#who took my oatmeal

[stinkypeanutbutter]

just know when you come on here and you see the battlefield of fanfic creators , just know , and remember I started it . I started it ALL . ME ! MEEEEE !!!!

[incorrectbatfam]

Barbaras telling the story to how her dad found out she was workign for Batman to everyone and they ask what it took for him to find out when after all these years this great detective did not realise his daughter was even batgirl

Teenage Barbara: *climbs in through the window after curfew*

Comm. Gordon: Explain yourself.

Barbara: The stairs were out of order.

———————

[at a crime scene]

Comm. Gordon: I'll call Batman.

Batgirl!Barbara: No need, I got this.

Comm. Gordon: Do I know you?

Barbara: We bumped into each other on the stairs.

———————

Barbara: *has a black eye*

Comm. Gordon: What happened?

Barbara: I tripped down the stairs.

———————

Barbara, on the phone: Send me the case file when you can.

Barbara: *hangs up*

Comm. Gordon: Who was that?

Barbara: The... stairs.

———————

[at breakfast]

Comm. Gordon: There's a new vigilante on the scene. She calls herself Batgirl. Wonder who she is.

Barbara: *falls asleep in her oatmeal*

Comm. Gordon: Why are you so tired?

Barbara, muffled: Stairs.

———————

[at the Batcave]

Barbara: I finally did it. I told my dad I am Batgirl.

Dick: How'd he take it?

Barbara: He didn't believe me. He thinks I hit my head on the stairs.

[dilf-docs]

Give Me Coffee, Utah Love

sleazy!joel 'mullet' miller x younger fem!reader

summary: on the run and looking for a fresh start, a cheap gasoline coffee and to-do list slipping from your bag later, you (have lost your mind and) consider this stranger's proposition.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (52/25), pwp, p. in v., fingering, (one) pussy spank, degradation kink, lwk breeding and exhibition kink, nasty filthy sex, public sex, one joke about kys, strangers to ???, pulled an all nighter for this yey me (its 3am and my alarm sounds at 4:10 lol) so forgive me if i made any spelling mistake, i wanna see ur comments/reblogs bc i crashed out so bad i feel like i deserve it

word count: 4,060 words

side note: that one girl who doesn't play abt snl. okay but who works harder? the devil, a7estrellas or me, that only needed two pedro snl sketches and is acting like a yuppie in the 80s doing cocaine on a bathroom after work bc WOW so many new content. yes, men with mullets should die but this is pedro! song of choice for this piece is queen of the gas station by sleazy dilf patroness lana del rey. also up next, reynaldo inspired one shot to celebrate the snl 50 series!

You liked driving at night.

There was simply something about the eerie silence, the shadows casting upon the streets, barely touched by the headlights and the moon, the quiet hum of the radio and the slow shift of your hands on the wheel.

You liked driving at night, but today, it feels off.

Just this morning, you had looked at your house one last time. It still had that white paint on the porch, that had faded due to the sunlight, and those scrapped stickers on what had been your childhood room's door.

He had tried talking some sense in to you, claiming all your life was there, in Arizona. With him. But Phoenix had started to feel like a prison and he was your warden. So you snuck at dawn when no one would notice, like a criminal. Very fitting.

The sun hadn't touched yet the kitchen where you ate when your feet balanced off the chair and now graced the floor in a lazy manner, eating cereal with marshmallows first and now, just about three days ago, just oatmeal, because it seemed like what a grown up would do.

But in many ways you were still the same kid who was too shy to raise her hand in class because she couldn't find her voice, bound to be forgotten among much louder and brigther kids. Yet he had seen you.

So you stayed: put up with dances where he would spin you until the world was reduced to a blur, and the quiet home life in town-- kids running around and barbecues on the summer seemed like a good ending. You dreamed of a truck and a garden, and the few friends you made all seemed to share the same vision. Except for one.

When Dorothea came back from New York, eyes too wide and smile too bright, she seemed like a different person. In many ways she still was the same girl with an accent who had shared her sandwhich with you during recess, but her words now carried ambition and her gaze seemed awoken by a purpose you couldn't find but on the road that drove out of town.

But folks kept her at arms length. The amusement in her smile was infectious as a disease, and with whispered stabs they would talk behind her back. Your friend bore a scarlett letter for wanting more.

You had never wanted more; compliant might of be your second name. But when you'd see her walk by your house, shorts above her knees and that city girl strut with her sneakers against the hot asphalt, you were envious, and Williams seemed so small and dull.

Who does she think she is? he would say, and you'd nod your head, despite the secret admiration hidden in your eyes.

Suddenly, the red truck sounded stupid and the married life with kids could wait.

We could wait, you had said outloud.

He had laughed, like you just told a joke. It was on surprise, but it felt cruel.

Why? like he couldn't understand you-- as if you spoke on a different language. What is there to wait for?

You took your decision that day.

It started slow, by wearing skirts that rode up with the wind, blaming the lack of clothes on the heat. Then with the nicotine between your lips, the forbidden act making clouds that escaped your red lips. Or wearing the other make up Dorothea taught you, now holding hands with her as people whispered she had tainted your naive soul too. He caught your new smell, and spoke harshly about not wearing clothes that made other men turn to eat out the sun-kissed skin of your legs, because you'd turn too, gaze defiant and full of mischief, but that he didn't know. Might as well wear nothin'. But he cried with his face buried in the same uncovered legs, saying he hated to see you like this; he didn't recognize you.

It was easy then.

One day you packed your bags and took the car you'd been given as a graduation gift, leaving town with what seemed a lifetime stashed in the backseat.

You left a note for your parents, neatly placed on a bed you wondered when you'd sleep again in, if you were ever to be back. To him, who you now just start to wonder if you ever really loved or just accepted because it's what there was and nothing more, you hadn't left a note nor explanations.

He wouldn't understand anyways.

Just the promise of what could've been, shining in the middle of your bed.

You had been driving non-stop, afraid like a fugitive who was being chasen. Sometimes, you'd take stops on the road and pulled out a pen and a book, despite your fingers itching from driving and your urgency to check the phone you'd been to coward to turn on to see the wake of messages your disappearance might have sparked.

There was a sting somewhere outside the ache of your bones or the flutter of your tired eyes, and it cried for home and longed for the life you always envisioned for yourself. But it also felt like a second skin you couldn't quite wash off with the cheap soap and cold water of the motel you had crashed in a couple of hours ago.

You didn't want to live in suburban desert dreams back at Williams. You wanted to feel alive.

It's nightime when the little peep sound jolts you awake. You had been driving in auto-pilot; your car needs gas and you needed rest.

Its probably ten at night, and according to your map, Utah isn't that far. It's a fresh start: a place where no one knows your name or your whole life, for the matter.

Your car comes to a stop under faded neon lights in the middle of the road. There's a truck parked next to your car, the guy inside the convenience store, and that's about it. You're filling your tank while suppressing a yawn, when a movement across your station catches your eyes.

The only other customer, a man old enough to be your dad. He's staring at you, leaning against his truck, arms crossed while the biceps flex with the position, tense. Even from your place, you can see how the veins pop here and there, making you gulp on instinct.

The smoke of his cigarrette gets lost in the neon hues and starry sky. Doesn't he know you're not supposed to do that at a gas station? Yet, his lack of care and recklessness picks your interest.

(Hey! The last time you had human contact was about a day ago and after seeing only roads, asphalt, desert and mountains, you deserved a little treat to entertain yourself)

"Like what you see, doll?" sporting the most sleazy smile you'd ever seen.

Something about him was as alluring as uneasy, the nervous tremble of your hands but the warmth between your legs speaking of said conflicting emotions. You pretend to be invested on the task of filling your truck (the reason you're here, after all) but the way your body burns, begs, to look again is humilliating. So you do, but he isn't there anymore, althought his truck is.

"You know, wearin' a dress like that at night isn't a good idea for'a girl like you"

He appears from seemingly nowhere, making you jump. Your heart flutters and you clench at nothing with the sound of his deep voice, low, akin to a rumble or a thunder. It's laced with diversion, and the not so subtle way he eats you out with his eyes like a starved man, wolfish grin on display as he leans now against your car, makes his intentions all the more clear.

"Why?" you feel oddly bold, instead of scared. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, because why the hell would you be flirting in a gas station, at night, entertaining an old and slighlty creepy albeit attractive man when you had been engaged less than a day ago?

"The weather" he appears nonchalant, balancing the cigarrette like a toothpick between his chapped lips. "Or men"

"Bold of you to say that while wearing that" you poke fun at his outfit, which consists of some shorts, worn t-shirt and a vest. He's sporting the tall socks and slippers combo, dressing like a grandpa but he pulls it off alright. "Also, men? Like who, you?"

He laughs, the sound sprouting rich and grave from his chest. It makes you dizzy. Yup, let's blame the lack of sleep again.

"Well, look at that. Sure got'a mouth on ya', doll" he gets closer, and his scent floods your nostrils. Wood, gasoline, musk, sweat and burnt ciggars. "Just takin' care of you. Say, how about ya' warm that shaky frame of yers? This place has sum coffee goin' on. Shit, but it works"

He could poison your drink for all you care, but all his teeth are on display and he's got a dimple. Also, you're fighting your fluttering eyelids in here.

"Y/n" it's your way of agreeing while extending your hand.

Instead of shaking it, he pulls you even closer and kisses it, his warm lips brushing your cold hand. You shiver at the contact, and it may be the way his firey auburn holds your gaze while doing so or how big his hands feel, both your mind and heart racing.

"Joel" he says, and then that same calloused palm finds its way to the soft part above your ass in your back, guiding you to the store.

Inside, it smells like cheap coffee and grease. You clutch your bag tighter, and choose a table as the stranger pays for your coffee, or well, Joel.

"There ya' go" and he places the hot brown liquid in front of you.

Now that he's closer and under the yellow-ish lights, you take a better look at his face. His eyes, which mock the drink in front of you. His hands, that seem to almost swallow the small cup with their size, and then his hair. God, alright. He sported a fucking mullet of all haircuts. And boy, wasn't it embarrassingly attractive? Your eyes fall towards his beard and mustache, grays sprinkled across them. But your mind and eyes alike went back to the thought of feeling the slightly greasy looking hazel strands, calling for your touch.

"Gonna take a sip or what?" and he smiles. You don't know if it's in diversion by your doze-off or because he knows why.

You had never felt this hot and bothered. Hell, not even normal hot. He had never made you feel like this, and now some fucking random skanky man was getting your panties on a twist in the middle of the road.

"I-I'm going to the bathroom" you manage to squeak out, running for your life.

Inside the stall, you splash some water into your face, as if trying to make you react. Get yourself together, you tell your reflection in the mirror, but then you're fixing your hair, and as you reach for your red lipstick you realize you left your bag back at the table. Fuck.

You get out, only to find your bag weirdly sprawled on the seat, the handles centimeters away from falling to the floor. Then, he, who you only see his sturdy back and broad shoulders, crouched down, like he's reading something, althought Joel doesn't seem the type of guy who chooses to read in his free time.

"Joel?"

And then you see it: the tiny notebook you had been scribbling on the road, looking even smaller on his grip.

Your To-do list.

It may sound stupid, but a week before leaving, you bought it: the last memory of your town and the start of your new life. At twenty-five, the concept may sound a little stupid with what you've written, but you felt your new life deserved to have space for some of those dreams or fleeting thoughts you had during class written down.

And now fucking Joel was reading it.

"Wow, doll. Ya' sure are full of surprises" he chuckles, flipping through the pages. What sounds better: killing him or yourself? Hmm, maybe throwing the burning coffee at him would suffice.

"Give me that back" you extend your rigid hand, voice clipped.

The stupid trail of decisions catches up to you. Why had you trusted a stranger that had oggled you right in front of your face? You're too starved and horny to think straight, clearly, because now he's mocking you while your face burns with red shame.

"Saved your bag from fallin' when ya' rushed outta da seat. Then this lil' thing came out" he stops on a page. "Skinny dipping. And'ere I thought you're a good girl"

"Shut up and give me that" you seethe.

"Wow, doll" Joel chuckles yet again. "don't get yer panties in a twist. If ya' wanted so, jus' ask"

You scoff at his boldness. "Excuse me?"

"Ya' heard me" he gets up from his seat, body towering over yours.

Was it hot in here? Why was your body warm all of the sudden? Was it the coffee? No, you hadn't even take a sip. Joel searches before looking at you again with a content gaze and an ugly smug grin, like he's used to having his way.

"Sex with a stranger" then searches for other, the sound of the pages the only other sound in the room, still not overpowering the one of your heart, echoing in your ears. "Sex in a bathroom"

He closes the little book and hands it back to you. You take it with force, ears burning at their tip. "So?"

"Funny" he muses. "I can help you with both"

Your head drops back against the cold wall as Joel's lips find your collarbone.

This was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Of all the decisions you've made in your life, this one is either the worst or the best. Fuck, you hadn't even arrived at Utah and could cross two things from the book.

His kiss is rushed, rough and sloppy, sucking on your lips so hard you feel them swollen and bruised. Joel's tongue then pokes inside your mouth, to taste your insides and all of you more deeply, content with the savor of your sweet mouth and gloss smeared across his own. It isn't often that he gets a chance like this: sure, casual sex is like breathing for him at this point in life, where he's made it too far without building a home for a wife. But now, here? You, this pretty young thing, the small whimpers coming out of your lips, how you squirm under his frame and groping hands that travel through a body he can't get enough of. Shit, he ain't young anymore but he's painfully hard and can't stop his task despite his aching joints and age. Joel just wants to taste all of you forever, despite the shit place and rather funny circumstances:

You both, strangers, in an dirty dark alley behind a gas station, about to fuck.

He's pressing his knee tightly between your thighs, the same one you had spotted before thanks to his shorts. His strong grip pins your hand above your head, rendering you immobile under his weight, that presses over you. Shit, you should be thinking this through and running away, but the complete submission and reckless choice makes it all the more hot.

Your throat works up soft, needy noises and Joel marvels at the sounds.

"Keep 'em comin', doll. Wanna know I'm makin' you feel good"

His lips leave lazy wet trails across your skin. The skirt of your dress is raised by his leg and pressed knee.

"Hmh, Joel-" you needily whimper.

"Shh" he swallows a moan with his mouth, "but jus' for me, doll. Keep it low, will ya'? Or want the whole place knowin' what a dirty slut ya' are? Fuckin' with da first stranger that looks yer way?"

You had never been degraded, less thought it would turn you this much on.

"Joel" you whimper his name.

He groans into your mouth, lewd tongues tangling and tasting the messy kiss with fiery passion and hate. Your fingers fist into the thick material of his vest, nails about to ruin it, but by the way his eyes darken and he smiles, Joel might be into it.

The man pulls away for breath, a string of saliva connecting you two.

His hand gropes your ass and then moves to your exposed inner thigh.

"What'a dirty girl" your fingers hook into his worn-out jeans, tugging the peaking waistband forward to you. His weight and chest push into you, "so wet and eager for this dick, you cockhungry whore"

To prove his point, his thick fingers rub your clit through the material of your panties. You tilt your head back in pleasure at the newfound sensation, and he takes the chance to mark your exposed neck and collarbone, making you moan his name when he sinks his teeth on the skin.

"All 'tis for me?" and his fingers fingers slink down to trace your folds again. Your back arches, breasts pressing against his chest. You dig your nails on his broad back, making him hiss with pleasure as you grab for support.

His rough digits slide and push your sticky panties aside, then plunge inside your pussy. You whimper quietly, the squelches of your pussy swallowing his fingers the only sound in the dark, aside from the busy road ahead. The calloused pad of his thumb circles your sensitive nub, pressing and massaging as his lips travel down to the valley of your tits.

"Wanna free this bad girls and taste 'em" he pulls down your dress, mouth practically watering at the rosy soft skin. "Fuck, doll. No bra? Ya' were lookin' for this, ain't you? Makin' the job easy. I'm just'a lucky man"

He wants to see how they bounce with each thrust, eyes darkening with the shade of lust.

"I- Fuck"

Joel's fingers thrust in and out at with a rapid pace and delicious movements you had never been pleasured before with. Now, when he curls them? That nearly sends you over the edge, reaching a spot you had never known existed.

"S'tight" he groans at your clenching warm sticky walls, fingers slowing but still moving as you ride out your high, drenching him in your liquids.

"Found sum sugar for that shit tastin' bitter coffee, eh?" he takes his own fingers on his mouth and sucks on them with a rather obscene gesture, taking them out with a loud pop. His tongue licks what's left off, and you whimper at the lewd image. "Yer too sweet, doll. Can't get 'nough"

Your arms wrap around him, as Joel rolls his hips, seeking friction to relieve him of the uncomfortable strain against the denim.

"Ready to take me in, doll? I'll just warn ya' somethin'" his free hand unbuckles his belt and tugs down the jeans and boxers down, dick in display: hard, and leaking with precum. He drags his teeth against your ear, and his hot breath ghosts over you with coffee and ciggars. "See that? Think ya' can take it?"

The tuft of sweaty hair leading down to his length has you salivating, and your fingers wrap around him before you realize it. Joel winces at the touch.

"Like a champ" and you swear his erection throbs in your palm, head angry and needy.

What a gentleman.

He doesn't wait for more words, teasing your moist folds with his tip before he's inside, buried to the hilt, rough fingers steady bruising your hips as he thrusts you up against the wall. You look up at the flickering lampost, wondering how did you ever made it here and what the hell are you doing, his groans deep inside your ear as his head is buried in the crook of your neck, labored breaths against your ablazed skin. For a moment, he looses the spot and favors looking at you, to take in the sight infront of him: mouth slightly gaped open, eyes lidded, and fingers desperately digging into his back. You're fucked out of your mind, but so is he.

"Like what you see?" you mimick his words from earlier. He lets out a dry and labored chuckle.

"I do"

He snaps his hips, and you're not sure what is it that creaks, too many things happening outside (the cars, the whiff of gasoline, the nocturnal wind). Joel soon takes up an erratic pace. He's so deep in you, his balls slams into your pussy with each thrust he forces into you.

You should start writing more things on that notebook if they would become true and as good as this. Earn a ridiculous sum of money for free, for example.

Joel grunts, hands busy holding you against the wall, but he so badly wants to play with your bouncy tits, so you let out a yelp when his wet tongue rolls over the skin, mouth then sucking the skin until it's bruised, kissing lazily around your hardened nipples until teeth bite on them.

He's going insane; should go more often late night driving if he'd end up fucking pretty naive sweet-tasting girls behind alleys.

His cock fills you so perfectly it doesn't take long before your walls are spasming around his cock, and you're about to cum for a second time, before on his fingers now over his girth inside of you. Joel can sense it, so his filthy mouth goes for it:

"Go on, doll. Show me what yer made of"

You fall apart with a sharp cry, face buried into his shoulder with a bite to muffle it.

He groans as the pleasure rolls through you. "Milk me dry, c'mon. Take all of ma' seed like the slut ya're" Joel speaks while moving inside you, deeper and quicker, aching for release. Then he's pulsing, cumming with a harsh grunt. "Don't waste a drop, doll. I know you're considerate jus' like that"

His hands slide down to your waist, his long hair drenched, sticking to his forehead. There's the silence of the night and your breaths as you try to compose yourselves.

"That's a good girl" while softnening cock still inside you.

"See? Told you: took you like a champ" you pant, trying not to think of what lead you to now, just focused on the high. "I like to keep my promises"

Joel laughs, but its a soft sound; light. It caresses your chest like a wind chime.

