sign, but the sight of Joe with his hand wrapped in a dish towel said otherwise.

"Oh what did you do?" Irene questioned. "What did you do?!"

"Baby I can explain," Joe answered, trying not to laugh.

"Joseph Lowell Floyd....."

"Ya'll can look at your son's phone and see the evidence," Joe chuckled.

Irene held out her hand and Bob immediately gave her his phone. She scrolled through the camera roll to find photo after photo of Bob and Joe screwing around in the kitchen. The one of Joe in a hockey mask wielding a butcher knife and Bob playing dead was worthy enough for next year's Halloween party, but the one of them in Reagan's surgical gear and taking out the turkey guts had her going wide-eyed.

"This still doesn't explain how you sliced your finger," she said.

"Keep going you'll find it," Bob told her.

Sure enough there it was, the quickly snapped sequence of photos that told the whole story.

"Un.....believable," Irene groaned.

You, Bob and Joe couldn't help but laugh. "You still love me baby?" Joe asked her.

"Joe, I love you to death but this is getting ridiculous," Irene answered.

"So does that mean I still get nookie tonight?" Joe asked.

"Yeah but your balls will be busted by the time I'm done with you," Irene chuckled.

You and Bob both let out loud disgusted groans. The last thing you wanted to imagine was your in-laws doing the dirty in the little basement apartment they shared.

Irene drove Joe to the emergency room, leaving you both home alone, curled up on the couch and watching one of the Charlie Brown specials. "Babes?" he said.

"Hmm?"

"Remind me never to let my dad get into the beer in the back of the fridge," Bob chuckled.

"That's what this was about?" you laughed.

"Two for the chefs, one for the dish," Bob answered.

You snuggled into Bob, your head resting on his chest and relaxing into his warmth as his hand came to rest on your bump. This certainly would be a memorable Thanksgiving, if anything else.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

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odditycircus-2002 · 1 year ago

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Baraka and Medusa!Reader Headcannons

A/N: For some reason, when I check out the tag for Barakaxreader, there are a lot of dancing headcannons. Which I thought was odd, but then I thought "Oh Beauty and the Beast opportunity," And decided to write this this headcannon. So Happy Thanksgiving and don't forget about the people who suffer to this day. Never forget.

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You and Baraka got the idea of throwing a feast of Thanks from Johnny Cage's invitation for an Earthrealm holiday. This feast came to fruition because Baraka didn't want to risk infecting any of Mr. Cage's guests and you wanted to raise the Tarkatan Colony's spirits.

You were able to request some extra supplies ahead of time from Empress Mileena, including alcohol in preparation. Baraka was in charge of preparing the meals for this feast along with some other able-bodied Tarkatans. Preparing food for all of the species who now reside in the colony. You asked many of your patients, including Shokan, Zaterran, and Naknadan, to pitch in to mix in their culture's traditions, including food, games, and events.

Although you helped to plan the entire event, you spent half of your time at Johnny's party so you could meet up with Mileena, Kitana, and Syzoth again. You opted for a mask that only covered half your face, leaving your mouth exposed for easier access to food. You made sure to act as a polite guest by gift Johnny a freshly caught beast native to the Wastes, as you heard from Kitana it's Earthrealm custom to bring food for this holiday.

"Well, talk about fresh... thanks, I guess."

"Its meat pairs well with a nice heavy dose of citrusy seasoning and roasted evenly."

You found yourself enjoying Johnny's party, with you and Syzoth often secretly picking away pieces of a bug-related dish Ashrah originally made for the Zaterran before the feast could officially start. It turns out that you rival Kung Lao in terms of how much you can stuff your face granted he can't widen his jaw to fit everything on his plate all at once. You also enjoyed some of the Earthrealm board games, although you constantly questioned the rules for how ridiculous they seemed. When you eventually departed, you made sure to take a heaping amount of leftovers to share with the colony.

You and Baraka could safely say this Feast was a successful idea despite the expected hiccups, including scheduling conflicts that led to an all-out brawl between a Shokan and Naknadan. Baraka and a few others had to assist you with some of those conflicts.

While the rest of the Colony was enjoying the festivities, including some of the food you brought back from Earthrealm, you and Baraka were content with speaking with one another while occasionally pausing to eat. Sometimes, you separate to partake in some games or events.

Eventually, when the dancing portion of the events began, you decided to dance to it rather than just contently sway to the music. Of course, your first choice of a dance partner was Baraka. However, the afflicted Edenian initially politely rejects your offer. You frowned but then remembered how this dancing may remind him of the wife he once lost, so you didn't push him. Instead, you take on another dance partner with one of the Tarkatans you became close to.

For a while, Baraka just watched you dance the night away. You seemed to enjoy yourself as you moved from dance partner to dance partner. You even dance with a Tarkatan child at one point, a sight that especially causes Baraka's heart to ache. He can't help but think again of the family he lost to Tarkat and how he wishes they were here again. Yet, a thought enters his head, with a voice of reason sounding similar to his late wife.

'Why waste what little time you have left miserable?'

Baraka then turns his gaze towards you again as you're dancing with another Tarkatan and your snakes swaying to the music. Furrowing his brows, he decides he's done watching from the sidelines and makes his way towards the dance floor. When he catches your attention, he holds a hand and asks for the honor of dancing with you. Your other dancing partner pushes you towards Baraka in silent encouragement. You end up stumbling into Baraka's arms just as the song changes into something slower, more thoughtful, with an air of mystique.

"I'm glad you came around, wouldn't want you missing the fun."

"As am I, Y/N"

At first, your dance was awkward with Baraka, who hasn't danced in a very long time, and since you didn't often partake in it, eventually, it all comes rushing back to you and Baraka as you partake in a simple and graceful dance. You two become physically closer to one another as the song ends, until eventually, you're holding one another while swaying gently on the spot. While you can't directly look into each other's eyes, you can still convey your unspoken thoughts through touch alone.

Playlist while writing this:

"La Llorona" feat Alanna Ubach and Antonio Sol.

"Still Here" by Digital Daggers

"Secret of My Life" from the anime Kyousougiga

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mortal kombat 1 #baraka x reader #oddball writes #dancing headcanons #baraka #mk1 2023 #Youtube

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