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#i was worried it was gonna disappear right before my eyes
goldensunset · 1 year
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sobbing screaming crying. finally won this tera raid
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viviaj · 10 months
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its 6:57 in the morning and you can vaguely feel kuroo’s cock pressing against you.
with his hand pressed against your soft stomach, he silently presses against your back. you’re not really awake, but you’re not exactly asleep either.
kuroo loves morning sex, he likes to feel you and hear your whiny sounds as your eyes struggle to adjust to the early light— as they adjust to him intruding your peaceful sleep.
he’s a pervert, he thinks for a moment; wanting to press his fingers into you while you’re barely awake. he thinks he should feel guilty, but you always react so dubiously that he can’t help himself.
with his cock still rubbing against you methodically, he reaches for your little shorts and slips his hand down to your soft sweet cunt.
he runs his hand over your thighs, and every part where you connect with him. it’s not enough.
he’s slipping a hand between your folds, gently feeling you. there was no intent to get you off; just a pure moment of wanting to feel you and touch you. he slips a single finger into you and its him groaning into your shoulder.
“baby?” he murmurs against you and a small noise comes from the back of your throat, “you’re so soft,” you can hear the smile in his voice.
“i have to, baby,” he’s sitting up and gently prying your legs apart, “i have to put my cock in you baby, okay?”
he’s not really asking, more so just letting you know. he’s not wearing a condom.
your body twitches up into him as he enters you, just letting himself feel around you. your hands move up to his arms as you murmur that he “shouldn’t”.
“i don’t see you making much of an effort to stop me,” and you just let yourself whine, eyes pressed closed as kuroo is everywhere on you.
“but we shouldn’t, kuroo, we can’t,” he thinks it’s funny when you act like this because as soon as he takes his cock out, you’ll whine and groan, just like you are now. you’re so predictable.
so he does that. he moves down to your neck, kissing you lightly over, and over again. “just the tip, please. please?” you’re begging, just like he knew you would. he loves you.
“oh? just the tip?” you nod quickly, “okay baby, just the tip.”
it is not just the tip.
with one hand, he’s holding your legs up; giving himself the world-class view of watching his cock disappear into your pretty pussy.
you’re breathtaking like this. smooth, and sweet and pretty. he can’t help himself, and how could you even blame him? not when he’s so close to you, and so sweet to you as he’s smiling down at your batting eyes.
“what is it? talk to me, baby,” no words come out, just a soft hiccup coming from your lips. “you don’t have to do anything, you’ve done enough,” his eyes soften with the softness in his smile; which do not correspond to the way hes moving in and out of you.
kuroo and you have never fucked without a condom before, and it shows. it feels so intensely different, with the knowledge that this is something you shouldn’t be doing, it’s explosive.
“gonna cum in you, yeah? just let me take care of you.”
“kuroo, we- we can’t, we shouldn’t,” you’re pathetically murmuring, hips moving up towards him. everything you’re saying is contradicting your actions, it’s silly.
“okay baby, yeah, i won’t, dont worry, ” kuroo lies. with your face buried into his neck, you mouth at the skin there, unable to say much.
he tells you how good you feel, how your cunt is so soft and he just can’t help it.
“you’re so warm,” you whine into him, the feeling of him cumming in you foreign, it doesn’t feel right.
kuroo reaches down to kiss you wherever he can manage to reach you, his arms keeping you where you are.
“good morning.”
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august126 · 1 month
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Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college.
You're pretty sure your feelings aren't reciprocated... until one night that changes everything.
Warnings:Age Difference,Joel is 49 and Reader is 24,Oral Sex,Car Sex,semi-public sex (sort of),Flirting,Masturbation, and Dirty Talk
Words:12,334
a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared.
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“Y’know, while ‘m happy that you’re livin’ with me again, I’d appreciate it f’ya started tryin’ to find a job that put that fancy degree t’use.” You peer over the top of the book you’d been reading at your dad, who’s taking up a spot at the end of your pool chair. His arms are crossed over his navy work shirt, drenched in sweat from working all day in the roiling heat customary of a Texas summer, and he’s watching you expectantly for an answer. 
You set your book on your chest and sigh. It’s not that you aren’t thankful or don’t appreciate your dad allowing you to move back in with him after graduating from college a year ago. You fully understand how fortunate you are not to have to worry about paying rent; you’re also eternally grateful to your dad for hooking you up with a decent-paying job as a secretary at the contracting business his best friend owns. However, you were getting very, very tired of having this conversation. 
“And you know that I am lookin’, but it’s silly for me t’apply for an entry-level position at a firm that’s gonna pay me less than what ‘m makin’ now.” Your dad rolls his eyes and grumbles something snippy under his breath, his go-to combo when he doesn’t like that you’re right. You pin him with a pointed stare. “Care to repeat that?”
“Said maybe I oughta tell Joel to dock your pay then,” your dad states, but any lingering irritation in his tone dissipates by the time he’s finished speaking. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and his slight frown turns into a small, teasing smile. 
“Somebody say my name?” Your gaze shifts from your dad to the sliding glass door behind him… or, rather, the man who opened it. 
Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college. Currently, Joel Miller is the tanned, broad, tall man striding leisurely through your backyard, navigating around your pool, and stopping beside your father. 