He then pulls out, your folds a mess and his dick coated with your juices. "Shit, look at ya' hungry pussy, doll. Wore me the fuck out"

You help him pull up his pants, looking at the socks while you contain a laugh. Then you think again and the alley pulls you out of your post sex haze. Yeah, filling those two checkboxes in your To-do list will feel good as fuck, but:

Now what?

"Joel?"

"Hmh?"

He pulls up your dress to cover your tits when the wind brushes through the alley, with a weird softness to him, then fixes your panties, giving your clothed pussy a weak slap that sends a shiver through your body.

"Thanks for the treat. I'ont remember orderin' desert"

You laugh as you push him off your body, refusing to meet his eyes. This is the second man who has seen you naked, and while definitely not good at words, his wolf-like hunger in his brown eyes and needy mouth besides the hard dick have said more than enough. Besides, it's a little late to be embarrased but you're still trying to process this wild huge leap you took to celebrate the start of your new life.

"Drive safe" you mutter, starting to walk away, thinking how the hell you'll survive the two hours left in the orad with such a sticky pair of panties and sweaty body.

"Where you goin'?" his deep voice stops you before you've reached the end of the alley.

"Utah" you answer in a beat, heart beating dangerously fast.

The same sleazy smile from the first time you saw him adorns his handsome face, all teeth in display.

"Really, doll? Well, lucky you" he lights up a cigarrette, trail of smoke condensing in anticipation. "'Cause that's jus'bout where I'm headed"

[purifiedclitoris69]

Spiders Dance

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Supersoldier!Reader

HIII!! super rough and unedited but I wanted to get it out. I am new to writing smut so bare with me lol. I've had this in my drafts for a min so figured I get it out! Hope you enjoy ;)

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Nat, Top!Reader, Violence, IDK JUST PLEASE MDI

Summary: Natasha was a flirt, it was easy and entertaining, but she took a keen interest in flirting with you; Toying with you on a mission however, may not have been the best idea, or was it?

"Morning soldier," Nat greeted, causing you to blush immediately as you finished rinsing your fruits.

"Hey, Nat, want any fruit," you offered. The girl made you extremely flustered when it came to her comments, but besides that you had real friendship with the her

"No, thank you, but you could hand me a bowl," doing as she said you opened the cabinet above you handing Nat her request, "Thanks," she said taking the bowl letting your fingers touch and running her other hand across your broad shoulders as she passed you.

You flushed quickly, turning around clumsily your elbow hit the cabinet you had left open and your bowl of fruit drop straight to the floor.

Those in the kitchen laughed at the regular interaction as Wilson mumbled out a teasing, "nice one, y/l/n," as you rubbed the back of your neck and stared at the spilled fruit and empty Tupperware on the floor.

"yeah, yeah whatever," you grumbled out picking up your fruit as Wanda helped you giving you a pity smile and Nat smirked amused in the corner.

"You ever gonna give the girl a break," Clint asked walking up beside Nat as the two watched you wash your fruit again and get another bowl leaving the kitchen.

"Absolutely not," Nat said making her bowl of oatmeal, "the day's just begun, and we have training soon."

You had headed back to your room to save yourself any more embarrassment. You didn't mind the flirting by Nat, it boosted your ego and you were head over heals for the woman. She was perfect in your eyes, which was terrifying. She was brave, very skilled in her job, very stubborn, a little pridefull, but she was genuinely kind, understanding, and absolutely stunning. That's why she had so much power over you. You did everything she asked of you and practically dropped to your knees whenever she batted her eyelashes; everyone knew it.

You have yet to figure out her true intentions with her comments, but you knew they were too detailed and persistent for it not to mean anything. Whether it was just lust or whether she became the love of your life, it didn't matter to you yet, you just wanted her… and maybe a little payback for all the times she's embarrassed you. You spent a little time in your room finishing up mission reports but inevitably headed down to the main gym early. It was team training today which means more rosy cheeks and school girl butterflies are coming your way. You decided it’d be safe to work up a little sweat so you could at least attempt to excuse the blush on your face.

“Hey,” Steve greeted as he approached the treadmill you were stretching next to, “you beat me, here."

“don’t be shocked rogers, I am suppose to be the better model,” you teased

“i think people prefer the original,” he returned, as he began his stretches as well.

The two of you ended up running for about 45 minutes; you reaching 33 miles, Steve 31.

“people can prefer you more, but numbers don’t lie,” you spoke as the two of you walked over to the waters with a light sweat.

Steve was ready to reply when the gym doors opened with Wilson, Bucky, and the Maximoff’s entering and greeting you.

You announced to all of them how you beat Steve and began a discussion about who’s the best super soldier as Nat and Clint entered.

Natasha’s eyes landed on you immediately and that glowing sheen of sweat. Nat practically went feral whenever she caught you training or even in the field, basically anytime your muscles were pumped and you were showing off your strength, which is why she loveddd training with you.

As the team did their separate warm-ups, they eventually made it to the big mat to run scenarios on Vision, who made a reasonable subject as he was made of the strongest metal on Earth. Each of them took their turns and contributing pointers.

“Hey soldier,” Nat greeted joining your side and looking up at you.

“Tasha,” you smiled warmly, “no distractions this session please,” you breathed jokingly

“what me? you do your own share of distracting,” she spoke alluringly.

You raised you eyebrows in question

she smirked touching your bicep lightly as you looked down at your tight black compression tee, “your training shirts don’t leave much to imagine.” Your jaw clenched hard enough to shatter your teeth as your face lit up once more leaving you unable to respond besides a small laugh, “don’t worry soldier,” she stood on her tippy toes as you leaned your ear towards her and she whispered, “I really don’t mind.”

“y/l/n,” Sam shouted, “why don’t you and Steve spar so we can decide who’s really the better model."

You forced a smile still caught up in what Nat said, “winner goes against Buck,” you proposed as Steve and Bucky immediately engaged in banter. You looked back to Nat who was already walking away with that dumb sway in her hips.

“Ahem,” Steve cleared his throat waiting in the middle.

“Let the soldier gawk for a min,” Bucky laughed as everyone was already giggling.

Walking to the middle of the mat your jaw clenched with the tension Nat at fueled, “Ready, kid,” Steve smiled extending his hand, you shook off your thoughts and accepted his hand.

You began with light jabs and blocks, both of them moving with an easy grace. Steve feinted to the left, then quickly punched you right in the face falling away from the punch as you gave a small laugh.

You responded with a quick, kick aimed at Steve's shin, eyes sparkling as you got back up quickly and made brief eye contact with Nat going straight back in for another punch; Steve dodged it impressively giving your hair a playful ruffle, receiving a feigned glare. You then get caught off guard once more by the red head over Steve’s shoulder this time getting tooo lost in her and allowing Steve to attempt a mock take down, you struggled briefly but slipped out of it twisting and landing an instinctual sharp kick to his ribs.

Steve dropped to his knees immediately and held a hand up clutching his rib as he gasped for air, his own being completely knocked out of him. he declared a dramatic surrender, “I concede,” he choked, “tad too hard for training kid.”

“shit, sorry,” you breathed sliding down to help him stand.

“all good just was not prepared for all that air to get knocked out,” he breathed out a laugh.

You and Sam let out a laugh as you both went to help him up.

"Yeah, if we're gonna spar can we get Romanoff to leave the room," Bucky joked receiving a smack from Wanda beside him.

"Shut it, Barnes," you said rolling your eyes, "you can just say you're scared." The team laughed at this but deep down you were a little sick of it. You could've genuinely hurt Steve.

The rest of training went pretty smoothly, you stayed as far away as you could from Nat and decided on sparring with Vision for safety.

On the way back to your room your mind was only on her. You spent the rest of the night thinking about her. You craved her in so many ways and you've never experienced the attention of such a beautiful woman, whether it was genuine or not it made you weak; weak in many ways that could lead to dangerous outcomes.

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, you were sat on your bed freshly out the shower, in only a sports bra and shorts.

"Yeah, just a minute!"

"Hey, y/n, it's Steve," he announced from the other side of the door, "I've got a mission for you, I need you in conference room 6 for a breifing."

"Got it!" you answered opening the door dressed to see him heading in that direction," What's the job," you asked at the door only to see Nat and Maria inside.

--------------------------------------

The mission was simple get in get out. HYDRA's latest threat: a hidden base in Siberia working on a new generation of enhanced using stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. The mission involved only gathering intelligence, sabotaging the facility's operations, and ensuring the destruction of any cruel new serum, simple enough, hopefully.

Your mind wasn't completely in it, it was still caught up in your mission partner, and the lack of control you experienced around her. You knew this mission could be dangerous as well, HYDRA's experiments usually are, you, Bucky, and the twins are proof of that.

"Hey you alright," Nat pulled you out of your thoughts as she stood in front of you.

"Yeah," you gave a soft smile getting up and walking past her towards your locker.

"you sure, y/n," she walked towards you again, "it's okay if you're not, I know a mission like this can bring up things," she said trying to comfort you. You looked at her catching the genuineness in her eyes, stirring up those school girl butterflies.

"Yeah, I'm all good," you answered grabbing your usual knives and gadgets, "just a little nervous."

"I get it," she said going to her own locker beside you, "I wouldn't worry, we're in this together." You smiled at her cheesiness but deep down it did help lift you a little. This was the kindness you were talking about, she could be so understanding, and sweet; the great black widow, all sweet to you in private. Maybe it wasn't weakness she brought out of you.

"Destination, in ten minutes," FRIDAY announced.

"I'll land us," you said walking past Nat and into the cockpit.

The perimeter had already been infiltrated by another SHIELD unit, and a map of the facilities layout was processed with key points of interest highlighted. Natasha and you made your way up to the roof so she could access the security measures.

"Watch it," you pulled Nat back by the arm nodding down to a pressure alarm, "don't be so distracted," you commented off handedly.

"excuse me," she scoffed, "let's not talk about what happened in training today," she teased.

Ouch. You dropped her arm,rolled your eyes and looked away shameful…stubborn and prideful, "just cut the alarms already," you whispered. Natasha smirked going to the panel and connecting a small screen (another SHIELD you don't really know about), she's able to disable the security systems and time your guys entry perfectly.

"Okay check comms," Nat said quietly, checking the comms this is where the two of you split up. Natasha is to the control room to download and wipe the data, while you make it down to the labs to destroy the serum and plant the bombs.

"How's it going," you check in less than 2 minutes later. You've always gotten anxious on missions with the team, fearing any mistakes, fearing losing control; Hydra taking you again. With Nat it was ten times worse.

"Don't worry bout me, soldier," she laughed softly with a teasing tone, "focus on your mission, we'll be out soon."

"Yes, ma'am," you anxiously laughed, Nat on the other end flushing at the title.

In the control room Natasha watched the data download with only thoughts of you, it was getting bad. The flirting had started because of a physical attraction to you, your frame, your style, then it was your humor, your kindness, your awkward laugh, your belly laugh, that stupid smile, everything. Nat's daydreaming was cut off by rushed footsteps in the hall. Looking at the camera she had set up at the door she saw a squad of Hydra agents marching towards the room.

"Shit," she mumbled," Y/n, we have a -."

"Are you okay," you cut her off.

"Just get done fast, I have a squad advancing on me" she stated.

"I'm all done here, I'm--," you were cut off by the door to the labs being kicked down and flying across the room.

"What was that, are you okay," Nat asked as she finished up her task and deleting the files.

"Made contact with the enhanced," you said getting into a fighting position, as alarms began to sound.

"It'll be okay," Nat said, "we'll meet at the emergency randevu."

The enhanced made eye contact with you moving mechanically towards you like a brute, "Let's see which model's better now," you mumbled walking towards the danger.

The Prototype charged first, moving with surprising speed for its size. You dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow that dented the metal floor. You countered with a swift punch to the Prototype's ribs, but it barely flinched, retaliating with a backhand that sent you sprawling. The two super-soldiers exchanged a flurry of blows, each strike resonating with power, but the Prototype’s resilience and raw power were relentless. It landed a solid punch to your side, sending you crashing into a lab table. Shattered glass and spilled chemicals hissed around you as you struggled to your feet.

Why the fuck was the model so strong. The Prototype loomed over you, ready to deliver a finishing blow. Summoning all your strength, You caught the descending fist in your own, muscles straining against the force. With a roar, you twisted the Prototype's arm, using its momentum to flip it over your shoulder and into a bank of computers. The impact shattered the screens and sent sparks flying as you pulled out a knife and stabbed the prototype only feeling it cut into metal. This thing wasn't a person anymore.

The Prototype snarled, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a headbutt. Stars exploded in your vision, but you fought through the pain, kicking the Prototype’s knee again, this time hearing a satisfying crunch. Breathing heavily, you didn’t let up. You charged at the downed Prototype, delivering a series of rapid punches to its torso and face.

The Prototype faltered, its movements becoming more erratic. You saw your opening, grabbed a heavy metal rod from the debris and swung it with all you might, connecting with the side of the Prototype's head. The force of the blow sent it crashing to the ground, where it laid, unconscious.

Standing admist the wreckage trying to catch your breath, you heard an "Ahem," making you jump.

"Shit," You breathed looking at Nat in the door way, "you said meet at the randevu point" you stated.

"sorry," she smiled walking over to you and cupping your face scanning you for any damage, only to see a cut lip and you clutching your rib "looking good soldier," she teased as she scanned back up to your face catching you staring, straight back at her and glancing down to her lips, you immediately flushed, backing away.

The roof further collapsed behind you, “we have to go, I've already planted the bombs” you said grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. Making it towards the facilities garage waves of Hydra operatives began to emerge.

"Shit," Nat mumbled pulling you guys back behind a wall and coming face to face, smiling at the proximity.

"Stop it," you said stepping back, "you can't keep distracting me like this."

"I don't know what your talking about," Nat smirked teasing as Hydra agents were frantically looking all around for you.

"I'm not doing this here," you stated firmly, "what do you even get out of it,” you question furthered almost exhausted. Nat pitied you in this moment, she hadn’t realized how mad she was driving you, her face softened.

"They're over here," your head's both shot to down the halls were the Hydra operatives began rushing in.

"let’s go," Natasha said grabbing your hand and booked it the other way.

Making it to the garage and pushing a crate in front of the door, Natasha had time to hijack a Hydra truck right before the doors flew open, "GO!" you shouted slamming the driver side shut and kicking a hydra agent across the room.

"Wait!" Nat shouted trying to open the door again as you pushed it shut once more.

"Just go! I'll meet you at the jet," you yelled taking out another knife.

Natasha forced herself to slam on the gas leaving you to hold off the agents. With them being unenhanced hydra cockroaches it wasn't too bad they’re was just so many of them, it’d been awhile since you’ve seen this many agents in one place. As you were throwing them and slamming them to the floor, the bombs you had planted went off in the lab went off, the building shook and flames set. The explosion allowed three agents the time to make off on motorcycles straight in Nat’s directions.

“No,” you muttered under your breath, hurling one last agent to the ground, as more of the building began to collapse, you launched into a full sprint across the Siberian snow. Your breath crystallized in the frigid air as you dodged through the trees, eyes locked on motorcycles speeding ahead. Spotting a fallen log, you seized the opportunity, using it as a makeshift ramp to propel yourself through the air. You crashed into one of the riders, sending him tumbling into the snow and commandeering his bike in one fluid motion.

Accelerating hard, you leaned low over the handlebars, feeling the icy wind whip against your face. The roar of the engine drowned out the chaos behind you as you closed in on the next target. With a quick flick of your wrist, you deployed a zip-line hook from your gauntlet, the steel cable slicing through the air and embedding itself in the frame of the bike ahead.

You toggled the slack, your muscles coiling with anticipation. At just the right moment, you yanked hard, the sudden tension in the line allowed you to throw the motorcycle and its rider careening off course. They collided with the other bike in a spectacular crash, the two vehicles intertwining and skidding across the snow in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the base in the distance, its structure collapsing floor by floor in a series of detonations. The ground trembled beneath you, the sound of destruction echoing in the frozen wilderness. You didn't slow down. There was no time to celebrate. You didn’t know if they were going to follow or not and you had to get Nat out of there.

Unbeknownst to you Natasha had witnessed the whole thing and was absolutely craving you at this point. She knew she needed you. She arrived at the Quinn jet shortly before you, jumping out the car, and immediately going to check on you.

“Are you okay,” she asked urgently grabbing your shoulders and trying to scan for any injuries before you gently pushed her hands off of you

“Let’s just get in the air,” you spoke grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the jet. You walked straight to the pilot seat and got you guys in the air. Setting it on auto pilot, Nat could sense the frustration radiating off of you. You walked right past her and into the medical area.

“Do you need any help?” She asked, as you turned your back to her and took of your mission gear leaving you in a white beater.

“No, I’m just bruised,” you said flatly as blood bled through your shirt revealing a long gash as well, “shit,” you mumbled.

“that’s not just a bruise,” she joked trying to lighten your mood

“i can see that can you just give me some space,” you snapped at her.

“okay, what’s the problem,” Nat asked walking up to you with a purpose and pulling your shoulder to make you face her

“just back off,” you said shrugging her hand off you and walking past her. You took your beater off completely and walked towards the bandages.

“it’s gonna need sti..”

“it’s not,” you cut her off, “i heal fast remember,” you opened up the sterile wipes cleaning the wound and flushing it with one of the sterile saline solutions. You gritted your teeth with pain from the wound and felt her eyes bore into your every move; it made you nervous. You reached for sterile pads to quickly knocking over a trey and hissing in pain.

“Sit down,” she said sternly. Rolling your eyes you did what was told, sitting down you raised your arm up allowing her access to pat dry the wound with sterile pads and get fresh bandages. She watched your abs flex and adjust with every move, every breath. You watched closely what her hands were doing avoiding looking at her face, “there,” she smoothed the bandage over letting out a breath.

“thanks,” you mumbled walking toward your locker for a loose jacket.

“y/n,” she called out softly walking up to you as you ignored her, "can you stop being so childish."

"Me? Childish?" you scoffed at her and rolled your eyes, "you're the one who makes all these slutty comments and feels me up at every opportunity."

"Are you serious," her volume go louder, "your upset over me flirting with you."

"Natasha, we were on a mission, a dangerous one," you shouted, "and you still, took every chance you got. I mean seriously are you in heat or something!?"

Her face flushed, "wow I didn't know your ego could get this big, I'll give you credit," she scoffed

“this isn’t an ego thing, it’s obvious you want me to fuck you, you don’t have to deny it, dont even try to,” you seethed stepping forward with practically every word, “i don’t give a fuck about you constantly flirting with me like the slut you are, no matter how much I embarrass myself, I really don’t fucking care, because I know you..you really just can’t help it” your voice dropped back to a civil level still carried with a stern sense of frustration, “I am upset because your distractions today could’ve genuinely cost us,” you stood up straight, “cost me.”

You were staring down right at her, your breaths brushed one another’s face, “what,” she whispered, “cost you what,” Nat pushed wanting to hear you say it.

“you know what,” you whispered back looking to her lips and wetting your own.

“say it, y/n” she stared at your own lips.

“cost me you Nat,” you confirmed, your gaze going back to her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Nat whispered looking up at you. You broke the gaze dropping your head and closing your eyes taking a deep breath in.

"Do you even like me," you asked barely audible.

"What?" Nat laughed shocked.

"can you just answer the question, Natasha," you said looking back into her eyes, “do you even like me, or I just something you desire.”

She could tell she was hurting you at this point, that you were genuinely upset. "Yeah," she mumbled dropping her gaze to her, hands she looked small, "I do."

You cupped her face, bring her gaze back to you, your eyes scanning over every little feature, "but you just want me to fuck you too," you whispered staring at her lips, "don't you."