He slaps a hand on your dad’s shoulder in greeting and shoots you a bright grin as he coos, “Hey, lady.” Although Joel’s addressed you with the pet name for years, it never fails to cause an eruption of butterflies in your belly and a crimson blush to paint your cheeks.
“Hey, Joel,” you respond, trying to appear nonchalant even as you’re reining in your thundering heart and halting the pulse throbbing just south of your belly button. “Dad was jus’ sayin’ how he’s gonna ask ya to give me a pay cut.” Joel turns to your father, shaking his head.
“And risk losin’ my best employee? No can do, bud.” Even if he’s only joking, you preen at Joel’s praise. You cock an eyebrow at your dad, waiting for some sort of a comeback, but he only glares at you both before huffing. 
“I don’t like when the two of ya gang up on me.” You giggle, and Joel shoots you a lazy wink and a warm, victorious smile. “Anyway,” your dad turns his attention back to Joel, “you said reservation’s at 6:45?” 
“Uh-huh, so we oughta get our asses movin’,” Joel asserts, and your dad starts heading swiftly back toward your house. Joel’s eyes shift to you, still lounging on your purple pool chair, and he nudges your foot with the toe of his boot. “That means you too, lady.” 
“What’s the occasion?” 
“Sarah’s birthday,” Joel answers incredulously, and a lightbulb goes off in your head; that’s why you felt like you were forgettin’ something all day. “Please tell me ya didn’t forget my daughter’s birthday. Your friend’s birthday,” Joel teases, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 
“ Of course I didn’t forget,” you lie, narrowing your eyes. Joel sees right through it.
“I bet. Now go get changed ‘fore ya make us late … unless you plan on wearin’ that to dinner.” The blush you just managed to school comes back in full force as he unabashedly rakes his eyes over your body, and only now do you realize how little the tiny black bikini you’re wearing covers. 
Joel’s pretty brown eyes, usually so teeming with emotion, are utterly unreadable as you stand from your chair and begin heading inside. As you pass him, you mumble, “Don’t see why you’re complainin’.”
“Didn’t think I was.” You stumble a bit, glancing over your shoulder to find Joel’s gaze slowly sweeping down your body. When his stare lands on your ass, practically bare save for the minuscule cover your bikini bottom provides, his attention snaps back to your face, an impish grin on his lips that makes your skin flush. 
“Fuck off, old man,” you reply cooly, flipping him off as you saunter inside; you can still feel Joel’s gaze on you as you ascend the stairs, and if that makes you sway your hips more than usual… well, who the fuck cares? 
Once you’ve entered your bedroom and stripped off your bathing suit to assemble an outfit for dinner, your mind drifts into a space you’ve grown all too familiar with over the last five years. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t understand how wrong your crush on Joel Miller was. Ignoring the fact that he’s been your dad’s best friend for years, he’s also over two decades your senior and has a daughter only a few years younger than you. It’s disgusting, really, that you have even the slightest hint of attraction toward the man. And yet…
You really can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re no longer a college student parading around under the guise of adulthood. No, you’re a woman now, a woman with autonomy who is perfectly capable of making her own choices. If one of those choices is fucking her dad’s best friend, well, then so be it.
Even as you tell yourself this for the thousandth time, the sentiment feels weak. Sure, the opportunity to fuck Joel Miller is perfectly viable, in theory. However, so many things would have to go right for a thing like that to happen, and you are a notoriously unlucky person; quite frankly, you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve gotten lucky to the degree that you would need to for something like having sex with Joel to happen. 
For one, no one would ever be able to find out. Your dad, Sarah, any of your nosey neighbors. Not to mention that the logistical feat of such a thing would be tricky. Where would you guys meet up? Not your house, not his house, and anything public like a bar would be far too risky. No, it would have to be a one-off deal, and you’re not so sure you’d be able to stop at just a single taste of Joel.
And that’s all assumin’ he’d even want me, you think as you comb through your closet looking for a summer dress right for the occasion. Joel Miller had never, never shown a flicker of interest in you. That display by the pool, him ogling your ass in your skimpy bikini? That was just him keeping up the incessant string of banter that passed between the two of you. Sure, he was older than you, but that didn’t matter when it came to the way he treated you, as if you were his friend. 
Right, his friend. 
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. This line of thinking was an absolute rabbit hole, forcing you down, down, down until there was a headache ebbing at your temples and your veins were licking with equal parts frustration and lust. 
Three quick knocks come on your door, and your head whips around at the sound, pulling you out of your Joel-induced stupor. “Hey, lady?”
Fuck. You stand in your closet, stunned into inaction like a deer in headlights as you realize the only thing separating you, butt-ass naked, and Joel is the mahogany of your closed bedroom door. 
“Just checkin’ to see ‘f you’re ready yet. Sarah jus’ texted, said her and what’s-his-face are waitin’ at the restaurant.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You off-handedly wonder why you haven’t just slipped a dress on over your head on the off chance Joel decides to swing open your door, and you realize with a sick sort of excitement that you wouldn’t entirely mind Joel walking into your room at this very moment. 
“Almost,” you call out, forcing your words to come out smooth as the image of Joel entering your room enters your mind unbidden; you imagine how his eyes would take in your naked form, how it’d take three short strides for him to reach you, how he might drop his head and lick one of your already hardened nipples into his warm, waiting mouth. You swallow thickly before calling out, “Just need another second s’all.” 
A dull throb begins at the apex of your thighs as you picture the man on the other side of the wall putting his rough, work-worn hands all over your soft, supple skin. You wonder what his calloused touch would feel like against your flesh, if his honeyed skin would grow rosy under the thorough ministrations of your wet tongue, if his eyes would grow dark and a deep groan would drip from his lips as you closed your mouth around his-
“Sweetheart? Y’alright in there?” You think you mumble an airy affirmation as you mindlessly trace your fingers along your collarbone, imagining that they’re longer, thicker, belonging to another individual entirely. Any semblance of rationality escapes you as your other hand creeps down the smooth skin of your belly, and you cup your sex with a groan you’re barely able to muffle. You’re so outside of yourself, caught up in the slow path your fingers are tracing along your body, that you don’t notice the doorknob begin to turn. 
Only when your door starts to lurch open do you fall back into your body from where you were floating a few seconds earlier. Your eyes blow wide, a strangled cry of surprise and horror falling from your mouth as you realize the precarious situation you’re about to be thrust into. “WAIT.”
The slow sway of your door opening halts immediately, and you let out a breath, spinning on your heel to face your closet. “I- ‘m jus’ comin’ in t’make sure you’re alright.” You hastily decide on a sage green strapless dress, something you can slip into quickly and inconspicuously, and rip the silk garment from its hanger. 
“Yeah, no, ‘m good, Joel. Great, I’m great, jus’… yeah, gimme a sec.” You throw the dress on, its hem falling to your mid-thigh as you grab a pair of strappy sandals from the bottom of your closet and slip one on, hopping into the other as you approach your door. 
“Y’sure, baby? Ya sound-” You slip your shoe on and grab the door handle in one movement, opening it fully to give you an unobstructed view of the man you’d just been on the verge of touching yourself to. Wouldn’t be the first time, you think to yourself unhelpfully. 
He’s looking down at you, concern and curiosity bubbling in his gaze, and you raise your eyebrows at him. “See? ‘m fine, all good. Jus’ needed a minute.” Joel’s eyes blaze a lackadaisical trail over your body, and you swear you can feel him cataloging each inch of bare skin you have on display. He reaches out, plucking one of the flimsy green spaghetti straps between his thick fingers before letting it go to snap back against your shoulder. You stifle a gasp, and he brushes the hair careening down your chest back over your shoulder. 
“This is pretty,” he says, voice low and velvety, and you can feel your pussy beginning to grow wet at his praise. He bends down until his mouth hovers just next to your ear, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him: musky cologne and citrusy body wash and something unidentifiable yet so undoubtedly Joel. “Did ya mean t’be wearin’ it backward?”
You look down at yourself, heat rising to your face when you realize that he’s right: you’ve managed to put your dress on the wrong way. You shove Joel’s shoulder, and he takes a step back, a smug grin painted on his lips that makes you roll your eyes. 
“You’re a dick, y’know that?” He chuckles at your dig, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 
 “And you’re makin’ us late to this dinner. Now, can I trust ya to fix your dress yourself, or do ya need me to help?” He delivers it like a joke, and the logical part of your brain reminds you of that the moment your pulse begins to flutter. He’s just teasin’ you like he always does. 
However, the dark, hunger-tinged stare Joel is pinning you with doesn’t feel humorous. You swallow thickly, saliva pooling in your mouth and pinning your tongue to the roof. “I-” you stutter, words failing you as he continues dragging his eyes slowly over your flustered form. “You-”
“Spit it out, baby.” Baby. You turn the endearment over in your head a few times, testing the weight of it on your tongue. Finally, the corners of your lips pull up in a cheeky smile and your eyelids grow heavy as you gaze up into Joel’s face. 
“You askin’ to undress me, Miller?” And this doesn’t feel like your typical banter. No, this feels weighted, laced with something headier. Something full of innuendo and promises and an unquenchable appetite for… something. And then your dad’s voice is cutting harshly through the fog.
“Hey hon, I’ll be- oh, Joel, didn’t realize ya came up here.”
Joel doesn’t even spare your dad a glance, eyes still on you as he says, “Jus’ wanted to check and see if your slow-ass kid was ready t’go.” Your dad snorts, and you narrow your eyes at Joel before turning the withering look to your father. 
“Don’t laugh at that.” 
“Sorry, sweetie, but ya are kinda slow.” Joel’s smirk only grows, and you huff incredulously. Your dad, apparently oblivious to the bubble of tension he popped, continues. “Anywho, was jus’ sayin’ that I’m gonna head out to the car ‘cause we need t’get goin’, so quit your dilly dallyin’ and let’s get a move on.” He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat. 
You look at the ground as you mutter, “Yes, Dad, ‘m just about ready,” and your reply is met with a loud clap of your father's hands.
“Wonderful!” he exclaims, rubbing his palms together before bringing a heavy hand down on Joel’s shoulder. “C’mon, Joel, you can wait with me in the car. I need t’talk to ya ‘bout some work shit anyway.” Your dad begins to drag Joel down the stairs, but not before Joel can get the last word in between you. 
He cranes his head back, catching your glare as he descends the stairs. “Y’heard your daddy, no more dilly dallyin’,” he sing-songs, and you scoff. 