"I do," she answered as your lips inched closer and closer.

"say it," you said over her lips, "tell me what you want, Natasha."

Her hands went to yours," I want.." she whispered getting closer to your lips, "I want you to fuck me, y/n" She looked up into your eyes, "please," A shit-eating grin came upon your face as one hand moved to loosely wrap around her neck and your lips finally slammed together. You roughly pushed Natasha against the other lockers causing her to let out the most wanton pornographic moan ever, fueling the pit in your stomach. Breaking apart, your hands dropped to her hips keeping her in her place as she chased after your lips for more," please, y/n, don't tease."

You laughed looking down at her already swollen lips and licking your own, "Please, Nat," you said getting closer to her lips again, "I'm going to do whatever I want after all this shit you've pulled." Your lips went to the column of her neck, resulting in more of her pretty sounds and her hands in your hair. Your hands dropped lower towards the back of her thighs giving a light pull, she immediately jumped to wrap them around you. Your lips moved back to hers, kissing passionately, you swiped your tongue across her bottom lip, her own tongue pushing into your mouth as her hips moved in search of friction. You pulled the two of you away from the wall and carried her with ease to the medical bed not once breaking the kiss.

You placed her gently on her back, crawling over her, and moving your lips back to her neck. You bit marks into what was finally yours, as your hand moved to pull down the zipper on the front of her suit, "is this okay," you asked.

Nat smiled as her hips lifted towards you and her hands went further into your hair, "more than okay," she breathed, "I'm yours," she whispered across your lips, "and I want you to do whatever you want to me," she looked into your eyes pupils completely blown. Your lips locked in another passionate kiss, this time brief. Each touch caused shivers through Nat, her breath hitching in anticipation as you pulled the zipper down further and pulled the suit from her body, exposing her skin inch by inch.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, sitting up and taking in her disheveled look as she lay in her bra and underwear.

"Take this off," she unzipped your jacket and pushed it off your shoulders. Hands scratching over your abs and back to your hair as she pulled you back into another kiss. Both breathing heavy and desperate your lips moved back to trail down Natasha's neck, leaving a path of more marks. When you finally reached Natasha's chest, your hand wrapped around to unclip her bra, your mouth immediately latching onto her nipple earning a gasp from Nat, "Y/n please," she whimpered, hands tugging in your hair to pull you closer. With a growl of need, you continued your descent, your mouth leaving a burning trail down Natasha's stomach. Kissing lightly above her underwear, you locked eye for further permission at which Nat nodded eagerly too, hooking your fingers in her underwear, Natasha's eyes fluttered shut, her hips lifting urging you to move faster.

Pulling her underwear off, Nat's core glistened with need. You couldn't help but smirk and kiss around the place she needed you most. You spread her legs wider, hands gripping her thighs firmly, as you littered love bits all over them, "Please, Y/n, I'm begging you," she moaned as you ghosted over her clit again.

The great Black Widow begging. You didn't waste another second, your mouth latched on to her core, tongue flicking out to taste what was finally yours. Natasha cried out, her back arching off the bed, causing you to moan into her core, and her to thrash more. You forced her hips down with more strength bound to leave bruises after. Your tongue moved expertly, alternating between teasing flicks and deep rough strokes. Natasha's moans gre louder, her hands pulling desperately at your hair. "Oh god, Y/n," she gasped, her body trembling.

Your grip tightened on Natasha's thighs, holding her in place further as you increased your pace. Tongue delving deeper, your mouth worked Natasha closer and closer to the edge. Natasha's moans turned into invoherent cries from the stimulation, her body writhing beneath you.

"Go ahead," you mumbled, " come for me, pretty girl," the vibrations sent Natasha over the edge as she screamed your name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

You didn't stop, your mouth continuing to work Natasha through her orgasm until she was a trembling, breathless mess. Only then did you pull back, lips glistening with Natasha's arousal. You crawled back up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"your mine," you whispered against her lips, "as I am yours."

Natasha nodded weakly, giving a blissful smile, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Always," she answered, hand still tangled in your hair.

[elysiankub]

Our cozy home ── ⟢

pairing: jayvik x fem!artist!reader

content: fluffy, poly relationship, established relationship, no mention of Y/N, smut (nsfw), MDNI!, threesome, oral male receiving, praise kink, double penetration

word account: 2.1~k

a/n: so i finally found the courage to write sth here and here it goes. please don't make it flop, i really tried my best and had this idea in my mind since S2 ended and thinking about this scenario was my only way to cope with losing my wives. english is not my first language so excuse me for any wrong spelling. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Routines were the only thing that could keep the most promising minds of Piltover at bay. When Jayce's arms ached from hammering metal or when the chalk from Viktor's endless notes made him cough terribly, arriving at the apartment they shared with their partner was the only thing that made them look forward to at the end of their day. Piltover, luckily, was the city of progress, although they always liked the idea of having something private, that only they could enjoy. They knew that they would not suffer from any discrimination, who would judge the minds that made the rich houses richer?

Almost dragging their limbs to the door of their home, they pushed the door open as they spoke in monosyllables about the routine they would do the next day to improve hextech, keep the council at bay, and make the world a better place.

The sound of pencil against paper, the smell of blue tea, and the oatmeal cookies you made zealously enough to share your recipe with Councilor Medarda made them both breathe a sigh of relief as Jayce hung his coat on the coat rack and Viktor undid his tie with a groan.

“Hey.” You greeted quietly as you closed your sketchbook and shook your hands despite the nonexistent paint or charcoal on your fingers, a flaw from spending so much time in your art studio.

As soon as you had stood up, Jayce’s arms were around your waist and his face was hidden in the crook of your neck, making your skin crawl every time he breathed in your natural fragrance. It had always seemed cute to you and Viktor how a bear of a man could be so needy and clingy to those who gave him a few words of praise and affection.

"It was a terrible day." Jayce murmured against your skin, closing the space between your chests even further and placing small kisses on your skin.

"Oh babe, why? What happened?" You asked stroking his hair with one hand and putting the other against his shoulder, comforting him as if your life depended on it. Your eyes were guided to the thinner man who walked, limping, towards you with his crutch and placed a kiss on your forehead before heading into the kitchen with little intention of comforting his boyfriend. "Vik?"

"Polly wants a cookie." He said in a monotone voice with that heavy accent that made you and Jayce feel just a little excited when you heard him speak, even if the first thing he said in the mornings was that the milk was expired. As soon as his slender fingers found the plate of cookies and held it close to his chest, almost near his collarbones, he deigned to have a more focused look. "He's exaggerating, wants attention."

"Liar." Jayce scolded, tilting his head and looking at his lover with half his face hidden in your shoulder.

"He was summoned to a meeting with the Council to discuss Hextech's progress and he had to listen to what everyone wanted to say for-"

"For almost three hours!"

Jayce's voice was clearly listless and tired and Viktor could only nod as he took a bite of another of the cookies he had in his hands. You just shook your head and let Jayce hunch over until his head was between your breasts, giving small kisses on your skin and growling almost like a wet and angry puppy. You couldn't help but laugh at the image but you just took Jayce's cheeks in your hands and caressed the small stubble that was beginning to appear from the little time you had spent at home the last few days.

"How about you two go and take a bath? Afterwards we can get some sleep, okay?"

Jayce just nodded, leaning down to capture your lips with his and retreating after a few minutes to the bathroom in the room. When you were going to approach Viktor, he just handed you his plate with a satisfied face. He had a bad habit of getting upset when he didn't eat, although strangely enough he always forgot to eat.

"How...?" You asked, seeing that in less than five minutes he had finished the entire plate of cookies you had left to cool.

"Meh. Something I learned a long time ago." Viktor said, shrugging his shoulders and giving you a smile as he walked to the bathroom to join Jayce in the shower. Of course, people in Zaun had to eat fast or eat nothing. It was the law of the strongest. No matter how much Viktor had risen in social class, it was hard to teach an old dog new tricks.

The home was dimly lit with the yellow lights that Jayce had installed, to save on heating or at least that's what they told themselves. In reality, the lights went further than just tricking your brain into thinking the place was warm. The tone made your lips shine even more, Jayce's skin looked like the dull fire of a campfire and Viktor's eyes resembled the gold of the walls. Plus it was so comfortable to see that tone, the three of you hugged under the covers and hiding from the cold that was outside your apartment.

None of you had ever had a real home, really. You had fought so much that you had forgotten what a single moment of peace was, where you shouldn't be under the public eye of the Council, writing down the Dean's endless to-do notebooks and hating the deadline dates for the family pictures of each important house.

Each one had their assigned task and their favorite at the same time. Jayce loved cooking, waking you and Viktor up to the smell of hot pancakes and coffee, or quickly thinking of what he could make for dinner when everyone finished their chores and gathered back at home. Viktor, oh right, the laundry. There wasn’t a stain that wasn’t removed by his hands and clothes that weren’t neatly folded in the drawers assigned to each one.

After tidying up the kitchen a bit so Jayce wouldn’t end up freaking out the next morning, you went up to the shared room with the long bed with white sheets that the three of you used, throwing your sandals somewhere in the room as you climbed into bed to wait for your partners, who didn’t take long to emerge from the bathroom.

Viktor came out in a large t-shirt and only his underwear underneath, sitting on the bed and adjusting the knee immobilizer that kept him standing and taking his place on the bed. Jayce walked out with just a towel around his waist and rummaged through the drawers for his boxers, which he slid up until they covered his manhood.

Shortly after taking your place, the sound of springs under the bed, a strong heat on your side and the weight of strong arms and legs against your body disoriented you a little until you distinguished the figure of Jayce giving you kisses on the cheeks and shoulder. At the side of you, Viktor seemed completely unaware of the situation, with the book he had been putting off for a long time because he 'didn't have time to read' and a frown as he refused to wear reading glasses despite the tired eyesight he normally had.

That fluttering heat that settles in your stomach appeared in yours, when Jayce's kisses descended towards your shoulders and chest leaving open, clumsy and wet kisses against your sensitive skin for the human oven that was your partner.

"Let me..." You said in a sigh, taking Jayce's shoulders and guiding him until he lay down on the bed, his skin contrasting against the sheets and that made it even more exciting.

Your hands traced his body with desire but with that ever-present admiration, almost like touching a newly made statue that could crumble at any moment if you showed it a little disdain. The marks of fire, hammer blows and effort on his skin were reminiscent of cracks in the ground, strong and present but so intimidating that you can only have respect and even desire for them.

The artist's delirium, seeing everything poetic, even sex.

The bulge in Jayce's boxers became more and more evident as his partner's fingers went down to the hem of his underwear to remove it, it hadn't even helped to put them on in the first place. His breathing shortened a little and he searched for oxygen on Viktor's lips, whom he took by the cheeks while searching for his mouth with his eyes closed until he found it. The man didn't know how to react for a moment, deep in reading and still looking at the pages of his book, but the dark-haired boy's kisses made him postpone his reading, perhaps for later.

Your hand also made its way to Viktor's new one as you noticed his now active participation in the act, running your fingertips with almost torturous tenderness over the nascent bulge in his crotch.

As soon as you realized, they were both naked, as were you, but your mouth was too busy to utter any complaints.

"Fuck... Just like that-" A moan cut short Jayce's compliment, arching his back and pushing his member further into your mouth as if that were still possible. His moans tasted delicious and even yours did to him, as the vibrations you generated on his sensitive tip made him see stars and squeeze the hand of his lab partner, who was perhaps in the same position.

Viktor's shaft throbbed with a need that your hand alone couldn't satisfy, as the image was enough to make him jealous of your mouth and, in turn, of Jayce's manhood. His hand lowered to your cheek, although only the back of his hand touched your chin, as a slight plea to receive the same attention from you.

Obediently, you continued to please Jayce with your hand, while your mouth opened to receive Viktor and wet his tip with the combination of your saliva and his precum. A shiver ran through his body as he nodded and looked at you with barely open eyes.

"So good." He said as he rested his cheek on Jayce's shoulder, who was quick to rest his temple on Viktor's head.

"She's so good, isn't she? Always so—ah—eager to help us."

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the compliments, just hearing them had made you so wet that it even hurt not to feel even a little touch, but no. Your boys were feeling good, and that was all that mattered tonight.

Just when you thought about continuing until your brain turned to pudding, Viktor's slender hands pulled you away from his center. You automatically wanted to go back to your work but you noticed Jayce's hands on your waist, from behind, guiding you to lie a little on top of Viktor and looking at his face.

His moles, oh his moles. Those were definitely stars in the dark night, contrasting with his pale skin but since you loved to kiss him little by little until you physically remembered where they were, you could remember each one even if you were blind.

The wet tips of your lovers brushed against your two entrances almost at the same time and you only felt a shiver run down your spine as you nodded. Words were not necessary when two beautiful men wanted to give you pleasure, and boy did they.

The initial sting was never missing but then it turned into tickling which turned into pleasure. When one entered, the other left and the room had become its own sanctuary of pleasure, carnal sounds and the incessant rubbing of skin. The humidity and heat of Viktor's body holding yours, and Jayce's chest against his back could almost make you faint but the pleasure kept you awake and moaning incoherently while both of them kept kissing any part of your skin they could reach and why not? Biting a little on the skin that gave them so much delight.

One finished, then another and finally the last one. Leaving them tired, satisfied, belonging to the other. The stress of the day to day as scientists dissolved in the sheets and was forgotten when they saw their seed run down your body, then cleaned it with a handkerchief to avoid accidents in bed, as on other occasions. Hugged, reciting words of adoration and light kisses, sleep took over each one and they gave in to the temptation to dream.

Routine could perhaps consume Jayce and Viktor, but a little touch, kiss or word made them forget it. It made them feel, made them live.

[sinnabarmoth]

Under the Weather

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Zayne)

“Miss! You have to come over right away! He won’t listen to anyone else we fear. Please come as soon as you can!” Was the message that Luke and Kieran had left on your phone. Panicked that Sylus was doing something stupid and reckless, even for him, you sped over to the N109 zone as fast as you could.

You pulled up to the mansion and rushed inside. “Luke, Kieran, what is it? What’s going on with Sylus?”

“He’s back in his bedroom,” Luke said, “He won’t let us in.”

“But what happened?”

“You just need to see for yourself. Please, you’re our only hope.” Kieran ushered you back to Sylus’s bedroom.

You were scared about what you may end up finding on the other side of that door. Whatever Sylus was doing that had the twins this concerned couldn’t be good. You took a deep breath and knocked. “Sylus? Are you in there?”

“Go away.” he called through the door but he didn’t sound right.

“Not a chance, babe.” you opened the door but didn’t immediately see him. “Sylus?”

“I said to go away.” you turned toward the bathroom and found your boyfriend sitting on the floor, his face pressed against the seat of the toilet. When he saw you he groaned. “I told them not to call you.”

“Are you…are you sick?” you knelt down next to him and felt his forehead. “Oh god, Sylus, you’re burning up.”

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh, just a cold. That’s why you’re in here hovering over the toilet.” you rolled your eyes. “Have you even taken any medicine?”

His frown deepened. “For the love of--” you stood up and rifled through his cabinets and pulled out some fever and flu medicine. “Take these.” you put the pills in his hand and got him a cup of water. “Drink.”

He must not have had the energy to fight you because he did as you commanded without even a little pushback. Any other time he was such a brat. This fever must be really hard on him. “Keep drinking, we don’t need you getting dehydrated.” you kept the cup to his lips, not stopping until he had drank everything.

“Thank you. I’ll be fine now.” he said.

“If you think you’re getting rid of me that easily you are sorely mistaken.” you grabbed a small hand towel and soaked it in cold water. You pressed it against his burning face and you saw the way he sighed in relief. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you can even get sick.”

“I’m just full of surprises.” he sighed. For someone who was already pale he looked positively pallid now.

“Come on, let’s get you to the bed.” you helped pull him to his feet, taking it slow so his legs didn’t give out underneath him. As gently as you could you set him back down on the bed and pressed the cool towel to his forehead. You then grabbed a trash can and set it next to the bed just in case he had to puke.

“My poor guy,” you grabbed another towel and started wiping away the sweat on his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“I was handling it.” he said.

“Very poorly. If you weren’t already sick I’d punish you for taking such poor care of yourself.” you sat next to him on the bed. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about needing help, Sylus. If I was sick and I tried to hide it from you, how would you react?”

He closed his eyes. “I’d say you were an idiot.”

“Exactly. And now, I don’t want to have to take advantage of a sick person but desperate times call for desperate measures. Until you are feeling well again I am in charge of you. Understood?”

A breath of a chuckle left him. “Yes, kitten.”

“Good. Have you tried eating anything yet today?”

“Been a bit preoccupied.”

“Got it. Be right back.” you went out to the kitchen and started rifling through the cabinets, finding some instant oatmeal and bananas. You assured Luke and Kieran that you had Sylus well in hand and that they didn’t need to worry about him. They both looked relieved. They cared about their boss so much, it was cute.

You also quickly brewed some tea and brought the tray of food back to his room. “This should be easy enough on your stomach.” you set the tray down on the bed and spooned some oatmeal up. “Open.”

“Feeding me now?”

“If you want to do it yourself--” he cut you off by licking the spoon clean. “That’s better.”

You kept feeding him bites of oatmeal and giving him sips of tea until some of the color started to return to his face. “Looks like the medicine is finally starting to kick in.” you replaced the cloth on his forehead for a fresh one. “Feeling any better?”

“Much. But I don’t know how much the medicine had to do with it.” he grazed your hand.

“The medicine helped plenty, but I’ll happily take the rest of the credit.” you reclined next to him, tucking yourself against his side. “I was really worried when the twins called me.”

“Apologies, kitten. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s in my nature to worry.” you rested a hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Next time you’re feeling poorly, tell me. Okay?”

“Okay.” he closed his eyes. “I rather like having you fret over me. My kitten takes charge so gently. You can’t help being sweet, even when you’re being bossy.”

“I’d rather you do as I say because you want to rather than because I forced you. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, as the saying goes. Or in this case I guess I’m catching crows.” you poked his chest. “Now get some rest, I’ll be right here by your side.”

“What if I get you sick?”

“Then we’ll be sick together and have to rely on Luke and Kieran to take care of us.” you chuckled. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. Just rest.”

“Fine.” he looped an arm around you, keeping you close to him. “And thank you.” he murmured before finally falling asleep.

You kissed his cheek. “Anything for you, my love.”

[kumkaniudaku]

Sorry 2024

Summary: This is Terry's sorry for 2024. He ain't gonna mess up no more this year.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

Previous: *Askew

Pastel blue light filtered through linen curtains and filled the quaint kitchen while Patrice maneuvered between the refrigerator and nearby counter. She spoke a mile a minute, running through a laundry list of important tasks and updates to keep Terry aware of the day’s needs. 

He halfway listened while he scarfed down piping hot oatmeal to satisfy post-workout hunger and used his index finger to scrub backward on game film from the previous week. His receiver core was shaky at best. They’d need to tighten up in the final game of the season if they planned to start their playoff run strong and remain in the hunt for a the ever elusive state championship.

“Honey, don’t forget I’m driving your truck to work because you’re getting my oil changed during your lunch. Where are the keys?” The sugar-sweet lilt in her voice reserved for Terry and Terry only went mostly unnoticed by her husband. 

“Yeah. That’s good, baby.”

Patrice paused packing her lunch and shifted her weight to one side with a hand on her hip. “You’re not even listening to me.” 

“I heard you,” he answered, finally looking up. 

“What did I say?” 

“That you’re taking the leftovers. That’s good with me. I’ll grab something on base.” 

“I said that fifteen minutes ago. Strike two.” 