“Oh, fuck you, Miller.” “Language, ma’am,” you hear your dad chastise sternly, and you grumble a half-assed apology as you close your bedroom door behind you. It only takes you a minute to flip your dress so that you’re wearing it the correct way and throw on a pair of light pink, lace panties, bounding down the stairs and out the front door when you’re ready. Before you know it, you’re seated in the backseat of Joel’s old pickup truck as it cruises down the highway toward Austin’s metro area. 
You watch the residential neighborhoods littered with little kids running through sprinklers and elderly couples sitting in chairs on their front porches morph into the city, full of streets tightly lined with buildings and bar-hoppers entering their first destination of the night. The sun still hangs rather high in the sky, dappling the world in a warm amber glow as Joel pulls up outside a quaint Italian bistro nestled between an ice cream parlor full of bright-eyed children and a sushi restaurant rattling with the heavy bass of the music from within. 
“Cute lil’ place,” you say, surveying the old brick exterior of the building and the burgundy awning hanging over the open front door that bears the name of the restaurant, Palermio’s, in loopy, white script. “Sarah’s choice?”
Joel reaches his hand behind your dad’s headrest, using one hand to turn the wheel while he starts to squeeze his truck into the last snug parking spot outside of the bistro. “No, darlin’, I did.” You stare at his side profile as he maneuvers the truck, surprise lacing your features. It’s not until he’s parked the car and meets your eyes in the rearview mirror as he’s straightening out in his seat that you realize he’s bullshitting you. 
“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you throw open your door and slide from the backseat, and he’s following you a second later.
“Y’know, you oughta be nicer t’me. I am your boss,” he says as you round his truck, his arm brushing yours, and you look up at him. “Could fire ya for bein’ disrespectful, ‘f I really wanted to.” You smirk at him and shrug. 
“Ya could, but then you’d be losin’ your best employee, right?” His chest bounces as he laughs, and you smile at the pleasant noise before getting distracted by how his relatively new-looking cream-colored t-shirt bearing the album cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors stretches tautly over the slopes of his wide shoulders. 
“Damn right, lady,” he agrees, his gaze crawling over your body as he drags his thumb over his mostly pepper, slightly salt mustache that decorates his upper lip. Your skin crawls pleasantly as you feel him examining you, and you’re just about to reach your father, who’s waiting for the two of you by the entrance to the restaurant, when you hear Joel quietly say, “Prettiest employee, too.”
Your head whips around, feet planting on the concrete as you wait for Joel to say something, anything else. Much to your chagrin, he struts right past you shamelessly, heading inside as your dad gives you a confused look. 
“You comin’, honey?” You shake your head, trying to dispel the medley of thoughts whirring around your brain. Did I hear him right? No, no, he didn’t mean that. Definitely not. 
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, stepping inside with a sheepish smile in your dad’s direction. “Thought I heard someone callin’ my name, ‘s my bad.” Your dad just nods his head in understanding before draping an arm over your shoulder and steering you toward the back of the restaurant, where you can see Joel already greeting the members of your party who have already arrived. 
As you draw closer, you watch him envelope his daughter in a firm hug, rocking back and forth for a few seconds as he whispers something in her ear. She giggles, punching him lightly in the shoulder, and when Sarah pulls back from his embrace, her deep brown eyes, which are almost identical to her father’s, catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder. Before you have a chance to react, she’s colliding with you so hard you grunt. 
“You came!” she squeals, jumping up and down as you wrap your arms around her and giggle. 
“Course I came, Sarah. Wouldn’t ‘ve missed your twenty-first birthday for the world, ‘re ya kiddin’?” She takes a step back, holding you by the shoulders before drawing you back in for another tight hug. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Jus’ didn’t know ‘f you’d be able to make it, didn’t know ‘f you’d have other plans or somethin’.” She bites her lip when you pull away this time, trying to hide the way she’s beaming at you, and a big smile paints your face. 
“Nah, no plans more important than my best friend’s birthday.” She smiles and leads you back to the table, where your dad and Joel have already found their seats. You lean against her and whisper conspiratorially, “Did have to fight with my boss t’get some time off for the occasion, though. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, like ya wouldn’t believe.” Sarah giggles, leveling you with a knowing grin. 
“I’m sure I’ve got some idea,” she says as she takes her seat at the head of the table, and you slip around to take the only empty seat, which happens to be between Joel and Tommy, his younger brother that you’ve only seen a handful of times. You offer the younger Miller brother a polite smile, which he returns with a cheeky smirk before you turn back to the birthday girl. 
“You’ve ain’t ever been that excited t’see me,” Joel says accusingly at Sarah, jerking his head toward where Sarah had practically tackled you, and you stifle a laugh at the hint of playful jealousy in his tone. 
“‘s ‘cause I’m not a grumpy old man,” you snark, and Tommy guffaws beside you, reaching around your back to slap Joel’s shoulder lightheartedly. 
“She gotcha there, big brother,” he says, accent saturated with his heavy Texas twang. Joel grumbles something incoherent and Tommy shoots you an amused wink. You watch your dad snort with laughter in his seat across from you, and Sarah’s boyfriend, Luke, who’s seated on her other side opposite Joel tries not to look too entertained by your ribbing of his girlfriend’s father, wisely busying himself with the menu. 
A few minutes after ordering your drinks your waitress reappears carrying a large tray brimming with an assortment of alcoholic beverages. You take a sip of your Pinot Noir, hiding a small smile behind the fruity flavor as the waitress sets a large cocktail layered with green, white, and red liquid and adorned with a small Italian flag attached to a thin, black straw in front of a wide-eyed Sarah. You’re unable to mask your laughter, however, when Joel’s eyes find the massive drink and he nearly chokes on his sip of Peroni. 
“Babygirl,” he sputters, still recovering from his small conniption, “that’s a lotta-”
“I’m twenty-one now, Dad, I can handle my alcohol,” Sarah assures him with an annoyed roll of her eyes and a look at you that says can you believe this guy? And it’s true, Sarah is more than capable of handling her drinks if the videos she’s shown you of her time at college are any indication. 
“I know, jus’... jus’ pace yourself, yeah?” She concedes with a small huff, and you wiggle your eyebrows at her tauntingly. 
“Yeah, Sarah, make sure ya pace yourself. Got a while ‘fore ya can hang with us big dogs. Right, Joel?” You elbow him in the side, and he looks at you disdainfully. 
“You’re a little shit, y’know that?” he murmurs under his breath. You shrug, snagging a piece of fresh, warm bread from the basket the waitress sat in the middle of the table and dipping it in the plate of olive oil and seasoning before stuffing it in your mouth. 
“Learned it fwom the besht,” you say merrily, grinning at him through your mouth full of food, and he sneers at you in disgust before turning his attention to your father and Tommy, who are in a heated debate over the Dallas Cowboys chances of success in the upcoming season.  
“I’m tellin’ ya, Tommy, this s’our year! We jus’ picked up that kid from- from… aw shit, where’s he from again?” Your dad rubs his temples, hoping to dislodge the information from some small, dusty compartment of his brain. 
“Notre Dame,” Joel chimes in as he reaches for his own piece of bread, and your dad snaps his fingers as his face lights up in remembrance.
“Notre Dame!” he bellows, and you shoot him a look that he promptly returns with an apologetic wince. “Notre Dame, yeah, s’right,” he says, quieter this time with a little smile, and you leave him and Tommy to continue their chat as you tune in to the conversation at the other end of the table. 
“Anyway, Dad, so Becca-”
“Which one s’that?” Sarah looks at Joel in disbelief. 
“Becca. Rebecca Landry. My best friend in high school, goes t’LSU with me, we lived together ‘fore I moved in with Luke…” Joel just stares at his daughter with vacant eyes, and you snort. “Dude, come on, ya literally grilled for her graduation party.” Joel shakes his head, taking a swig of his beer. You watch how his throat bobs as he swallows and quickly avert your eyes, hoping no one caught you gawking. 
“Sorry, hon, doesn’t ring a bell.” She huffs, and Joel smirks, clearly just giving her a hard time. 
“Whatever. Anyway, her boyfriend proposed to ‘er last week, and it was jus’ the cutest thing. Real private ‘cause y’know how she is. She told me they don’t have a date set yet, but they’re thinkin’ ‘bout next Spring. Said t’ask if she should add ya to the guest list.” Joel hums non-committally, clearly lacking an opinion on the matter, and you pinch his elbow. He jerks out of your grip, looking at you with annoyance, and you cock your head in Sarah’s direction. When he turns to see her expectant glance, he huffs, head leaning back as he stares at the ceiling. 
“Tell ‘er I’ll be there,” Joel capitulates, and Sarah beams in excitement before giving you a grateful grin. 
“Awesome! She’ll be so excited, she loves ya.” Joel crosses his arms over his broad chest, shaking his head slightly as he leans back in his chair and spreads his thighs farther. You have to try desperately to keep your breath from hitching at the action. 
“Speakin’ o’ weddings and proposals n’ all that,” your dad says, giving Luke a friendly clap on the back. “When’s it your turn, buckaroo? ‘s been, what, three years of datin’? Gotta be soon, hm?” 
Luke looks like he wants nothing more than to melt into a puddle and sink into the floor at the line of questioning, something your dad remains completely oblivious to. Feeling bad, you throw the guy a lifeline. 
“Leave ‘im alone, Dad. Jesus, you ain’t even that interested in my love life,” you huff, sipping your wine. Luke seems to remember how to breathe, a look of thanks on his face as your dad scrunches his nose up.
“‘s cause I’m not. Don’t wanna know about some boy who’s wastin’ your time ‘cause he ain’t good ‘nough for ya.”
“Your daddy’s right, hon, ya deserve more than what some boy can give ya ,” you hear from your right side, and then a thick arm drapes loosely over your shoulders. You turn to look at Tommy, who’s closer to you than the last time you paid him any attention. 
“Knock it off, Tommy,” you hear Joel grumble, and you watch Tommy’s eyes dart over your shoulder and narrow minutely. An expression of innocence plasters over his face to quickly replace the mischievous smirk previously there.  
“Knock what off, big brother?” Your gaze shifts to Joel, and you nearly wilt at the stormy look he’s shooting his brother. His eyes are simultaneously full of emotion and totally unreadable, jaw ticking in… wait, is he jealous?
“Quit.” You bristle at Joel’s harsh tone, not realizing until it’s too late that when you shrink back at his timbre, you lean further into Tommy. You can feel the egotism rolling off of the younger Miller brother, and the tension building in Joel’s figure seems to grow until he’s at serious risk of snapping. You’re sure that the only way this ends is with Tommy making another haughty comment that results in Joel leaping over your lap and strangling the man…
“Alright, who ordered the lasagna?” Your waitress’ voice dissipates the thunderous air instantaneously, and everyone’s attention snaps to her. The wide, practiced smile she’s wearing falters for just a second, and she shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, ‘m I interrupting somethin’?” The tight pinch of Joel’s face evaporates before your eye, and you watch, stunned, as he turns toward your waitress. 