Terry’s mouth hung open for a half second as he thought back through their one-sided conversation. Admittedly, his mind was split into a million different streams of thought. Work problems, coaching responsibilities, household bills, the incoming holiday season, and its host of arrangements all fought for his attention day in and day out, leaving little room for intentional quality time with his wife. 

For Patrice, the indifference toward her when she talked to him was frustrating and getting old. On too many occasions she’d forgiven him for staring off into space or flat-out ignoring her when she spoke. If silence is what he wanted, she was well on the way to granting his wish. 

Swallowing down a gulp of water, Terry rushed to respond. “Woah, woah! Two? What was the first?” 

“I asked you to turn the dryer on last night while I took a shower and guess who woke up to wet clothes this morning? C’mon. Guess!” 

“Oh, shit.” Terry’s face contorted as he winced at the memory finally returning. 

“Oh shit. Go away.” She mocked with an exaggerated deep voice before rolling her eyes and making a face. Mimicry, in his experience since the tender age of 15, was usually the prelude to a vicious attitude that had turned many into sworn enemies for life.

“My bad, Treece. I started wa-” 

“Watching tape and forgot. Sing me a different song, Terrence.” 

The disappointment etched in her beautiful features sent Terry’s stomach into the soles of his feet. Patrice’s full lips sagged into a heavy frown as she wrestled food containers into her lunchbox without looking in his direction. He could take her mumbling her anger or sending more than a few curse words his way. But the sadness in her silence was too much. 

After pressing pause on his screen, Terry took measured steps toward Patrice to avoid disturbing an angry lion. 

He touched her hip first to test the waters. When she didn’t reject him, he moved in to take up space behind her and pull her back against his body. He pressed a soft kiss behind her ear. “I won’t make excuses. Forgive me, sweetheart. It won’t happen again.” 

Resistance faded slowly but surely as he nuzzled his nose into her neck between kisses. Tense muscles melted under his touch, relishing the extra attention meant to settle a disagreement. Anger fought to remain the chief emotion. Everything in her wanted to continue forging a war path until she was satisfied with the destruction. But she’d always had a weakness for this man with a smooth baritone and big hands that he loved to rub up and down her body.

She kissed her teeth before turning to plant a kiss on his cheek as a silent truce. “Whatever. You’re lucky I like you more than most other people.” 

“What I gotta do to get that like to a love before you leave the house?” 

Patrice pulled Terry’s bottom lip into another kiss and smiled. “It’d be great if you confirmed you used your mama’s Costco card to get the study hall snacks like we talked about.” 

Terry froze. For days he’d had the nagging feeling that he was neglecting a task. Something important but vague among all of the other thoughts and responsibilities swirling in his head. He’d hoped for a reminder, but not like this, not on the heels of wriggling his way out of Patrice’s wrath only moments before. 

Ever perceptive, Patrice didn’t need him to speak to know that he’d, once again, missed a memo. Anger was back from its short hiatus and making her body hot to the touch in a way Terry had been spared from his entire life. 

She fought to wrestle free from his grasp, her body thrashing until he relented and let her go. Terry watched her stomp around the kitchen, snatching items from the counter and forcing them into her bag on her way to the front door. He remained hot on her heels with pleas to make things right on his lips until she stopped short at the coat closet.

“Strike three! You’re so fuckin’ selfish sometimes, Terry, I swear.” She grumbled as she swapped her car keys for his on their shared personal items hook. “I thought you would grow out of that by now but here you are, damn near 33 years old, and still doing the same shit.”  

The dig at his past transgressions stung more than Terry expected. He tried to maintain his composure though the wounded man inside wanted to get to the bottom of why she’d chosen to toss such an insult out so casually. 

He took a deep breath to quell the combative questions clawing through his throat while he watched her shrug on her coat with spite in her eyes. “Look, I messed up. We don’t need to start throwing jabs back and forth. How can I help?”

His attempt to reach out for her hand was thwarted once she snatched away to yank open the front door.

“Terrence, the time to help was early this week. Hell, last night even. I don’t have time for your sorry this morning. I gotta go figure this out by myself yet again.” 

Immense guilt attached itself to Terry, producing a heavy heart as he tried to make sense of Patrice’s most venomous blowup to date. Never had she been so crass toward him, not even when he deserved it most. She’d always been the pinnacle of grace and forgiveness. What scared him most was the suspicion that she was more unhappy with his disappearing act than she’d let on in all their honest talks about their path forward after heartbreak. Half of him wanted to chase her into the early morning chill, stop her from leaving, and convince her to call in so that they could sort through every issue, past and present, until they were back on the right side of newlywed bliss. Rational thought told him that some things were best solved through action.

Bitterness fueled the remainder of Patrice’s day. Jokes in the breakroom were no longer funny. Her class clowns were less charming by fourth period. A fierce bout of irritability resulted in a pop quiz for her senior AP English class for not participating in the group discussion to her liking. Every second of every minute carried a dark, heavy cloud that she couldn’t shake. 

She wanted to scream at Terry until her chest caved in from exhaustion. She wanted to throw things across the room, destroying every item in her path until the sting of compounded letdowns, actions he wasn’t even responsible for, was distilled back into the tiny box of rage she kept tucked away in her heart. She kept it hidden on purpose. If it ever got loose, there was no guarantee she could fix the damage it left behind. 

Once school bells had rang and children were carted off to their respective homes, Patrice sat behind her desk with a small committee of cheerleaders congregating in her classroom. She kept her focus on grading the mountain of quizzes she’d created for herself, silently ready to give everyone extra credit for the attempt. 

“Ms. Ellis,” Alana, her captain, started as she dusted Doritos remnants from her fingers. 

Mikayla cut in. “It’s Mrs. Richmond now. She got married! You see her ring.”

“And you ain’t invite us?” Alana gasped, pretending to be offended. “That’s cold Mrs. Richmond. I thought we were cool.” 

“We’re cool, Lana. I didn’t know I was getting married until it happened. No one was invited.” 

“Can I at least see that big ol’ diamond up close?” 

Young girls with fairytales and romance novels seared into their perception of love begged for a chance to see Patrice’s wedding band up close. With more energy, she would shoo them away and redirect them to the bulletin board they abandoned to snack and gossip amongst each other. But arguments before work were taxing and all she could bring herself to do was push away from her desk and join them in the center of their circle with her hand outstretched for their inspection.

Oooh, ahhs, and everything in between overlapped as each young lady took her turn running their fingers up against the clear stone and white gold band engraved with her new initials. 

“I want me a ring just like this!” Camille explained as she took a picture to send to her boyfriend. 

“Can we see your husband? Is he nice like you?” 

Patrice paused. “Uh…yeah. He’s a nice man. You all should be with nice boys, or girls, or whoever you like. Don’t allow anyone to be anything less than nice to you.” 

“Okay, but can we see him,” another girl reiterated. 

“It’s Coach Richmond, duh,” Mikayla exclaimed. “They got the same last name. And they was in this old yearbook together. I saw it in Ms. Shields's class when we were having a yearbook meetin’.” 

More oohs and ahhs, this time fawning over the new football coach on campus and the picture Mikayla had saved to her cellphone. Patrice listened to them gush over the thorn in her side as she eased into a desk to take the pressure off her aching feet. 

Camille looked between the photo and Patrice with a smile. “He was your boyfriend when y’all went here?” 

“For a little bit. Right before we graduated. But we broke up that summer.” 

“How come?”

“He wanted to go to the military and I wanted to go to college,” Patrice answered after a deep sigh. “So, he went his way and I went mine because I wasn’t changing my mind. Remember that. Do what you wanna do. You have a whole life ahead of you.” 

The girls all mumbled some version of their agreeance before another question pushed the tea session forward. 

“Then how did y’all get married. He came back?” 

Patrice smiled at the memory of Terry standing on her porch that fateful summer morning. “Yeah. He just…came back. We talked and never stopped talking after that until he became my husband.”

“Did he say sorry at least?” 

“He always says sorry. All the time. He’s nice like that.” 

A chorus of swooning ‘awws’ rang out in the classroom and escaped into the hallway. Terry was nice like that. It didn’t matter that Patrice wanted to hate him and call him every name but a child of God. He always apologized and he always meant it. 

A distant smile covered Patrice’s face as she twirled her wedding band around her finger. 

Camille took the opportunity to poke fun at her coach. “Aww, look at Mrs. Richmond, y’all. She smiling big! You gon’ let him come to the AP Christmas party?” 

“That ain’t fair! I’m not in AP English and I wanna see him.” 

“Oh my God, we all gon' see him at the games. Calm down.” 

“Alright, alright, alright.” Patrice couldn’t contain her laughter at their eagerness to meet a man two times their senior with no interest in them outside of their connection to her. “Maybe you’ll meet him one day. Today, I need y’all to hurry up and-” 

A knock at the door interrupted Patrice, bringing her attention to a tall, slender young man who instantly turned heads. He smiled bashfully at all the ogling until Patrice redirected his eyes with a wave of her hand.

“What’s up, Deanté? You leave something in here?” 

“Nah. Coach Rich told us to bring some stuff to you. Where you want us to put it?” 

“Umm, I guess you can put it back here by my bookshelves,” she directed, pointing to the back of the room. Confusion created fine lines on her forehead. “I’m sorry, what’s happening?” 

Deanté shrugged in the way only teenaged boys too cool for school could before waving in the rest of his crew. Each of them came bearing the gift of snacks, carrying boxes of wholesale goodies to their intended place like worker ants serving their queen. Chips, cookies, pretzels, juices, and water stacked high along the wall instantly turned her quaint classroom into a stockroom until they’d delivered the final package. Bringing up the rear was Terry with flowers in one hand and a carryout bag from Patrice’s favorite bakery in the other. 

Pressed khaki slacks and a cotton polo fighting for dominance against his veiny bicep should’ve thanked him for making them look better than they ever could alone. Patrice wrestled her gaze away from his long legs to look away before she ended up flustered in front of impressionable children.

He lightly knocked against the door, his gaze soft and his smile welcoming. “May I come in?” 

Like the audience track from a 90s sitcom, young girls squeal in his presence, making him chuckle. Patrice rushed to control the madness. 

“See, this is why I have to keep my eye on y’all. Head to the gym and warm up. I’ll meet y’all down there.” They groaned their displeasure in a last-ditch attempt to buy more time with Terry. She re-emphasized her instructions. “Go on. For every second I have to keep looking at y’all after I’m done talking, that’s a lap. One, two, three…”

Quick feet and the threat of additional exercise cleared the room quickly, leaving Terry at the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Patrice stood and straightened her turtleneck before inviting him inside. 

“Come in. Close the door behind you.”

Terry did as he was told in silence, hoping to appease the Queen in her castle. Patrice tried to remain stoic as she approached her portable lectern to thumb through the day’s notes and lesson plans. He deposited the flowers onto a nearby shelf then slid into a desk at the front of the class and waited for her to at least acknowledge him beyond a fleeting glance. 

Finally, she looked up and pointed at the white bag resting in front of him. “Is that for me?” 

“Yeah,” Terry smiled. “I haven’t seen you grab one in a while so I hope you still like the cinnamon roll. If not, I got the lemon loaf too. Your other favorite.” 

After all those years separating their adulthood from an entire semester of sneaking away during lunch for a warm, doughy signature roll, Patrice couldn’t believe Terry still remembered such a trivial detail. 

She bit her bottom lip to hide a smile as two short steps took her to the desk beside him. Metal creaked against the floor while they turned to face each other in seats too small for Terry who had come a long way from his high school physique. 

Terry watched Patrice quietly remove her treat from the bag and cut it in half with a plastic knife. She carefully placed one side on a clean napkin and passed it across the small gap separating them. 

She lifted her portion into the air and smiled a friendly smile. “Cheers?” 

“Cheers.” 

Their respective hunks of roll kissed the other briefly before they took big bites to satisfy early afternoon cravings. Terry chuckled as Patrice hummed her satisfaction with her eyes closed and shoulders lifted near her ears. 

A little piece of Heaven. He was happy to provide anything other than the strife he contributed hours earlier. 

“Thank you,” Patrice whispered once the delight of her first bite had passed and her eyes were open again. “It’s still my favorite. You were right.” 

He didn’t respond past a small nod and a small half smile as he watched her enjoy another bite. His thumbs nervously twiddled around themselves while he wrote and erased apologetic statements in his mind in a search for what to say next. 

“Treece, I can’t say enough how sorry I am.” 

“We don’t need to do this. I overreacted and threw things in your face.” She started, trying to stop the uncomfortable discussion before it could start. 

Terry remained steadfast. “No, you didn’t. You called me out and it was the right thing to do. I have been selfish and you’ve caught the brunt of that for a long time now. It’s not fair.” 

“I just…fuck.” Tears that Patrice had managed to keep at bay during work forced their way past her waterline before she could stop them. She dabbed at them with a napkin and took a deep breath. “I’ve had to be really independent for a long time. Relationships didn’t stop me from doing things on my own because they convinced me that asking for help made me weak. Then you came along and immediately took on more than I could’ve ever asked.”

“That’s what I’m here for, baby.” 

“Yeah, but when you stop all of a sudden or pick and choose when you wanna help, it makes me afraid that one day, you’re gonna stop altogether like everyone else. And I really, really can’t take you being like everyone else.” 

Another layer of Patrice had been shed to leave behind an emotionally raw, vulnerable woman searching for an anchor in her life. The tears were gone, but they left evidence of deep-seated hurt on her face. 

Terry reached across his desk for her hand which she offered without protest though she refused to look him in the eyes. He kissed her knuckles softly, paying special attention to her ring finger before lacing their fingers. 

Sad eyes looked across at her. “You’re my main priority. If you want me to drop all this extra shit, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Say the word and it’s gone.”

“I don’t want that. Be honest with me. Listen to me. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Okay,” he spoke into the inside of her wrist. “Give me a chance to be better.” 

“You already are.” 

Where misunderstanding has once festered, a flower of progress bloomed. They’d traversed uncharted territory as a unit to find common ground that would lay the foundation for years to come. 

Patrice made the first move toward reconciliation, standing from her desk to meet Terry at his side. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, tilting his head up to hers as she stood over him. 

“I love you. Always. I might still be a little miffed, but I’ll get over it. Promise.” She landed a flurry of kisses on his forehead and he accepted while he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“I understand. I’ll earn your trust again.” 

Fuzzy feelings and chaste affection in what they believed was a safe space were cut short when a small yelp and thud sent a group of girls crashing to the tile floor, pushing her door ajar.

Patrice giggled along with Terry as she turned to get a look at the spectacle. “That’s what you get for being nosey. Now get to the gym for real this time.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Richmond,” they all chanted as they scrambled to stand and scatter. 

Terry listened for them to exit hearing range before turning back to Patrice and leaning up to kiss her lips. 

“I’ll be done with practice at 6:30 sharp and come straight home. Don’t worry about dinner or anything else. Let me handle it.”

“No problem.”

Final kisses and another promise to be home on time sent Terry and Patrice in opposite directions with optimism pumping through their veins. Tomorrow would bring its own storms and issues to work out. But, those were tomorrow’s problems. 

Today, they’d lick their wounds and settle next to each other on the couch with love in their hearts and the taste of each other on their lips to make every hard time worth the end result.

-----

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[thebibliosphere]

tw: content under a cut for talking about calorie counting (in a positive way), restrictive medical diets, and MCAS 'remission.'

So it's been 5 months since I last saw the GI doctor who took me seriously regarding my mast cell dysfunction, and not only have I gained a LOT of foods back into my diet under his care without experiencing idiopathic anaphylaxis, but I've also managed to eat 2000 calories almost every day for the last 5 months.

Prior to his care, since 2020, I had been mostly surviving on a liquid diet with the odd bit of solid carbs and protein when I could handle it.

Which was better than the 2 things I could digest safely prior to 2019, which were oatmeal and filtered tap water toward the end when I was dying. But even after I recovered from that, any time I went over 700 calories a day in solid food, I'd be writhing in pain.

I still have days when the pain hits, and all I can manage is liquids, but those days are so much less, and thanks to being able to eat more foods, I can at least liquidate more nutrients to make sure I'm getting what I need.

Things will never be 100% healed. That's not the nature of this kind of immune disease. But they're better. I'm better. I'm still so scared to say any of this is in remission because MCAS is wildly unpredictable. But I'm so much better than I was.

And I'm going to go happy-cry and eat a gluten-free cupcake about it.

[heartfullofleeches]

I want to teach Carnis that normal foods can be sweet too like they likes. I bet they ate a lot of oatmeal back in the facility but those monsters probably gave it to him plain and boring and bland.

I make a MEAN bowl of oatmeal. I would add cinnamon and nutmeg, liberally sprinkle brown sugar, and add some honey drizzle on top. Maybe I should cut some apples up in there too, they like fruit.

I just imagine it being the early days and he gets nervous when I serve him the bowl because he's used to being treated badly but I gently encourage him to try it and he eats like 3 bowls.

Yan Lab Experiment Drabble

The last thing Carnis wanted was to come off as ungrateful.

The debts they owed you could never be paid in full. Their freedom was one thing, but finding a purpose for themselves is what gave their sheltered life new meaning. You gave them that purpose. Carnis longs for the day he'll understand the outside world the same way you do. Until then, the experiences you hand pick for him are more than they could ask for or repay from anyone.

Carnis would follow you through every bump and hurdle. Regardless of their blind faith in you, they didn't know if you could guide them through this.

"I r...remember...this stuff."

They always hated it. On top of tests and questions, Carnis dreaded mornings for the very meal placed in front of them. It was like stuffed wet paper into their mouth- Near tasteless, plain, some days they weren't even given the luxury of having it warm.

Yours, on the other hand- Could the two be placed in the same category?

For starters, yours was thicker than they recalled. If their memory served them correctly, the right word to use for the texture of your oatmeal was creamy. The smell was.. undefinable. The warm scent of cinnamon spliced with the soft, sweet aroma of honey. Carnis was lucky to receive a sugar packet or two from the kind doctor who took pity on them. Coupled with the fresh chunks of fruit you topped with oatmeal off with it was like breakfast and a snack in one.

Carnis stirs awkwardly in his chair; hunger digging at the walls of their stomach yet their hands lay in their lap - fingers picking at the skin of their palm. The oatmeal looked good. Smelt good too. They wanted to appreciate all your hard work, but after so many years of eating the same slop - their eyes lacked the appetite their stomach was cursed with.

"Ah!"

Their spine shoots straight as an arrow as hands rest gently between their shoulder blades. Sensing their distress, you massage at the center point of the tension in their back, mindful of their sensitivity to touch.

"I know what you're probably thinking. I didn't think it looked the most appetiting when I first tried it, but one bite and I was in love. It's one of my favorites to eat now-"

"Favorite?... Favorite..." If someone as kind as you likes it as much as you claim, surely it can't be that bad...

Carnis tentatively wields their spoon, brushing the chunks of apple off to the side as they dig in. If they really weren't a fan, surely eating some part of it would still make you happy, right? They bring the spoon closer to their mouth, tensing as the metal clinks against their teeth. The hybrid steels their nerves and the tremors of their hand - shutting their eyes tightly as they take a bite.

...

"You did really well today... Carnis... I brought you something new to try. Keep it a secret between me and you, alright? I'll tell you what it is when you're older."

Sweetness. Their first taste of it can after one of the worst experiences they had in the lab. He couldn't feel his legs for days- Had they not been able to see them, Carnis would've believed they had been cut off for good. A sugar cube was granted to them for all their suffering- And it was worth it.

Carnis didn't know what they did to deserve this.