“Nah, darlin’, you’re alright. Reckon that’ll be mine,” he says, cool as clam. By the time all the food is dished out and you’re digging into your respective dinners, the near fight is long forgotten. Unfortunately, you’re not able to shake the bitter feeling of envy that twisted in your stomach at hearing Joel call the waitress “darlin’”. 
Before long, all six of your plates have been cleaned, and each of you sits back in your chairs, thoroughly stuffed full of rich Italian food. Your dad belches, drawing a laugh from the other men at the table while your and Sarah’s faces pinch in distaste, and the casual conversation continues as the street outside grows raucous with the Austin nightlife. 
Your dad, ever the chatterbox, is going on about some upcoming project at his contracting firm when you feel it: the firm weight of an arm draped over the backrest of your seat. You pay it no mind at first, chalking it up to Tommy’s touchy but harmless hands. 
That is until you feel soft, gentle shapes being drawn into the bare skin of your bicep on Tommy’s side. Your brain doesn’t comprehend the logistics of this immediately, and your head snaps in Tommy’s direction to find the younger man’s attention focused raptly on your father with his hands in his lap. 
Your back straightens, and goosebumps prickle across your skin when it finally clicks whose hands are on you; you slowly, inconspicuously face your father again, pretending like you’re listening so as not to spark anyone at the table’s awareness, all while peeking at Joel out of the corner of your eye. 
At first glance, it appears that he, like everyone else at the table, is completely engaged with the words tumbling from your dad’s mouth. But you know Joel too well. You pick up on the slight quirk of his lips, the way his thick thighs spread almost obnoxiously wide so his knee grazes yours, and how he’s drumming the thick fingers of his other hand rhythmically against the table. Joel felt how your body reacted to his touch.
And he liked it. 
That piece of information is what has the low burn in your belly from earlier in your bedroom reigniting, blazing up your skin and making your neck and chest flush a deep red. Joel must be able to sense your blundering state because he removes his hand from you altogether, causing your heart to drop. Your whole body begins to slump in disappointment just as you feel Joel replace his touch on the bare skin of your thigh, exposed when you sat down and the already short dress you’d thrown on in a panic earlier rode higher up your legs. 
He squeezes you there, thumb passing back and forth lightly, and your thighs spread of their own volition to allow him more room. You can see his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but he’s able to play it off easily as a reaction to your dad’s story. You do the same with the small smile that stretches your lips as his hand begins to creep higher up your leg. 
And it’s risky, what you’re doing. Allowing your dad’s best friend, the father of the girl you’ve lived next to almost your entire life, your boss, to inch his big, calloused hand closer and closer to where you want him most right here at this very public dinner. 
And yet, you simply do not care. 
Well, you don’t care until you feel the pad of his thumb brush your sex over your panties, and you jerk at the sensation, thighs closing to stop the movement of his hands. The action draws your dad’s attention to you, and his brow furrows as he scans your face. 
“You okay, hon? You’re not lookin’ too hot.” Your pulse thunders in your ears as you fumble for an excuse. 
“No, yeah, ‘m fine. Jus’... yeah, not – uh, not feelin’ too hot.” Everyone at the table looks at you with concern. Even Joel, though his eyes possess an air of arrogance at your state. The bastard. 
“Babe, you can go home ‘f ya need to,” Sarah says, and your eyes go wide as you shake your head. 
“No! No, ’m fine, really. I wanna stay for you, ‘s your birthday ‘n all.”
She waves her hand as though she’s physically batting away your excuse. “Party’s basically over anyway. Luke and I were gonna meet some friends at a bar a few blocks over anyway, so y’all are good t’go whenever.” 
“Well, I’m ready t'head home now,” your dad says, beginning to rise from his chair. “Rangers game ’s on at 9, and 'f we hurry, I won’t miss more than the first inning.” Joel, reading your dad’s eagerness to get home as his cue to be ready to leave as well, stands, and you catch the way he subtly adjusts himself on the way up. You resign yourself to the fact that the fleeting, secret moment between you is slipping through your fingers, and, albeit reluctantly, you follow his lead.
Tommy’s still seated, sipping casually from his beer, when he informs your dad, “Nah, man, it’s Friday night in downtown Austin. Reckon y’all won’t get home ‘til the third inning, at least.” Your father curses, running a hand over his semi-bald head in genuine worry, and you almost have to laugh at the concern twisting his features into a grimace. The urge to laugh quickly fades as you watch Tommy shrug his shoulders and carelessly say, “There’s a place 'bout five minutes away, lil’ sports bar my buddies and I go to t’watch the game sometimes. Can get kinda rowdy, but you’re welcome to tag along, ‘f ya want.” 
Your jaw almost falls off at Tommy, who’s completely oblivious to the bone he’s just thrown you. When you turn just enough to allow you a view of Joel out of the corner of your eye, you immediately notice his almost imperceptibly stiffer posture. You watch your dad’s face light up with excitement, a hell yeah on the tip of his tongue.
And then, suddenly, his expression drops and he’s looking at you guiltily. “Aww shit, Tommy, that sounds great, but ‘f this one,” he says, jabbing a thumb in your direction, “ain’t feelin’ well, I oughta get ‘er home.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 
You go to object, to insist, practically beg your dad to take Tommy up on his offer so that it’s just you and Joel on the ride home, but Joel beats you to it. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, man, I’ll take ‘er.” For the second time in mere minutes, you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to gawk at one of the Miller brothers. 
“You sure, Joel? Don’t wanna inconvenience ya or nothin’.” You watch Joel shrug, and then he turns to you, pinning you with an unreadable stare. 
“Y’alright with that, lady?” You stare at him, speechless. Are you alright with spending the entire ride home, perhaps even longer if your dad stays to watch the whole game and Sarah is bar-hopping, alone with Joel Miller right after his hand was brushing against your wet, wanting pussy?
Yeah, you were pretty fucking alright with that.  
Your silence must draw on for an uncomfortably long time because Joel raises his eyebrows at you, prompting an answer. “Yes!” you say, just a touch too loud, and you take a deep breath before turning back to your dad. “Yeah, sounds good – cool, ‘s cool with me.” 
Your dad gives you one more half-hearted once-over, verifying that you don’t need his escort home, but he’s in a losing battle with himself; the moment that Joel offered his services, your dad was sold. The coy little, “Well, ‘f you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” he extends to Joel is like a tepid stamp of finality as his mind is already half-full with Rangers jargon. 
Joel gives your dad a nod before jerking his head toward the door. “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get ya home.” And you try, you really do try not to walk with your chest puffed out the entire way to Joel’s truck. You try to keep up the facade of illness that was brought on by your lustful tizzy. 
But Joel called you darlin’, and fuck if it didn’t sound better falling from his lips when it was directed at you and not some waitress. 
***
Tommy, for perhaps the first time in his entire life, was right; traffic absolutely crawled in the downtown Austin area at this time on a Friday night. You’d peeled away from the restaurant almost thirty minutes ago, when the sun was beginning its descent. 
Now, the analog numbers on Joel’s dash blink 8:57 p.m. , the summer sky having just shifted from muddy brown to steel grey and will soon start to give way to the dark of night and the whisperings of stars, and you’ve just managed to make it out of the city. 
Thirty minutes, nearly two thousand seconds, and each one totally void of speech. Joel stared straight out the front windshield, hands carefully gripping the steering wheel as you leaned your cheek against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the metro landscape give way to soil and farmland, groups of clubgoers replaced by black and brown spotted cows. 
It’s not until the current CD in Joel’s radio reaches its end and the gears click, switching to the familiar crooning voice of Bob Dylan, that your soft singing breaks the silence. 
“What was that?” Joel asks, and you turn your gaze to watch him, focus still intent on the road in front of him. 
“Nothin’, just singin’.” He looks at you then, just a quick glance in your direction, but it makes your blood sing. 
“Y’like Bob Dylan? “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”, hm?” You shrug noncommittally, and his responding smirk makes you sit up in your seat. 
“What’re ya laughin’ at?” Joel just shakes his head, and you lean over and swat his bicep playfully. “What?” 
“Nothin’, baby.” The word sounds perfect in his low, gruff timbre, and you grin stupidly. When he sees your expression, he reaches over and wraps his big palm around your knee, giving it a shake. “Got good taste s’all. Didn’t expect it from ya.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to pretend like the large spread of his hand over your bare skin doesn’t make your core throb. 
“Don’t act so surprised, Miller. You should know better than anyone how much I like old shit.” He clucks his tongue, sliding his hand farther up your leg and squeezing your thigh in warning. 
“Careful,” he advises teasingly, but you’re not feeling particularly cautious tonight. 
“Says you.”
“Says me?” 
You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind the action as all the warmth in your body is currently shooting to a spot in your tummy. “Yeah, Joel, says you. I wasn’t the one with my hands between your legs in the middle of dinner tonight.” You watch Joel’s posture straighten and you try to hide your grin at his reaction.
Bingo. 
You bite your lip and watch his eyes dart in your direction. Even in the ever-darkening dusk, you can see the hint of hunger in his pupils. “Didn’t see you complainin’.” You adjust in your seat, and Joel’s hand slips higher, his pinky just barely dipping beneath the hem of your dress.
“‘s ‘cause I liked it,” you say matter-of-factly, and you watch him exhale heavily. His head swings lazily to look at you, eyes dropping to where his palm rests on your slightly spread thighs before traveling up to meet your stare. 
“Yeah? Liked me touchin’ your pussy with all those people ‘round? Any of ‘em coulda caught us, pretty girl. Coulda caught me feelin’ how fuckin’ wet you were, soakin’ through your panties.” And you’re almost sure Joel’s trying to make a point in there somewhere. That what you two did was risky in and of itself, not to mention the fact that he was touching you like that in public. 
And yet all you can focus on is that name. Pretty girl. You think it’s your favorite thing he’s ever called you.
When you don’t answer right away, Joel looks back to the road. You watch him check the rearview mirror, and then he’s making a left down a long road and parking the car on a small dirt pull-off a few hundred feet in.
You look around, surveying your surroundings; tall prairie grass decorates your side of the road while a large cornfield stretches over the side closest to Joel, and the only thing lighting the earth for a few miles in any direction is the soft glow of the moon overhead. When you focus your attention on Joel again, half of his face is shadowed while the gleam of lunar opalescence illuminates the other half. 