The spoon is swiftly discarded. Carnis picks up the bowl with both hands, switching to one as the oatmeal pours into their mouth too slowly for their liking. Using their fingers, Carnis inhales every oat - Their feast cut short by a small chunk of apple catching in their throat.

"Carnis!" As the cow coughs, you quickly lift the untouched glass of milk on the table to their lips for them to drink. "Slow down- It's not gonna run away from you."

Carnis barely seems fazed by nearly choking themselves on a slice of fruit.

"M...more? Please? I'd like more. I-if it's not too much trouble."

Desperate hands cling onto the hem of your shirt. You wipe stray tears from his eye as he begs. "There's a whole pot on the stove- You can have as much as you want."

"Y..you... Can.. can you teach me? How to.. make it? Oatmeal...and other goods food- I wanna make things for you.. too... I want you to be.. be happy too...."

[afro-hispwriter]

My Dornish Love(3)

Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader

Summary- you and aemond discover you have some common interests 

Warnings- mentions of poisoning, some sexual thoughts? 

ferronniere- a headband that circles that forehead and will usually have a gem of sorts in the middle(or plain depending on where)

wc- 2.3k

1 2

-

Aemond waited patiently in the Library. A plate of food and a cup was next to him and a book opened. Another plate was across from him as well as a cup. 

The doors pushed open and you came rushing in, starting one of the other maesters. You wore a vibrant violet dress that made Aemonds own violet eye widen. You looked absolutely gorgeous. And the ferronniere really tied it all together.

“Good morrow my prince, I’m sorry I’m late.” You say and pull a chair out and sit down.

“It's alright, and no need for formalities. You called me by my name all yesterday.” Aemond gave you a tiny smirk.

“Yes, but we were around people who don’t particularly care, here in the Keep it is best to keep up appearances.” You lifted your hands onto the table. “Can we eat? I'm hungry.” 

“No need to ask, my lady.” You didn’t have to get told twice as you grabbed the biscuit and took a bite. Aemond caught a glimpse of your hand and forearm and he shut the book. “What happened to you?” He pointed at your arms and you looked up at him.

“Oh, I'm alright, it's just me and Thea discovered how much cats don’t enjoy baths.” You laughed nervously.

“Your handmaiden could have done that for you.” He says bluntly. 

“It’s alright, I like getting my hands dirty.” 

“Hmm. I should get the maester to check them.” He pushes his chair back and you grab his wrist. 

“Nonsense, eat first.” He yanked his wrist out of your grip and you drew your hand back. 

“It can wait.” He walks past the table.

“No, it can’t, the first meal of the day is very important. Especially for a prince and swordsman such as yourself.” Aemond stopped in his tracks and his jaw tensed.

“They could get infected.” 

“I’ve been poisoned before, this is nothing.” Aemond turned around with a shocked look on his face. 

“Poisoned?” He sounded intrigued now.

“I can tell you about it if you sit back down and eat with me.” You fluttered your eyelashes at him and he sighed. Aemond made his way back around the table and sat down. He grabbed the grapes and popped two in his mouth. His actions satisfied you and you cut the sausages in pieces. “So when me and Deziel were younger, we snuck into the storage where they keep the poisons because we just wanted to see them, but Deziel being Deziel. He grabs manticore venom and the twat drops it on me. I scream and end up getting cut which lets the venom go into my body.” 

“How did your parents react?” You laughed and Aemond dipped his spoon into his oatmeal. 

“There was a panic, my body had already weakened by the time they retrieved the antidote. Deziel didn’t see the outside of his room for almost two months, my mother was so angry.” You hunched over in a laugh and Aemond let his face relax and smile. You had such a pretty laugh but then you stopped. Aemond’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion until he remembered.

“I'm sorry.” He says.

“It was a long time ago.” 

“And still fresh on your mind.” You huffed and leaned back.

“No need for all this sadness, this is about you so how is your morning so far?” Aemond took a sip of the contents of his cup.

“I trained with Ser Criston and visited Vhagar.”

“I’ve heard stories of how big she is.” Aemond watched a glint in your eye of interest.

“Would you like to see her?” You drew back and your eyes widened. 

“I don’t think that's wise.” He finished his last grapes and grabbed his spoon again. 

“And why's that, princess? Are you scared?” He looked at you mischievously and you frowned.

“Of course I'm scared, I've never seen a dragon, and what if she knows?” You pouted.

“Knows what?” You sighed.

“That I'm Dornish.” There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Then you heard it. A tiny little giggle and Aemond’s shoulder moved up and down. You frowned and scoffed. “It's not funny.” Your face burnt in embarrassment.

“What do you think Vhagar would do if she sensed you were Dornish? Eat you?” He asks and you shrug.

“Maybe! Dragons are smart, she fought in two wars against Dorne! My people had killed her own sister in arms.” Aemond kept an amusing look. “You’re mean.” You flicked a blueberry at him, hitting him in the cheek. 

“How unladylike of you.” You rolled your eyes. “But at least you know your history.” 

“Did you think I was stupid?” You cock your head. 

“Not at all, but not many ladies pride themselves on learning these things.” 

“Well, there's not much to do on Dorne rather than watch people fight to the death, drink, fuck, and eat. So I have picked up a book and I did pay attention in my classes.” You swirled the contents in your cup and swung a leg over the other.  

“Mmm. You should join me for a ride on Vhagar.” Your eyes widened in fear. 

“M-Maybe another time.” 

“Suit yourself, but I will still send you the proper attire.”

“The riding I know of requires no attire.” You cross your arms and pretend to be annoyed. Aemond let out an airy chuckle.

“In due time princess.” 

“Cute. Eat your food Prince Aemond.”

-

Breakfast was long finished. In the time after, Aemond asked you about Dorne. He wanted to know about it from a native's perspective. He also found joy in hearing you talk. 

“As you know it's always hot but here?” You laughed. “I actually had to cover up pretty decently last night but the sheets were quite scratchy, I thought there was a manticore crawling on me.” 

“You weren’t scared?” 

“I know how to extract their venom so they’re really nothing.” 

“Is it true you coat your weapons in venom?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“How do you do that?”

“To collect the venom we use vials and to hold the creature we would hold them with a large set of tweezers and a small set for the actual venom. For a manticore, the small tweezer would hold the stinger of the tail and you would just squeeze. Then we kill whatever it is and eat it.” 

Aemond grimaced at that. 

“What? They’re good, you should try one.” He chuckles at that.

“I am sure I will be alright without it.” You put your elbow on the table and pointed a finger at him.

“You’re going to try one.” He gave you a mischievous smile.

“I'm not easily persuaded.”

“We will see about that. Is there anything else you would like to know about, my prince?” You ask and the tips of your shows push against his boots. 

“No, I'm sure I have enough information to start a book of my own.” He says with amusement and you scoff.

“Hey! You could have asked me to stop at any time.” 

“A simple tease, I enjoy hearing your voice.” 

“Fancy me already?” 

“Is that a crime?” You shook your head and smiled. The edges of Aemond’s mouth curved up and he looked down. 

“How do you feel about the night sky?” You leaned forward. 

“I think it’s beautiful, when I ride Vhagar at night I try to get as close as possible to the stars.” There was a glint in his eye the second he mentioned Vhagar. 

“I have a book about it in my room, come with me?” You asked and stood up. You held a hand out to him and he pushed his chair back. He walked around the table and he grabbed your hand. 

-

The walk was short and no words were said between you too, but it was not awkward at all. Comforting even. 

You opened your chamber door and you let Aemonds hand go. He checked the hallways and when nobody passed he stepped through the door.  

You were already bending over to dig into a drawer. Aemond froze and his eye was trained on your ass. He was thankful he wasn’t like Aegon. 

“Here it is.” You hold up the brown book and show it to him. 

The Mysteries of the Sky by Maestor Elkin 

“He has traveled all over the world, he has even gone to The Wall and he reported on these bright lights in the sky.”  You say when you open the book to one of your saved pages.

“Fascinating.” Aemond stepped next to you, with hands behind his back, and skimmed over the page you were at.

“He doesn’t know exactly what causes them but he does believe it's the work of the gods. Can you believe if the gods do create what's in the sky, that they share their beautiful creations with us?” You wouldn’t see the smile on Aemond’s face as he solely looked at you.

“I do and they might be too generous at times.” 

“Hmm, I think they give us what we need.” You looked up at him by tilting your head back slightly with a smile. Aemonds heart started racing and his cheeks dusted pink.

“We should continue this back in the library.” Aemond starts walking towards your door when a white fluff walks in front of him. She passed along his boots and slid down onto her side. He crouched down and gave the cat some scratches making her purr.

“Or your room.” The cat hissed at you, still very mad about the events of earlier. Aemond looked over his shoulder and his eyes were met with the diamond that was pierced into your belly button. What he would do to just run his tongue along it.

Fuck that stupid (beautiful) dress

He stood up to his full height so he could tower over you.

“If someone catches us-.” 

“We are a very anticipated betrothal amongst many. I’m sure they will be more happy that we are getting along than mad that we were alone together.” Aemond couldn’t help but agree. 

“Follow me.” 

-

Aemond pushed the door open to his room and he stepped out of the way for you. You walked in and looked at all his furniture and all the paintings. 

“It's like everything I imagined. Dark but beautiful.”

“Hmm.” Aemond grabbed a book off his table and sat down in a chair and kicked his feet up on the small table. “Join me?” You gladly sat in the long chair next to his. 

“There is more Targaryen heraldry in your room than the rest of the keep.” The painting of a dragon setting ablaze to what seemed like Harrenhall caught your attention.

“That is what happens when the king grows ill and two devout members of the seven take over.” He cracked open his book. 

“How is the king? I have not seen him.” 

“Dying, slowly.” Aemond really should have said ‘too slowly’. 

“I can’t imagine wh-.”

“Not everyone has a relationship with their father as you do.” He cuts you off quickly. “A good one at least.” 

You decided not to push forward. 

“What are you reading?” 

“Political philosophy.” 

“Interesting.” You opened your book and kicked your flats off to lay down on the couch. A silence fell over, it was comfortable to an extent. There was a slight tension but you slowly forgot about it as you got deep into the book and your eyes slowly started to droop.

-

The book clattering on your chest made Aemond direct his attention to you. Book pages were folded on your chest. One hand on your chest and the other dangling. Your head was turned to the side and eyes shut. Aemond chuckled and stood up to a chest that held blankets. He grabbed the softest one and grabbed the book from your chest. It closed on the material of the dress and when he pulled it, the bottom of your breasts exposed themselves. 

“Fuck.” He turned away and his cock made a sudden throbbing sensation. Gods, he was acting like a boy again, the mere sight of a woman's body making him hard. He closed his eye and tried to think of anything else. 

He tossed the book on the table turned around and quickly splayed the blanket over your body. Aemond sat back in his chair and the material around his crotch down. Reading should make it go down.

-

You slept until the sun was almost gone. Aemond had finished a couple of chapters and did whatever else he needed to do. 

You sat up straight and rubbed your eyes. Aemond shifting caught your attention and you looked back. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and swung your legs so your feet touched the floor. 

“Don’t apologize, you’re still tired from your trip. I should be the one apologizing for taking you out so quickly.” 

You yawned and stretched, a breeze hitting your nipples suddenly made you very aware that they had slipped out and Aemond had not taken his eyes off them. 

“If you wanted to see them, all you had to do was ask.” You teased tiredly and Aemond looked down at his now closed book. “I should get back, me and my brothers are going to see a play in the cities.” 

“Then I will see you later, princess.” You stood up and did a curtsy. Aemond frowned at your action but relaxed when you giggled. He even let himself laugh. He did this cute thing where when he laughed his head would shake slightly.

“I hope we continue these meetings, I think something good can come of this.” You say walking toward the door and Aemond stands up to open the door for you.

“I agree, I hope you enjoy the play.” He opens the door and you reach up to kiss his cheek. His face turned pink with affection. 

“See you tomorrow Aemond.”

You did not

-

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated. I love hearing people’s thoughts🥰

[unconventional-lawnchair]

We'll heal together: Chapter Four

Drops of Jupiter Train

Remus Lupin x Reader (Ambiguous)

Masterlist

Summary: The return of Y/N and a reunion of a mentor and apprentice / More description on how her friends reacted to her 'Death'

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Reader in pain, cursing, more jealous and mean Sirius, descriptions of death and mourning, PTSD (please reach out if I missed something}

Wc- 3274

“It's really not that bad, we’re lucky she didn't give us detention!” James laughed as he shoveled spoonfuls of oatmeal into his mouth, making Remus give him a look between disgust and disappointment as he continued to talk through the food. 

“You should really get to know her before you judge her, Sirius.” Peter piped up, being bold, but the look Sirius sent him made him quickly look down at his hands. 

“Get to know her? She's wicked! Not the good kind! Not to mention, may I remind you, a Slytherin?” He spat the house name out like it was venom on his tongue. Remus rolled his eyes and scoffed, making Sirius give him a look. 

“And, may I add, a pureblood witch.” He sneered. “The {L/N}s are horrid! Knowing they do business with my parents is enough reason to steer clear of her. But then she runs around with my brother of all people! Crouch and Rosier? Whatever, but then you add in Snape. She's a dark witch for sure.”

“You're one to talk.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Sirius snapped.

“She's nothing like her parents.” Remus snapped back, eyes narrowing at Sirius and James gave a huff. 

“She's like my sister, watch it, Padfoot.” James muttered past a bite of his apple. 

“Right, I forget she has you three under some spell.” Sirius huffed and looked down to poke around at his plate. He curled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard, glancing up at Remus, who seemed to have settled down. Making the choice to push further, Sirius leaned his hands on the table.

“You know, just because you have a little crush on her doesn't make her a perfect person.” He hissed across the table at Remus. Remus, in turn, flushed up to his ears, but his expression hardened. Glaring at Sirius as James clicked his tongue to try and dissolve the sudden tension. 

“Well, you know who is a perfect person?” He suddenly called out, lighting up as he looked over at the front doors. Lily and {Y/N} had just stepped through, laughing and teasing each other. 

“Oh, my Lilypad!” He sang across the hall and Lily grimaced, You smirked at her before looking over at the four boys, waving as Evans avoided their eyes.

“We are not sitting by them.” 

“Oh, but we are.” You purred and began to walk over to the table.

“You little shite.” Lily hissed at you, making you laugh. 

“You have the temper of a muggle.” You teased and she jabbed you in the side, making you throw your head back in a cackle. She tried her best to suppress a smile. 

“And you? The boldness of a pureblood with no brains to match.” Lily smirked and you playfully shoved her. 

“My brains are perfectly intact, it's yours I worry about.” You smirked and she narrowed her eyes in curiosity. You lowered your voice and leaned over to her ear. “Considering all that seems to run through it is a certain Potter boy?” You teased before you turned back to the group as you made it to the table.

“Morning all.” You greeted and gave another laugh as you sat down and Lily purposefully hit you with her bag, sitting between you and Peter. 

“Oh good morning beautiful, you know, I've been wondering if you'd like to make a little wager with me.” James leaned across the table towards Lily, practically shoving a huffing Sirius to the side. 

“And what is this wager, James?” Lily asked with a sigh, eyes flicking down to her plate before she reached over for the pumpkin juice just as James quickly took it and poured for her. Making her bite her cheek and roll her eyes. 

“The Quidditch match, next week? I figured, if I win, you would humor me with a date to Hogsmeade.” He smirked and Lily closed her eyes with a low sigh, leaning her chin on her palms before she fluttered her eyes open in annoyance and met his own. His heart could have stopped for a moment, but he stayed ever confident. 

“What do I get if you lose, Potter?” She sighed with a tilt of her head. You could have sworn she was flirting if she didn't have such a bored look to her. 

“I'll buy you whatever you'd like from Honeydukes.” He persuaded, dented his cheek with his tongue and a charming smile. Lily gave him a look before she pressed her hand to her cheek. “So I'd spend the day with you either way?” 

“I-”

“Not interested, Potter.” 

You watched the interaction with a smile before Remus nudged you with his elbow. Looking up at him you smiled, letting Lily and James flirtatious bickering fade out.

 “Hey.” He whispered over to you and you lifted your eyebrow with a smirk.

“Hey yourself.” You whispered back. 

He had his arms crossed and began leaning down on the table so his head was a little lower than your own. You mimicked his body language, crossing your arms and lowering your head so you were mere inches from each other. “Why are we whispering?” You asked with a smirk and he chuckled low.

“I wanted to know what you two were chatting about, you were whispering so it seemed fitting.” He muttered so just you could hear, you giggled at this and rested your legs up on the bar below the benches. 

“We were talking about a boy.” You teased and he bit his cheek, before slowly smirking. Oh Merlin, save you. Those pretty eyes and dimpled cheeks would ruin you. 

“Any boy in particular?” He pried.

“Jealous?” You pushed in a playful tone.

“Maybe.” 

Your cheeks grew hot at this, but you couldn't help but smile. Using your eyes to gesture towards James and Lily. “Who do you think, Lupin?”

His smirk turned to a quick and bright smile, lifting himself back up with a new filled confidence. “Anyone else?” 

“Don't worry, next time I go ranting to Lily about you, you'll be the first to know.”

“Next time?” He cheeked, looking you over.

“Definitely next time.” You matched his look before that ever bitter voice piped up. 

“Get a room.” Sirius hissed and your expression fell, looking over at him. You looked him up and down and scoffed. “Managed to get rid of the glitter did you?” 

“Managed to hide the horns, hm? Your morning routine must be tireless.”

“Not as horrid as yours, can't imagine it's easy slicking the slime off your back, you toad.”

“Wicked witch.”

“Fucking bit-”

“Woah woah woah, I hate it when mom and dad fight.” James spoke up and you shot him a glare, making Sirius scoff. “Mom and dad? Try Uncle and rancid egg.”

“Rancid egg? That's the best you could do? That pretty head of yours must truly be just for show.”

“You think I'm pretty?” He smirked and you groaned. Your petty argument interrupted as some of the kids gasped in excitement, making you look up curiously as the owls rolled in with the postage.

You looked over at the Slytherin table as one of the owls crossed the great hall to you. Dropping two letters in your lap. One was from your parents, that Lily quickly stole from your grasp. She made it her personal duty to review your parents letters and summarize them for you, after finding you heartbroken over some choice words your mother had for you after she found out you had missed an ‘O’ on your report card for a tardy.

You smiled gratefully at her before you looked over the much more professional looking letter.

“What's that?” Sirius barked out before he could think and you clicked your tongue. “Wouldn't you like to know, Black?”

You opened the letter and felt both Remus and Lily lean in closer and sandwich you between them. You tried to manage reading it before you tutted and shooed them back, making both of them look at eachother with a laugh.

“Are you going to Azkaban? Finally?” James asked and you sighed, eyes still scanning the page as you waved your hand to tell him to continue with his crappy joke. “Because your smile is so great, it's criminal.” He leaned towards you. 

You slowly looked up from the paper and gave him a look, both of you holding a serious gaze before he cracked and laughed, making you smile and look back down. This time ignoring any distractions and muttering along with the words. “Blah blah blah… this and that.. we are happy to inform you that YOUR APPRENTICESHIP AT THE AUROR DEPARTMENT WITHIN THE MINISTRY HAS BEEN ACCEPTED!” You practically announced to the entire hall. Lifting up the paper in absolute starstruck delight and Lily gave a gasp and a bright smile.

“Merlin, {Y/N}! Congratulations!” She squealed and hugged your arm tight. You leaned into her side and your legs kicked out in excitement. 

“Ministry apprenticeship? As an Auror? You're sixteen.” James spoke up and even his ignorance couldn't deter your mood, just sending him your dazzling smile. “Yup! I am basically learning the ins and outs of the ministry office work, but if this goes well I'll be in the field by graduation!” You narrowed your eyes, still smiling bright. “I told you this last year when Slughorn helped me apply.” 

“When was this?” James scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

“At the party? When you beat Hufflepuff?”

“Which time?”

“Come off it, mate.” You snickered and your head snapped over to Peter who tapped your thigh to get your attention.

“You earned it, {Y/N}.” He praised in a low tone and your brilliant smile returned. “Thank you, Peter.”

Suddenly you gave a small yelp as Remus pinched your side. You look over at him in playful irritation. “What was that for?”

“Congratulations.” He whispered as if you two were the only ones at the table. You felt that smile growing ten fold. “You could of just said that.” You tried to muse playfully but your voice came out broken. 

“How else would I be guaranteed that smile of yours?”

“Flirt.”

“I am trying. Is it working?”

“Unfortunately, quite well.” You two bantered and didn't notice the look Lily and Peter shared.

“Soo.” Lily interrupted your game of eye contact with Remus.

“Hm?” You asked and looked over. “You said you are being trained? Who specifically is overlooking you?”

“Oh! Uhm.” You quickly scanned the page again before your jaw went slack. “What?” You whispered in shock before you quickly pulled Lily closer and shoved the paper in her face.

“Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

“Hm.. oh Merlin!”

“Alastor Moody!” You declared with a fist in the air and James gave you a look of surprise. Remus snapped his head to the paper and leaned in to read it, Peter clapped for you. Even Sirius seemed a bit impressed.

“He's like..”

“Your hero, we know.” Lily cheeked and you giggled. Looking over to the door as three more figures walked in, quickly, you excused yourself and ran like a bullet down the hall. “Mary! Alice! Marleen! Guess fucking what!” 

~~

The Weasley’s house was lively as ever, even with all the boys and Ginny at school. Molly was rushing around downstairs trying to keep herself busy, and her mind off the girl resting upstairs.

Dumbledore gave no warning, coming to her early morning with an unconscious girl, a girl she remembered instantly. {Y/N}, a girl she had known from her closeness with her elder brothers, having known her since she was 16, working as an apprentice under Mad-Eye, who worked closely with the Prewett twins.

The same girl who saved her eldest brother, Gideon Prewett, on her last ever mission for the order. The very same girl they buried days later. It took everything in Molly not to letter him and demand he come back from America to see what she discovered. The girl's death destroyed him, he lost his friend’s apprentice and his brother the same night, the older Prewett moved shortly after. Unable to face Moody or his family after his supposed failure.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts and she snapped her attention over to it. She remembered Dumbledore’s warnings of him bringing someone to set up better charms around the burrow temporarily. 

She tutted as another knock came louder, making her dry her hands faster. “Coming, coming!” She declared with a huff and stomped over, opening the door and her eyes went wide. “Alastor Moody!” She gasped and he nodded, walking inside and took off his shoes. 

“Mornin’ Mrs. Weasley. Dumbledore said you'd be needing some protection charms around the place. Something about a friend needing some extra protection?” He asked out in a professional but clearly bitter tone. He had better things to be doing. Better things to be hunting than playing protector. Albus would owe him greatly for this.

Molly stared at him in shock before she quickly snapped out of it as he let out an obnoxious. “Hmmm?” 

“Right! Right, well get right to it dear, don't let me be a bother. I'll put some tea on, it seems you need it.” She huffed and walked back into the kitchen and waved her wand to get everything ready.

~~

Your head was throbbing. It was dark, or maybe your eyes just refused to open? Your limbs were buzzing and limp, and your eyes burned in their sockets. You could feel yourself blink, but nothing changed with your vision. 

You began to breathe heavier, the realization hitting you like a truck. You had been living as a muggle for twelve years. Every memory, every moment, every dream and feeling you had was fabricated. Your mouth grew dry as you felt your heart speed up. ‘Never panic, you lose control of the situation.’ You heard Alastor scold you. Slowly, you collected yourself. ‘What is happening?’ He implored from your memory, the step by step questions he taught you.

No light.. I can't see what's happening. Everything hurts, Moody. ‘Can you see, hear, smell, or feel anything?’ Moody implored. No. Can't see. You tightened your eyes closed and heard the wind rushing through the grass below. The sound of ticking clocks and gnomes tearing apart the lawn. But you were in what felt to be a bed, the fresh grass smell prominent. You were by a window. A window out in the country, in the wizarding world, and by the sound of it, in the middle of nowhere it seemed. No where else had that smell, or the nightmare of a gnome infestation. 

‘Good job.’ You could hear his praise. This was something you developed early on into your first few missions with Alastor, his voice was the closest you could get to memorable. It was easy when he was so bossy, you could guess.

‘So, where are you?’ 

In a bedroom, by an open window, in the wizarding world, out in the country. I can't see, but I hear a clock ticking and- 

There was suddenly a loud whistle coming from downstairs.

A wizard using a kettle? Making tea, perhaps someone's home?

‘In a bed?’

It seems so.

‘Do you think it's safe?’

It feels safe.

‘Open your eyes.’ 

You hissed and slowly scrunched up your face, trying to ignore the pain that shot threw your body. 

It hurts Moody.

‘Open them.’

You shook your head and slowly forced them to open. This time, light entered. It was blurry, but you could make out a few details. The room was familiar, soft red and warm, cozy and peaceful in a way that felt nostalgic. Gryffindor colors, trinkets here and there. Finally, you forced your knees to bend up and hissed out in pure pain. “Fuck. Fuck.”

You looked around as you felt yourself fill with dread. You couldn't move. You had to wait. 

‘You'll be a sitting duck.’ Moody snarked in your head and you scoffed.

“You move then!” You shouted, louder than intended. You groaned and rolled onto your stomach. Forcing your wobbly arms under your chest and pushing threw the agony. Every muscle that you felt could possibly tear, began to pull and ache, every sharp pin and needle that felt like it ran deeper than just the flesh, and the throbbing of your skull. Alastor would taunt you, you had both been through worse together. ‘Twelve years out of practice affect you that much?’

I'll still beat you old man.

You finally managed to tumble out of bed, falling hard to the floor with a few sharp breaths. Shaking your head you jerked your trembling body to your feet and stood. Leaning forward and falling towards a desk you used for support. Then you saw it. Photos. Photos of a red haired family, one you knew instantly. “I'm at the Weasley's.” You breathed with a growing watery smile.

‘Then you're safe.’ Moody finally agreed in your head as you gave a soaked laugh. “Molly finally got her girl.”

~~

Molly had managed to convince Moody she just needed to pop out for a few errands. He, of course, was very displeased with this revelation. At first he complained about being left alone, but when she reminded him he was posted here indefinitely, he relented. 

So there he was, it was much later in the day when he heard shuffling upstairs. The steps heavy and echoing a bit and he grunted. Of course they were loud. He looked over to the stairs with a glare, and he let out a shaky breath. The figure was so familiar, he would know those reflective mischievous eyes anywhere, those bundled locks and blemished skin. 

He had been to the Ministry assigned combat therapist plenty of times, forced to sit and listen to them rattle on and on about getting proper help for his clear trauma regarding his very first apprentice. The first time it happened, something similar to this had taken place. He was sitting at his desk, writing away at some paperwork. It had been a year since he lost her, and the ministry was still picking up the pieces and apprehending death eaters that tried to push past Voldemort’s death. 

He was knee deep in paperwork, and he heard tapping. You were always tapping your quill to the table, or the inkwell, or even just drumming your fingers against the table. It irked him horribly, when you first began. But now, it brought him a strange comfort.

His head snapped to the side you usually sat on, seeing you as clear as day, just tapping your Quil to an inkwell. 

He was given five days leave after that melt down. The next time he saw you walking the same route as him to work, appariting to the front gate, he even saw you in the corners of the record room.

Never like this, however. You were older. Merlin, you were older and you looked just as stunned as he did. His visions never acknowledged him, so when you came running down the stairs his body moved before he could think. You stopped a few feet away from him and looked him over, and he stared at you, stunned. “Wow old man.. you look like shit.” You snarked and he hurried over to gather you in his arms. You sobbed into his shoulder and you both melded into a silent comfort.

It was safe, Moody. Just like you promised. 

So safe, in fact, for the first time in your entire life.

You felt Moody begin to cry.

[damascus-crowned-king]

Foolish love, but damn if it isn't true

Fool!Guy and Fool!Honey

It's really fucking bad yall

They were bored.

They were the only one awake at 6:30 AM, and they hated it. Years of waking up early out of fear that they would be late for some sort of event or that if they didn't wake up early enough, they wouldn't be as productive was biting them in the ass.

So they decided to bother their adorable, grumpy, currently asleep boyfriend.

"Guy."

"Baby."

"Darling."

"Sugar."

"Flour. Egg. Butter. Vanilla extract. Baking soda. "Salt. If you don't answer me, the pet names are just gonna get weirder, Guy."

"Nothing? Alright."

...

Radio silence.

"My oatmeal cream pie. My tomato soup."

"My honey-"

It only took a second for Guy to grab the back of their head and shove their face into a pillow and lay on top of them. Rendering them immobile.

"Oomph!"

"First of all. I call you honey, not the other way around. Second of all, It's too early and you should go back to bed. Third of all, why were almost all of those "pet names" food related?"

"I'm bored... and I can't go back to sleep, and also, I'm hungry, and who said that you trademarked the nickname 'honey'?!"

He replied dryly. "I did."

They squirmed for a minute before giving up under him. "Can you get off of me now?"

He questioned them slightly, still mildly crushing them under his weight. "Are you gonna chill out?"

"Maybe..."

"..."

"....Okay I'll calm down... lame-ass..."

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing, sweetheart~"

"That's what I thought." He got off top of them and laid on his side while Honey wrapped their arms around him so he could nuzzle his face in their chest.

They eventually started scratching his scalp, and they made a small smile at him leaning into their touch. "Your roots are kinda showing. Do you want me to touch 'em up for you?"

Guy scrunched his face in confusion and slight judgment at their behavior, still mumbling into their neck. "Honey. Did you just sniff my hair?"

Guy buried his face in the crook of their neck and wrapped his arms around them even tighter, mumbling a tired response. "Yeah... Tomorrow."

Honey slightly shivers at Guy's warm breath on their neck, smirking at his clinginess. "Okay." Letting out a soft confirmation before burying their face in his hair, taking a deep whiff of his natural scent mixed with his coconut and mango shampoo.

Honey smirked at Guy's convicting tone. "What? You smell good."

Guy scoffed at honey, finding their fascination for his smell odd. "You're such a weirdo..."

"What? You want me to say you smell bad? 'Cus I could."

"I mean, you could, but then you'd just look like a liar..."

"Do you want me to appreciate your smell or say you smell gross?"

"You could just... not smell me. That's an option." He says, throwing out the proposition, knowing full well it won't be taken into consideration.

Honey, fake-considers his suggestion, very obviously not actually thinking about not smelling him. "Mmmmm nah I'll pass."

Guy rolls his eyes and holds Honey tighter, wrapping his legs around them like a koala. Squeezing them tightly while they play with his hair.

This was the life to Guy. Silence and cuddles, Honey's fingers tangling into his hair and Guy secretly taking in their scent. (Hypocrite) Who wouldn't love this serene, still moment...

"Has anyone told you you're absolutely perfect?"

Guy was stunned to say the least. For Honey to say something so out of the blue and something so sappy had his heart skipping a beat.

"Um... no? What's up with you?" Guy was confused. Confused but not that surprised. His Honey was always one to speak their mind, but sometimes they said things that had him flustered. And he wasn't exactly the best at preparing for their unaware sweet words.

"Just sayin'. You're adorable, you're sweet, you smell amazing all the time, and you feed me. That seems like perfect boy behavior to me."

Whoooo boy. Yep. This is how he dies. Four years of being together, and he still turned into a bashful mess whenever Honey was all mushy with him... which was most of the time.

"God you are so..."

"Sooo...? What?"

Guy lets out a soft, resigned sigh and leans into them. "Charming."

Honey snorts at Guy somewhat dropping the tough-guy act and admitting he finds them charming, their ego rising at his simple word of affirmation.

"And that's all the sappy shit you're getting out of me today. No more."

"Ahhh I knew it... you're no fun..."

"Not my problem."

"But you know what is your problem?"

Guy groaned, clearly not excited for whatever was about to come out of his Honey's mouth. "What?"

Honey spoke up with a smirk in their voice. "Breakfast~"

"Ughhhh...."

"Soooo. What should we have for breakfast? We could have waffles, hashbrowns, Omelettes, grits? Ooh! We could have French toast and sausage?"

Guy rolled his eyes as they rambled about various breakfast foods, but deep down he knew he'd make a four course breakfast meal for his Honey. Because they deserved it. They deserved the world after dealing with his sass and sarcasm and monotone, lackluster personality, and his absence of... everything for years and even deciding to date him after putting up with all of it.

So he'll gladly make them breakfast.

And gladly give them the whole world if they asked.

Anything for his Honey.

[razorblade180]

Actor AU6

Ruby:You know what’s funny about filming a movie where you’re aged up? *steps aside*

Summer:*in DC costume* Sup.

Ruby:I wonder how many people are going to notice the difference.

Summer:They’ll know it’s me when the acting improves.

Ruby:Wow!

xxxxxxx

Blake:Excuse me ma’am. Where’s the bathroom?

Yang:Oh it’s just…*flexes bicep* That way to the left.

Blake:Haha, why thank you.

Yang:There’s also one to the…*flexes tricep* right over here.

Nora:Stop it before you pull something you dork.

xxxxxx

Interviewer: So, Yang Xiao Long, fans have noticed you got a few gains for this movie.

Yang:Yep! Never again haha!

Interviewer:What? Why not.

Weiss:She was such a baby off set.

Yang:Mad respect for personal trainers and gym enthusiasts. I like to feel a burn but I missed my arms not being sore. Adam would literally be nice enough to make me oatmeal and I’d just look at sadly because I don’t want to lift the spoon.

Interviewer:Was it as painful for the rest of you?

Blake:I actually think I like protein shakes now and that’s deeply upsetting.

Weiss:I’ve always lived the gym life. They wanted more squats so I gave them more squats.

xxxxxx

Ruby:*sitting sadly*

Superman:*sits beside her* It seems you have a lot on your mind?

Ruby:A lot has changed since we last met; big changes. Atlas fell, my sister and I got into a fight, now we’re here and…Jessica keeps asking about Jaune.

Superman:*tucks lips in* Mmhmm..

Ruby:Like…damn bitch, it was adventure. Let it go.

Crew laughing in the background

Ruby:I got dozens with this guy. Get in line!

xxxxxx

Ozpin:*swinging cane*

Ruby:*getting beaten*

Jessica:*off screen*…I’m actually the director on this episode.

Ruby:*having a panic attack*

Jessica:I wish I was joking. I needed the experience.

xxxxxx

Blake:Guys, I think I know where we are.

Beautiful wide panning shot

Blake:…I think we’re in Candy Land~

Weiss:Fuck ooooffff. *covers face* That was so random! Ahaha!

Yang:Honestly falling from your world into Candy Land sounds more terrifying than a place like Wonderland.

Bloop!

Blake:I think we’re in Wonderland.

Director Roman:Ever After…

Blake:*nods*…I said that so confidently to. Holy hell…

xxxxxx

Jaune:Today I met a little girl who was a RWBY fan. She asked me if there was any way to come back stage to pet Juniper. *bites muffin* I couldn’t tell her that Juniper was a prop.

Neo:So what did you say?

Jaune:I told her I actually don’t get to see him either. Now both of our days are ruined. This job is cruel.

xxxxxx

Pyrrha:Sup guys. It’s me, here to traumatize you again. *flips camera*

Penny:I’m here for the kill assist.

Pyrrha:You think we’ll be in final episode somehow?

Penny:Oh absolutely. I signed up for the role of “Ruby’s friend” and somehow landed “ghost of the narrative” by mistake.

Pyrrha:Saaame! Funny how that works out.

xxxxxx

Weiss:Where are Blake and Yang?

Jaune:Must’ve had bigger things to work out.

Meanwhile on storming bridge

Yang:Bl- what the!?

Adam:*draws sword* THIS ONE IS FOR ALL THE MARBLES!!

Blake:Sorry! The more I tried to not of the worst situation, the harder it got!

Yang:…*looks at camera* Can we keep this?

Roman:No.

Yang:But I want another cool fight!

xxxxxx

Oscar:*getting makeup done*

Penny:Ready to die on screen?

Oscar:Yeah. I took notes from the best.

Penny:So you’ve been looking at me?

Oscar:Whenever I can.

Penny:*giggles*

Coco:Hold still and stop flirting!

xxxxxx

Jabberwok:*crumbles into Neo*

Neo:*finger guns*…..*makes Adam*

Blake:Oh my gooood!

Yang:*grinning* THIS ONE IS FOR ALL THE MARBLES!

Adam:JUST WHAT I WANTED TO HEAR! FACE MEEEEE!

Ruby:At this point you should just put him at the tea party.

Nora:You don’t even canonically know him!

Ruby:But it would be hilarious!

Weiss:What kills me is an army of Adams would probably be more effective than the Jabberwoks.

xxxxx

Ruby:*in a bat suit* This is the secret life option the blacksmith didn’t want to reveal.

Weiss:Ruby calls on quits and chooses Gotham over Remnant.

Blake:Willingly going to Gotham City is crazy. Life is not that bad.

Ruby:I don’t wanna take this off.

[ghuoab]

chef!simon and mafia daughter!reader

summary: the mafia’s daughter had been locked away all her life for protection. but was it to keep her safe from rival families, or from men?

note: its so early in the morning and I want to die but ill write out my thoughts

her father was head of one of the biggest mafia families in the U.S. his schedule would always be all over the place. some times he would be home for a week, and outside for a few weeks. she never knew when he would exactly come home. not that it mattered to him.

his daughter understood his job. she knew she had a lot on his plate, and she always glorified him even as a little girl for being so courageous and strong. when she got older, however, she began to call him out on his wrongdoings. turning into a perfect, obedient daughter, to a stubborn and rebellious daughter. the time taken from their relationship as father and daughter slowly tore them apart all of these years.

his daughter rarely went out. it was almost as a form of neglect, almost abuse on his part— you know, not letting his daughter out. she had college for a few hours, but she was always escorted right home. studies took up her time; dreams and hopes of her future slowly began to flicker every time she saw her father enter and leave the house without any word. not talking to people also got to her.

she was always watched, being the mafia’s daughter. college made her normal, and she yearned for it. but every time class ended, and the professor wrapped up, the dread of her simple yet exhausting life weighed on her shoulders.

today was just another day of the same old stuff. she had woken up extra early today to study for midterms, nervous about the day ahead. unfortunately, she got lost in her head, and she couldn’t focus, and—

she was sure she flunked. again. she was sure the professor was sick of her.

arriving home, she came in a fit of frustration and disappointment in herself. all of that studying, and discipline, years of hard work, and days worth of notes was all wasted.

she came home with a bad attitude, and the family’s mansion was empty. again. her mother— god knows where she went. again. her father as well. they were so selfishly cooped up in their lives, they forget they have a daughter waiting ag home for them. hoping they are safe. and okay.

after the exam, she decided to take the day for herself. she needed the day to relax, and to get her head back into that headspace for when she had to write another essay to her professor to, hopefully, take the exam again.

the first step she failed to take was breakfast.

she reluctantly came out of her room, her sour expression slowly faded, and she accepted her own fate for her grades. she looked at her private chef, asking him, simon, to make her some eggs and oatmeal. he gave her a nod, and clared his throat, turning around to prepare her food

they hadn’t ever talked before. she hadn’t thought about it. she had just known his name, and he was there ever since she turned eighteen. he’s made her plenty birthday cakes since then, although they were always the same. she never was picky with his food in particular.

he was tall. she watched as he made his way around the kitchen, preparing her food, watching as his hat nearly hit the light for the third time since he’s walked in. he was silent, too. maybe it was because he was shy, or because he was focused. she didn’t know. but he was also presice, and swift with the way he cooked. it was almost like watching a pianist play the piano, or watching a artist paint. he was skilled at his job, due to experience.

that was the first day she really noticed him in that light. there were many people helping around in her home, but simon was always the one who stuck out to her the most.

then she slowly began to watch him more. at first, it was mere curiosity. she was always locked away in her home, like a princess; ironic, but it was true. she hadn’t seen a boy she’d like at all, and none of them were exactly her type. she never understood it, either. every other girl had no problem getting anyone they wanted, when they wanted it. maybe practice made perfect with those types of people.

she slowly began to open up more to him, too. light talks in the early mornings, catching him leaving after dinner was served and prepared, talking to him out on the porch in hopes to get him to stay. then it was light intimacy. light feathered touches, lingering eye contact in front of people. in private, it was something different.

the more they opened up, the more they connected. she learned more about him every day, and who he was as a person. why he is the way he is. why he has that damn mask every day inside.

she found comfort in him. christ’s sake— she had just started getting to know him. maybe some attraction. that was fair, though. he was big, and muscular, and fit… and a well toned body. that was just getting started.

she slowly began to sneak out with him more. it turned into talks on the porch late at night, to talks at his car. then talks in his car. the hours rolled by as the two talked their hearts out, and he always listened when she laid her worries out for him to hear.

the talks in his car slowly turned to small kisses on the backs of each others hands. then intimate kisses.

in just a few months, the other workers around the house had speculated they had something going on. their rumors and whispers were correct, but who could blame them? it was amusing to hear, and watch, and they got paid for it.

of course they started to have sex. it was almost obvious, and the maids always noticed how simon left with a wrinkled shirt, or he seemed rushed out of the home late at night.

maybe all she needed was a man. a older man: not any young, illiterate college boys, but a real man. one who listens to you, and learns. a man that cares enough to think about you when hes alone.

christmas rolled around fast. her father never came. her mother did, but only on christmas to complain and to scold her.

then new years rolled around. for the first time in years, she decided to sneak out with simon. to his own home. to their own privacy.

the two fucked. till the sun went down, and when it came back up. they barely got any hours of sleep in before simon had to go to work, and she had to go to class.

stepping into class with crusty cookie monster pajamas and a hoodie was not ideal at all. she looked like a mess, and no one even looked. or batted an eye. when the exam papers slowly got passed around; she sat in her usual spot. she wasn’t happy to see herself fail, but she had already accepted it. imagine her surprise when she, not only passed, but got 94% on her packet of exam papers, scribbled chicken scratch from nervous hands.

[zzenxell]

for the record (MDNI)

cowboy!mingi x saloon owner!fem reader

pairing: cowboy!mingi x bar owner! reader

genre: smut 18+

rating: mature

word count: 6.2k

summary: a lone bar owner on a dead day in a small town is taken for the ride of her life once a regularly visiting bounty hunter enters through the swinging doors

warnings: explicit language (like... real explicit) || smut (very intense, i fear. please don't read in public or if under the age of 18) || sub/dom themes || fingering (f recieivng) || oral stimulation (f/m receiving) || big dick!mingi (as we all know) || unprotected (wrap it up irl) || creampie (oatmeal) || nicknames (sweetheart, darling, love, angel, doll, pretty, pretty girl, sweet pea, cumslut, slut) || multiple orgasms ||

zzen's notes: save a horse, ride a cowboy everyday of my life is said cowboy is mingi🤭 also, first one shot type thing written on here so pretty please show love and give requests so i can write more

ALSO sorry this shit took so long lol went to hell and back just to get my writers block dealt with. i also have this on AO3 which is where ill be posting all my works as well. link in bio :P

(partially proofread. im lazy)

On a cold and gloomy day, you work around the saloon you own in a quaint little town. A dead one. Barely any travelers were out and hardly any of the regulars stopped by. Tumbleweeds passed by the saloon doors with a foot-high opening at the bottom, swinging in the wind with a creak. You sigh, focusing on the small stack of used and dirty cups needing a good clean. It was rare to have such an uninteresting day around these parts. Normally, there would be at least one person in here. Or a group of cowboys causing a ruckus in the far corner booth. It was eerily quiet, both inside and outside the small wooden building. 

In the middle of toweling dry a glass, the doors fly open. You figure it was just the wind again until you hear boots scuffling the planks of the floor. You turn, looking towards the sound, and see one of your regulars. Song Mingi. A well-known bounty hunter who has a habit of coming in once a week to get a whiskey sour. Several, at that. Normally covered in blood and dirt, he looks clean this time. Setting the glass down, you lean against the counter behind you and cross your arms with a smirk. 

“Fancy seeing you ‘round. Quite the weather to be out and about,” You say with a drawl, looking over the man briefly before meeting his gaze again. He smirks at you and places his cowboy hat on the counter before perching himself on the stool in front of you. He’s always been infatuated with you. Your attitude, your aura, your energy. Everything about you is so… alluring. It captivates him every time. Him meaning his throbbing dick between his thighs that happens to harden the moment he walks into your bar. 

“I needed a drink and wanted to see my favorite bar owner. That a crime, sweetheart?” He tilts his head, that disgustingly sexy smirk still sitting on his face as his eyes run over you as well. You knew damn well and good that he wants you. Always has since his first appearance in your bar. He made it known. The first encounter being him with his group of wildlings. All of them drunk off their asses in the corner booth and trying to get you to buy them a round. You folded, obviously, and brought over two pitchers of beer just to shut them up. That was the first time you noticed him. His cowboy hat sitting slanted on his head and only being able to see the lower part of his face. Though that night, he lifted his head to meet your gaze. That same stupid smirk sitting on his face as he nodded in appreciation. That was also the first time you went home and rubbed one out to the thought of him. Which, now that you think about it, seems to be the normal ritual for when you get home. 

“Well, I appreciate the compliment, cowboy,” You scoff out a soft laugh and pick up a clean glass, making his usual concoction before sliding the glass across the counter to him. His fingers barely brush against yours and both of you have to hold back to grab each other's hands. You won’t lie and say you have a fantasy of getting thrown over this very bartop and having him fuck you roughly from behind. To have his large, rough, and calloused hands wrapped around your waist. Oh, to hear his moans in the deep raspiness of his voice. Fuck, you were getting turned on just thinking about it. But you also can’t let him know that. It’ll boost his ego too much and make him think he has a chance. (He does). 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing you like a hawk while doing so. His mind is running with all the thoughts of what he wants to do to you. To pin you against the wall of liquor that looms behind you. To fuck that tight little cunt of yours that he knows is tight and pink. Like it was made for him and only him. To bend you over this counter and fuck you till you're crying out in pleasure. His cock bruising your insides in the best way possible. Shooting everything in him to coat the velvety walls of your pussy. God, what he would do to taste you. 

Shaking his head from his thoughts, he turns his gaze around the empty saloon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Seems like you’re pretty busy here, eh?” His head turns back to you and his glass presses to his lips once more, taking another sip of his drink before letting the glass settle on the counter. Leaning back against the seat, he eyes you once again. His cock twitching in his jeans as his gaze falls to your plump and, oh-so-beautiful breasts. Even behind that button-up and vest, he knows they’re plump. Round and full. Perfect for his huge hands to grasp and fondle. To tease those perky nipples into a stimulation you haven’t felt before. He swallows thickly and meets your gaze. 

Smirking knowingly, you push off the counter and walk to the opposite end to discard the towel into a dirty waste bin. Unlike many other women in town, you refuse to wear blouses, skirts, and underskirts. Fuck that. You dress yourself in jeans, chaps, and a white button-up that's tucked under your belt. Your leather vest frayed around the chest, the fringe swaying with each of your subtle movements. 

“Quite the day indeed, I’ll tell you that. You’re the first and only customer all day,” Standing back up straight, you face him and saunter back to stand in front of him. No other person to pay attention to. Might as well.. play a little. Leaning against the bartop in front of him, you grab his glass and take a sip all while keeping his gaze. He visibly swallows and eyes your lips wrapped around the glass. The glass clinks to the counter and you grab his hat next, placing it atop your head with a smirk. 

His gaze never leaves you and something in him switches once he sees his hat on your head. You must not know the untold fact about wearing a man's cowboy hat. Mingi’s grin grows and he leans his forearms on the counter. “You know, You look mighty sexy with my hat on that pretty head of yours,” His voice drops a few tones as he licks his lips. The head he’s imagined pushing down over his cock with your pretty pink lips wrapped around him. Your eyes welling with tears because he’s too big for you. Fucking your throat raw until he cums and watches his seed spill from the corners of your lips. Fuck, to be in your mouth right now. His pants tighten again and he bites his lip to hold back a groan. “You don’t know what that means, do you, hun?” 

Your eyes narrow, questioning him silently before setting his hat back down beside his glass. Leaning your forearms between his in the counter, you lean forward a little. “What does it mean, cowboy?” Your tone teasing, sultry even, as you speak. Tongue darting out to wet your lips almost in anticipation. His smirk only grows and he leans forward as well. 

“When a pretty girl like yourself wears a man’s hat, it means you’re his… and his only,” He’s whispering now. Somehow sounding even sexier like this. Your mind flurries with phrases you want him to whisper in your ear while he’s deep inside you and you swallow dryly as you eye his lips. 

“That so?” You question back, cocking your head to the side slightly before meeting his gaze again. It darkens immediately and his hands clench into fists against the wood of the bar top. The nod is subtle, but you see it. That makes your smirk grow as well. Just as he starts to lean forward again, you pull away and place your hands firmly on the counter. “Maybe I should wear it more often then… whaddyu think?” His heart stutters and his eyes widen a little. Fuck you’re bold. And he loves it. Loves the thought of you being his to come home to and fuck the brains out of. To relieve the stress of having to kill people for money to scrape by. And to have you by his side would be a dream of his. One he would gladly make into a reality if you gave him even the smallest chance. A scoff of a laugh leaves him and he picks his glass back up and down the rest of his drink. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. You know I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You laugh softly and take his empty glass from the counter to clean, rinsing it under water before towel drying it and setting it with the others behind you. In the silence, you’re thinking about the many ways you could tempt him right now. Simply unbutton the top of your shirt, taking your vest off. Even just adjusting yourself. Anything you do would get him going. 

So you do it. Shedding your vest slowly from your shoulders and tossing it to the side before undoing the top two buttons of your shirt. Cleavage is now out in the open for him to see. His eyes dropping instantly with a deep and sharp sigh. He licks his lips, almost hungrily, as he takes in your newfound boldness. “What are you playing at, Y/N?” His voice is deeper than before and raspier than you’ve ever heard it. It sends shivers down your spine and straight to your pussy that's already clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet you are despite not even being touched. That is the power his voice holds over you. And it should be illegal. 

“I’m not playing at anything, cowboy. Just got a little hot. That a crime?” I throw his earlier said words at him and bend over in front of him to “fetch a rag” from the floor. His breath hitches and he lets out a soft groan. Mingi’s hand now covers his mouth while the other disappears underneath the counter. Shit, is he touching himself? Just at the sight of my titties? “Bullshit,” his voice strained and his eyes fall shut in an attempt to rid his mind of these thoughts. You’re teasing him. He won’t get anything from you. He knows he won’t. But, fuck, if he can’t help thinking about sliding his cock between those fucking tits of yours and coating them with his cum. The very thought sends another wave of arousal through him and his hand palms his dick through his pants, which elicits another groan from him. “What. Are you. Playing at?” He asks again, stern this time. You can’t help but smirk at him, even if he can’t see you right now with his eyes clenched shut. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hun,” again, teasing him. He should just shut you up now and shove his cock down your throat until you can’t see anything but the tears in your eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he leans further back into the stool and stares up at the ceiling, letting out heavy huffs of air as his other hand continues to slowly move along his hard cock. 

“You… are a cock tease,” he says after a few moments of silence and finally turns his gaze back to you. He can’t take this shit anymore and stands from the stool. Marching over to the entrance that leads behind the bar, he throws it open and stalks over to you, placing both hands on the counter that you lean against. Now that you’re caged in, you realize… you want him to fuck you senseless. You want to suck him down and swallow everything he gives you. Your hands fall to his chest, pressing firmly against it as if to push him away. Your attempts fail because he’s a giant compared to you. His frame blocks everything out of view and all you can do is stare up at his hardened gaze. “You like being a tease? Huh? You want me to show you what happens when you tease too much, sweetheart?” 

His words send a thrill through your body. Fuck yeah, you want him to show you. You want him to demolish you right now against this counter and fuck you so hard that the liquor bottles fall and shatter around you as you cream over his cock you know is big, just like the rest of him. A sly smile forms on your face and your hands decide they want to move over the expanse of his chest. Even when it's covered in his button-up and vest, you feel the muscles tense under your touch. Another groan leaves him and his face drops closer to yours. 

“Don’t fuck with me right now, doll…” he mutters out and drops his face even lower, ghosting against the skin of your neck. His hot breath fanning out with each heavy huff. Hands now moving from the counter behind you to grip at your waist. Fuck… they were so big. He was big. He could so easily manhandle you right now and you wouldn’t have a care in the world. 

“You don’t want me to fuck you, Mingi?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and your head tilts a little as you feel his lips press to the side of your neck. Brushing right below your ear and down to where your shoulder and neck connect. Another groan, this one deeper and more elongated. His grip tightens on your waist and, suddenly, his teeth are in your neck. A sharp moan leaves you and your eyes flutter shut. That’s gonna leave a mark. But who cares? Neither of you right now. 

“You want me to fuck you, y/n? You want my cock inside you? Is that what it is?” He mumbles against your neck, still attacking it with his lips and tongue, leaving several marks of his behind. Each one elicits a soft whimper to pass through your lips. Your hands clench against the fabric of his shirt and you turn your head, forcing him to leave your neck. Though his eyes never leave the sight of the dark marks he left behind.

“Maybe I do…” you whisper to him and move one of your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a well-needed kiss. Messy and sloppy and dirty and wet. One that both of you had dreamt of many times in the solitude of your homes. He groans into the kiss, moving one hand from your waist to tangle in your hair and tilt your head back so he can shove his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips and let him take over. His tongue slides and dominates yours as it feels around your mouth. Fuck, this was hot. You honestly could cum from this. His soft and plump lips pressed to yours, despite the taste of whiskey that coated his mouth. Your hand slides into his hair to grip tightly as you pull him closer to you. His other hand moves from your waist and slides down, toying with your belt before ripping it out of the belt loops. It clings to the ground and his next action is unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans. 

He pulls away from your lips, just for a breather. His eyes cast down to stare at your now swollen lips. Smirking, he moves the hand from your hair to brush a thumb over your bottom lip. A soft whimper escapes you as you watch him. His face is full of desire and pent-up arousal. He presses against you harder and you feel his straining cock press into your stomach. Now you’re glancing down to see the very large bulge in his jeans. He chuckles lowly and lifts your face back up with a tight grip under your chin. His other hand successfully gets your pants undone, shoving them down quickly. Your legs instinctively spread for him with a gasp. Feeling his touch against your clothed clit almost made you lose it and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, hips jolting at his touch. 

“That how wet I make you, doll? You’re fucking drenched… what a slut you are,” He whispers against your ear. You knew how wet you were, but the vulgarity of his words makes you even more so. Pussy clenching around nothing, pulsing from the inside with a hunger for him and him only. His fingers tease the cloth of your panties slowly, drawing out any sound he can from you in the process as his lips reconnect with your neck. “You are a slut, aren’t you? A cock-loving cum slut… ready to fuck any man who walks into your saloon, huh?” 

You shiver at his words and let out a needy moan. Again, the vulgarity coming from this man makes you want to jump him. In response, you nod eagerly. Wanting nothing more than to fuck him in this very moment like the cumslut he says you are. “Fuck, Mingi… please just-... just fuck me already.” The words are a plea. A beg for him to do more than just touch you through your soaked panties. He smirks against your neck and pulls away to look down at you. 

“Right here in the front of the saloon where anyone could walk in and see you on full display? I don’t think so, doll.” With that, he pulls his hand from your pants and grabs your waist to hoist you up, pressing you against him as he quickly makes his way to your office door. Your legs wrap around him and your arms snake around his broad shoulders to hold yourself in place. He knows where your office is solely because he’s seen you walk back there many times. Just so he can see that pretty little ass of yours in these tight jeans you always wear. His hands knead the flesh of your ass through your jeans, walking with a purpose so he can get you bent over the desk like the whore you are. 

You, on the other hand, are now clinging to his shoulders for the life of you. Head buried into his neck with lips pressed to his neck in a fervor to try and get some of your desires out. Nothing works. You need his cock. For him to be inside you and fucking you senseless until you don’t even remember your damn name. The whimpers leaving you are breathless and desperate. He kicks the door open, setting you down on the desk before shutting the door behind him and shedding his vest from his shoulders. His belt buckle unlatches as he pulls his belt from his pants and shoves his pants down without even undoing them. His boxers sliding down as well, revealing his hard and thick cock to your eyes. It’s huge. Girthy and veiny, red tip leaking with precum and can easily tear you in two. He stares down at you, legs spread against the desk with your arms behind your back to support your weight. He lets out a groan and strokes himself a few times before walking over to where you sit.

“Knees, angel. Get on ‘em,” With his hand still on his cock, he motions with his other for you to do as he says. And, like the compliant little slut you are, you listen, Dropping to your knees in front of him with his big fucking cock in front of your face. You lick your lips, moving your hands to his thighs slowly, but he pushes them away with a tsk. “Uh uh. Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours before you do anything. I want you crying around my cock before I fuck you. Hands behind your back.” Your eyes widen at his words, but you nod and settle your hands behind your back, looking up at him. Your chest heaves with the deep breaths you take. In this position, your panties are pulled taut enough that they just so happen to ride right against your clit and you could easily get off like this. Sucking him dry and cumming from giving him pleasure. Fuck, just the thought of swallowing him down makes you almost cum. His eyes narrow down at you and he steps closer, pressing his tip against your cheek before slapping himself against you with a groan. 

“Fuck, doll… you look good down there,” He all but whispers out and moves his free hand to grip your hair away from your face. His other hand guides his tip across your lips and you open willingly for him. That action makes him stifle back a guttural moan, but he doesn’t plunge himself in yet. He wants to hear you beg for his cock. “You want it? Let me hear you, baby. Tell me how much you want me to fuck your mouth… 'cause I know you want me to.” 

You whimper, clenching your eyes shut briefly to get your mind unfogged so you can speak to him. “Mingi… please fuck my mouth. Use me. By all means, use my mouth for your pleasure. Please, baby. I need your cum down my throat. I need to taste you,” the words fall out so easily despite your brain being mush. He seems satisfied with your answer though, smiling down at you like a predator about to devour its prey. 

“Open nice and wide for me, doll,” And you listen, almost dislocating your jaw with the speed in which you drop it down for him. He lets out a hum of appreciation and circles his tip around your lips once more before pressing his tip in. Cursing under his breath, he slowly inches forward as his grip on your hair tightens. It took everything in him to go slow and not surge himself to the back of your throat. “There we go… such a good girl.” He mutters out with his eyes shut in pleasure. Your tongue begins to swirl over every part it can reach despite him stretching your mouth to new heights. He pulls back out after getting half of his length in, then slowly presses himself back into the hilt. That elicits a loud moan from him and a gag from you, but you take him willingly. Your eyes blinking up at him with tears starting to form at the corners.

After a few seconds of him with his cock down your throat, he opens his eyes and looks down at you with a hint of a smile on his face. “Good fucking girl. Taking me so well in the little mouth of yours,” he mumbles in desire and begins to rock his hips into you. Both of his hands tangle in your hair tightly to hold your head in place. Strings of saliva start to drip down your chin. Surely, some of his precum was a part of it, not that you minded at all. His cock hits the back of your throat in slow and steady thrusts that make him groan lowly. The sight of him disappearing and reappearing from your mouth almost makes him lose his shit, but he holds back. He's not cumming until he's fucking that cunt of yours and filling you to the brim. 

His pace quickens suddenly and you're fighting back the urges to gag once more. Wet gurgles leaving you. They sound disgusting but he fucking loves them. He can't take it anymore, his pace quickening once again and his grip on your hair tightens. “Fuck, doll… doing such a good job,” his eyes fall shut again and his head tilts back to moan towards the ceiling. At that point, you start grinding yourself down into the seam of your panties, moaning around him softly as the tears start to fall down your cheeks. You can already feel your arousal dripping onto the wood floor below you. You're too focused on his massive dick in your mouth pounding your throat relentlessly. 

Mingi thrusts into your mouth one last time and holds himself there, silent and still as he brings his head back down. Feigning mock sympathy, he moves one of his hands from your hair to wipe the shed tears from your face. “Aww… you're crying? Am I too big for you, sweetheart? You poor thing.” He pulls himself out and lets go of your hair. Taking in breaths as you stare up at him, you lick your lips to get the precum he has spread earlier around the rim of your mouth. “Get up.” He demands while stroking himself in front of your face, almost tantalizing. You listen, standing from the floor and facing him to wait for his next instruction. God, you feel helpless, but dammit all to hell if it doesn't feel good.

He doesn't waste much time shoving your panties down to the floor to pool around your ankles. Strings of your arousal detach from your underwear and stick to your inner thighs. He licks his lips at the side, ready to taste every last inch of you until you're screaming for him to stop. “Sit on the desk, doll. Legs spread for me,” he gently nudges you backward with his hands on your hips, sitting you down on the edge of the desk before you could even think about moving. Your legs spread at his demand and you watch him sink to his knees between your thighs. He sighs deeply, a sound coming from the back of his throat. Almost like a growl. It makes your insides turn with desire and your knees fall over even more for him with a soft whimper. “Please, baby…” you whisper as if your pleas will do anything to quicken the process. 

“Patience, sweetheart. You know how long I've wanted this. I'm taking my time with you,” he says with a tsk and smooths his hands over your legs. Starting at your calves, then the tops of your thighs, and finally massaging the insides of them, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt. “So wet… and such a pretty sight,” the fingers of one hand gather some of your arousal and he licks them clean, humming in delight before pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. Your head tilts back abruptly and a sharp moan leaves you. Fuck, his hands are so big. You know you've said that before, but they truly are nothing compared to your hands. His eyes never leave the sight of your folds, pink and beautiful. Soaking from your juices and teasing him by clenching around nothing. 

His thumb circles over your nub, watching as more of you seeps out of that tight little hole he's gonna destroy. Your moans gradually get louder with each passing second. More needy, whiny. More for him to just fuck you already. You bring your head back down and look at him. Shit he looks pussy drunk and he hasn't even done much of anything yet. But as soon as you think that, he dives in, licking a long stripe up from your entrance to the clit he's been teasing with his thumb. Again, he hums in delight and his eyes fall shut. Your head gets tossed back once more and your arms threaten to give out from holding your weight behind you.

“So sweet, love… Fuck you taste good, mm,” he mumbles against you and the hum he does sends a shiver throughout your entire body. Whimpering with every flick of his tongue. His hands wrap the underneath of your thighs and hoist them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him in the process. He's hungry, and he's about to have himself a nice feast. Mingi doesn't hold back. His tongue delves into your entrance and licks wherever he can. His hands are gripping your thighs so hard it'll leave bruises till next week. Every so often, his nose brushes against your clit and you let out a cry of pleasure, fighting to bring your hands down to tangle in his hair. 

“You wanna cum in my mouth, doll? Wanna drown me with your cum? Huh?” he mumbles again and brings his hand back down to play with your clit as his attack on your hole continues relentlessly. You nod, but you know he can't see you. It takes everything in you to clear your mind long enough to moan out a response. “Yes… fuck- yes, baby… please let me cum in your mouth,” the words send his cock twitching against his stomach and he presses his face further, smirking against you devilishly.

Then he pulls away, stands abruptly, and rips your shirt open. Your whine of protest from the lack of an orgasm soon turns to a gasp of surprise once your chest is exposed to him. Buttons fly everywhere and tumble to the floor as his lips make contact with your chest. His hands pull your shirt down your shoulders and then reach behind you to unclasp your bra, which he does in one swift move that has your pussy fluttering. Yanking the straps down, he palms your right breast and bites along the top of your other one. “Gorgeous, love… fucking beautiful,” They're all he's ever imagined. Round, full, perky. Everything he's dreamed of. He wants to slide his cock between the valley of them, but that'll be for another day. He's too impatient for that right now. He steps closer, his cock sliding against your thigh before settling on your stomach as his lips move up to the side of your neck. Sucking and pulling at the skin desperately as if he wants to eat you alive. Which you're sure he can if he truly wants to. You wouldn't be opposed, that's for damn sure.

His hips move slowly, grinding his hardness against your thigh and spreading your legs with his own. Groans leaving him with each passing second, mixing with your whimpers of pleasure as your eyes fall shut. His large, calloused hands travel everywhere they possibly can. You claw at him, his shoulders and back and neck. Desperate for him to give up on teasing and taking his time instead of ravishing you within an inch of your life. “Mingi.. P-please,”

It's like the restraint in him finally breaks and he's capturing your lips with his again. A hand snaking down to toy with you for a moment, gathering your juices before hes stroking his cock with it. Then his tip is prodding at your entrance. “You sure you can handle this, sweet pea?” He breaks the kiss to mutter those words, dark and gruff as his lips trail over your cheek. The hand not holding himself at your entrance travels up the side of your body to gently wrap around your throat. Not too much pressure, but enough to make your walls flutter. 

“Y-yes.. Please, Mingi. I- i can handle it,” you respond, shaky and quiet but confident in your ability to take him nonetheless. He doesn’t waste much time after that and slowly sinks himself into the hilt with a deep groan. It almost sounds like a growl. Of course, it’s paired with a satisfied moan from yourself once you’re finally able to feel him like this. His lips attach to your neck again in a sorry attempt to muffle the soft grunts and gasps he’s letting out from how tight you are. You’re too busy clinging to his shoulders trying to get used to his size. “Tight as hell, sweetheart.. You alright?” He breathes the words out between his teeth, willing himself to stay still so he doesnt hurt you too much. You’re able to nod, subtly, but it's there. He takes that as permission to move, pulling back until just his tip remains inside, then pushes back in with a groan. It harmonizes with the breathy moan you let out. 

That’s how he starts. Slow, steady. Full, deep strokes that make you feel every vein carved into his dick. All while his huffs of air and grunts resonate right next to your ear. Every once in a while punctuated by a kiss or nip on your shoulder. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper at the same time. “M-Mingi… so good…” You whimper the words, digging your nails into his shoulders before moving to his back. A hand delving into his hair yet again to both tangle in the strands and grip at his scalp. He responds with a sharp thrust, pulling his head back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Yeah? Feels good, doll?” His pace quickens just enough to make the desk start hitting the wall. A cocky grin taking his face as he watches how fucked out you become. “So pretty… Gonna fuck you dumb, okay? Just sit here and be a good girl for me.” 

He pulls out, hoisting your legs over his forearms so they sit in the crook of your knee. His cock plunging itself back in as he straightens himself up to get a better range of movement. At this point, you're barely on the desk. Ass hanging off and basically hovering as he plunders into you. He’s out of reach now so you struggle to grab onto something, anything. The papers on my desk, a stapler. Eventually, I opt for the wall behind me and arch my back from the wood. “R-right there..please right- ahh my god,” He’s hitting your g-spot so perfectly you start seeing stars. He grunts, tightening his grip on your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. “Gonna come for me? Huh? Gonna cream all over this dick, pretty girl?” 

If the words weren’t enough already, the name was a cherry on top. You nod, frantically, as a hand comes down to press against his pelvis. Not to push him away, but to touch him somewhere at least. The tears that rolled down your cheeks while his dick was in your mouth now rolls down as his dick rearranges your pretty little cunt. You were so close, so very close. “M-min..close,” The words come out so quietly, he almost misses them. But when they register, he doubles down his efforts. One of his hands coming between your thighs to play with your highly oversensitive clit to help send you over the edge. The desk hitting the wall in a steady and quick rhythm as he works you up. “C’mon, pretty… Soak my cock. Wanna see it glistening before I fill this pussy up, uh? Wanna watch? C’mere,” His other hand moves to grip the back of your neck, pulling you up just enough to watch where his cock disappears and reappears from inside you. His words, his fingers, his pace. Him. Fuck, you’re surprised you lasted this long. Another pitiful sob leaves you as you watch your arousal splash against his thighs. “You see that? See how good you take me, baby? Can’t believe you made me wait this long for such a perfect fucking pussy, mm.”

And that was it. It was like everything inside you just ruptures and you come with a guttural moan of his name. Your back arching into him and nails digging into where they stay on his stomach and the wall. Surprisingly enough, you manage to rip through the wallpaper in the office. A worry for another day though. You’re too busy seeing the gates of heaven while your orgasm washes over you, eyes clenched shut while your body stays rigid in bliss. His fingers on your clit not relenting until he sees the trembles in your thighs die down. His hips slowly coaxing you out of your high before he starts to work himself. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you meet his gaze and see the smirk sitting on his face. “Just as I thought… pretty,” He mutters before he gives a few sloppy thrusts, and empties himself inside with a satisfied groan, almost mistaken for a whimper if you listened close enough. He stills, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as his arms bring your legs down. His arms instead wrap around your waist to pull you closer. Your breaths resonating in the small room as you both come down from the high of everything. 

Mingi’s first to pull away, pressing gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck until he's right next to your ear. “For the record, I ain’t letting another man lay a hand on you, darlin’,” His hands tighten around your waist. Calloused fingertips dancing along the soft exposed skin of your hips and back. You smile against where your head rests on his collarbone. “For the record, I ain’t letting another woman lay a hand on you, cowboy."

okay.. so whatd you think?

[unabashegirl]

Different 7 | College HS

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: Hiii, here is a new chapter. I hope you enjoy.

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She watched him as he lay beside her, his arm securely placed over her waist, holding her close. His eyes were tightly shut, his mouth slightly open, and his expression relaxed. She reached over and raised the blinds a bit to see better while making sure the sun didn’t wake him. Leaning in, she kissed his nose softly before carefully sliding out of bed.

Y/N brushed her teeth, ran her fingers through her hair, then washed her face before heading downstairs. She prepared some coffee for everyone, knowing they would need it.

“Hi,” Y/N smiled at Sarah, who was trying to figure out how to start the coffee machine. Sarah turned around, smiling sheepishly at Y/N, a bit embarrassed.

“Need some help?” Y/N giggled, offering a hand.

“Thank you,” Sarah smiled as she leaned back against the counter while Y/N took out almond milk and regular milk from the fridge.

“How’d you sleep?” Y/N asked as she struggled to pour the coffee beans without spilling them.

“Good,” Sarah blushed. “The bed was really comfy,” she nodded repeatedly, trying to convince her.

“You mean Mitch was comfy?” Y/N teased, causing Sarah’s eyes to widen and her cheeks to turn pink, reminding her of Harry.

“How did you know?” Sarah giggled, shaking her head, surprised that Y/N had noticed and hadn’t said anything before, especially with the boys around. Sarah liked that.

“It was easy. The way you both acted around each other. I just figured,” Y/N shrugged as she walked to the pantry. “Would you like something to eat? Eggs, avocado toast, oatmeal, cereal, fruit salad?” she offered as she looked through.

“Whatever you’re having,” Sarah replied, and Y/N nodded, taking out a few avocados and a loaf of bread.

“How was Harry?” Sarah asked, making Y/N instantly gloat. Y/N started preparing everything while Sarah sat on one of the stools on the other side of the island.

“He was good,” Y/N smiled, remembering yesterday’s events and replaying them in her mind. She nodded back and began helping Y/N make the food.

“Do you want to sit outside?” Y/N asked as she noticed how beautiful the day was.

“Yes, it looked great out there.” After the food was ready, they carried it outside and sat at a table beside the pool. Y/N could still remember her mom purposely asking the decorator for a small table outside just so they could enjoy the nice weather when given the chance.

“Do you really like Harry?” Sarah asked bluntly as she took a sip of her coffee.

“I do. I really do,” Y/N answered, then took a bite of her toast. “It’s not that hard to do so.” She took another sip of coffee to wash down the food before leaning back in her seat. “He’s just so different, so gentle, so sweet, and so carefree. I feel so comfortable around him. I find it easy to talk to him about anything, whether its about my parents or my feelings.” Y/N tore her gaze from the sky to meet Sarah’s.

“I guess I’m asking because you’re so out of his league, you know?” Sarah said. There it was again—the constant need to categorize people based on their appearance.

“Sometimes things aren’t what they seem,” Y/N explained before continuing to eat and enjoy her breakfast.

“What do you mean?” Sarah questioned, finishing her breakfast and now just drinking her cappuccino.

“Do you see this apartment? I’m sure you noticed the smiling family portraits on the wall by the entrance” Y/N cleaned the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Yet, this family is broken” She smiled. “We might be wealthy, but our family relationships and dinamics are toxic. Everyone was too engulfed in their self's interests, traveling and shopping.” Y/N shrugged as she took her last bite. “I'm thankful for all the opportunities my parents’ hard work have provided me, but I miss the simple things—like coming home to my mother, seeing my dad arrive from work every day, and having dinner as a family.”

“You’re right. We all have different types of problems,” Sarah said, nodding as they looked at the horizon and enjoyed each other’s company, the cold fresh air, and the silence. It was one of those autumn afternoons when the sun shone brightly enough to feel it burn against your skin, but it was windy and cool.

“Hey,” they heard the door from the backyard slide open, and Harry walked out with sleepy eyes, messy hair, and a confused expression across his face. “How long have you two been up?” he asked with a rough, groggy voice as he made his way outside.

“Just a few minutes,” Sarah answered as she leaned back in her chair and waved at him. He walked up to Y/N, leaned down, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed the side of her head. It was innocent and soft but sweet.

“Are you cold?” he whispered, running his hands over her bare forearms. She shook her head and unwrapped herself from him.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked as she stood up in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and kissed his chin. “Morning,” she added. He smiled and shook his head before leaning down and kissing her. Sarah coughed, and they pulled away. Harry hid his face in the crook of Y/N’s neck while they giggled.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against her skin. Sarah was laughing softly and shaking her head.

“I get it now. She’s hot and has a brain,” Sarah shrugged, getting up from her seat. “I’m going to check on the others,” she excused herself and headed inside, leaving the two of them alone.

“I thought you had left,” Harry said as he sat down on the seat Y/N had previously occupied. Y/N slowly sat down sideways on his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck while holding her cup with the other. "I thought it had all been a dream".

“I was just hungry, and I needed some coffee. Would you like some?” she offered as she gently pulled on his hair.

“I'm not a big fan” Harry replied, and Y/N frowned and nodded. “I’m more of a tea guy. So, how is this going to work?” he asked while holding her by the waist. “I mean, us. How were we going to see each other?”

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll see each other. I’ll make sure of it,” Y/N said, with a few ideas forming in her mind, though she wasn’t planning to share them yet. She wanted it to be a surprise. Harry only nodded and leaned in for another kiss, which Y/N gladly returned.

After a brief make-out session, they walked back inside where everyone was waiting for them.

“How did you guys sleep?” Y/N asked as she washed her plate and Sarah’s, placing them in the dishwasher.

“You’ve got really comfy beds,” Jeff smiled as he sat down on the last stool. “What are we doing now? I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Liam agreed, lifting his head from the counter. Y/N looked over at Harry, who was leaning against the counter and yawning.

“We could order in,” Sarah suggested as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

“We could watch a movie too,” Y/N agreed. “It’s time for lunch anyway.” They all nodded and started debating what to eat and from where. They finally settled on Taco Bell and made the order.

“I’m going to head upstairs and take a shower,” Y/N told them as they all made their way into the living room. “There are drinks in the fridge. Help yourselves,” she smiled before running up the stairs. She decided to take a quick shower, then blow-dried her hair. She settled on a burnt orange shirt, some mom jeans, and a belt. She decided to just moisturize her face and skip makeup before heading down.

Harry was sitting in the corner of the couch, curled up in a little ball. As soon as he noticed her, he sat up and reached out for her. She maneuvered her way through everyone and turned on the fireplace, noticing everyone cuddling up.

“Oh man, can this get any better?” Mitch said as he tucked his arms behind his head. Liam laughed, and so did Jeff.

“Don’t get used to it,” Mitch commented as he cuddled closer to Sarah.

Y/N sat beside Harry and leaned over to pull the blankets out of a basket. She tossed one to Sarah and Liam so everyone could share. She took one for herself and Harry and spread it over their bodies.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, pulling her closer to him. Y/N smiled and pecked his lips before turning her attention back to the TV.

They were halfway through the movie when the food arrived. The boys ate, and then they decided it was finally time for everyone to go home since they all had classes the next day. Y/N insisted on taking Harry home, which he eventually agreed to after much convincing.

“What are you doing after class tomorrow?” she asked as she drove across town, holding his hand tightly, resting them on her lap.

“Nothing much. I thought I might just catch up on homework and study,” he replied. Y/N hummed back, realizing she was going back to an empty apartment. It had been nice having everyone over.

“Do you have practice?” he asked, dragging her out of her deep thoughts.

“I do. We have another game on Wednesday. It’s going to be a tough one,” Y/N said, still remembering Coach Mary’s pep talk on Friday. She had yelled at them for the entire three-hour practice.

“I’m sure you guys will do great,” Harry commented as he looked through his phone. Y/N agreed as she finally pulled up to his street. She stopped the car right in front of his door, as usual. He unbuckled himself and leaned over the console.

“I don’t want you to go,” Harry said, causing Y/N to smile as butterflies filled her stomach. She suddenly felt like she was in fourth grade.

“Me neither,” Y/N whispered as she brushed her lips against his. He smiled one last time before kissing her. They kissed for a few minutes until she finally pulled away.

“Go,” she pecked his lips once more before he opened the door and got out.

Y/N sat in the car for a few minutes until she saw him enter the dorm. But just before she could start the car again, Harry ran out.

“My parents are here. They came to visit,” he exhaled loudly. “My mom wanted me to ask if you’d like to have coffee and dessert with us,” he stuttered, fiddling with his hands and looking incredibly nervous about what she might say. “I—I know it’s very soon, but they would like to meet you,” he added. “You don’t have to, though.”

“Can I park here?” she asked, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous about meeting his parents. They had only spent time together a few times, but she was willing to meet them.

“Yes,” he exhaled, relieved that she had agreed. Y/N turned off the car and got out, thankful that she had dressed appropriately.