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, and you can’t help but stare. You reach toward Joel, cautiously at first, but emboldened when he squeezes your leg. You cup his jaw and rub your thumb over his stubbled jaw; his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and you shuffle closer, Joel’s hand falling away from you as you sit up on your knees and reach across the center console to cup the dark side of his face with your other hand. 
His palm finds a new position on your hip, and when his eyes open again, revealing his dark, chocolatey irises to you, your body leans closer toward his of its own volition. As if something inside of him, perhaps the very marrow of his bones, is magnetized to yours. 
“Joel,” you say, soft voice cutting through the silence in the cab of the truck. 
“Hmm?”
“Is this… is this bad? What we’re doing?’ His eyes dart around your face, taking in your heated gaze with a warmth of his own. He sighs as his other hand traces up the side of your body before slipping around your shoulders and resting on the nape of your neck.
“I wouldn’t say it’s good.” You nod, scratching your nails lightly through the salt-and-pepper beard he’s let grow. 
“Should we stop?” It comes out as a whisper, laced with apprehension, tediousness, and want. So, so much want. 
“Probably.” And he’s right. Whatever this thing between you and Joel is, it’s not feasible. Sure, it would be great. Amazing, even… until it’s not. Until the appetite for each other dies out and what’s left is a hollow skeleton of awkward encounters and forced conversation to keep up appearances.
Either that or the hunger becomes all-consuming, to the point where you can’t eat, can’t breathe, can’t sleep without thoughts of Joel dominating your mind. 
And maybe that’s worse, you think. Finding out what Joel tastes like, what it feels like when he sinks into your wet heat, just for it to one day be stolen from you. 
Because there isn’t an angle to approach this from that doesn’t end in the same unfortunate reality; Joel can’t be yours. He will never be yours. 
And, so, yeah. You probably should stop. But as you go to pull away, to take your hands off of Joel and sit back in your seat while Joel returns the truck to the main road before depositing you safely at home like the good friend he is, Joel’s grip on the nape of your neck tightens. And then he’s tugging your mouth to meet his and your hands, still cupping his cheek, are pulling his face in to meet you halfway.
When Joel’s lips slot against yours, you’re surprised by how soft he is. Joel Miller, perpetually gruff and probably born with callouses etched into his hands, is so inconceivably gentle at the first contact of his mouth against yours. You sigh, breathing him in as he threads his fingers into your hair, and a moment of tranquility washes over you. This truck is the only place that has ever or will ever exist, and you and Joel are the only two people in the world.
You slide one of your hands from his jaw to his neck, stroking the solid strength of his throat, and a rough noise vibrates from him. You repeat the motion experimentally, and he groans into you, tongue darting out to politely ask for entrance into your mouth. 
You accept with an enthusiastic moan, and that’s when the seemingly endless reservoir of Joel’s reserve drains dry. He licks into you, tongue caressing yours when you part your lips for him, and the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you held steadily against him. He feasts on you, stealing the air you breathe as he kisses you ferociously. 
Joel sucks on your tongue when you go to mewl, and the sound is replaced by a wanton whine. You roll your hips over nothing, and Joel clocks the movement immediately. You feel his reluctance as he drags his mouth from yours, and you sit and wait, carefully assessing every minute change in his expression as you try to regain your composure. 
You’re sure you’re supposed to be embarrassed right now, ashamed that you couldn’t keep your neediness in check. However, you can only think about two things: how fucking horny you are at the moment, and how that was probably the only time you’ll ever kiss Joel because this entire thing is about to come crashing down in short-lived, fiery oblivion.
But Joel does something. Something that really shocks you, leaves you vulnerable to attack and exposed right down to the root of you. He looks you up and down, from the slightly frumpled state of your green dress to the no-doubt wild gleam in your eyes, and smirks before saying, “You need t’be filled up, don’t ya, baby?”
You smile and nod, licking your lips as you appraise the man sitting in front of you. He’s so intoxicatingly broad, the sleeves of his shirt stretching tightly over his biceps while the legs of his jeans pull taut along his thighs. You shift in your seat again, causing Joel to pull you closer, and though you’re uncomfortably sprawled across the center console, you’ve never felt more right than you do right now. 
Your lips are brushing Joel’s, so close you can feel the warm puffs of breath leaving his nostrils, and any slight surge forward by either of you would connect your mouths again. Instead, you stay like that, so close but still too far for your liking. 
“Tell me what it is you want, sweetheart.” You angle your head, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before drifting your lips back to hover over his. 
“Want your cock, Joel.” Your bluntness must take him by surprise because his head falls back against his seat and he groans. You take the opportunity to drop your lips to his neck, kissing it lightly before licking up the column of his throat and biting delicately at the junction where his neck meets his jaw. 
“Yeah?” He takes one of your hands and drags it down his front, letting you feel the muted strength of his abdomen tailored from years of manual labor and the soft swell of his belly before landing on the thick bulge in his pants. You pull away from where you were beginning to leave a small bruise on his neck to look at where your hand cups his clothed erection, and you practically drool at the sight. “You want this, hmm?”
“Yes,” you confirm airily before your eyes snap up to meet his, heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “Please, Joel, I- I need it.” He nods, the hand that guided yours leaving you to your own devices and drifting back up to rub his thumb over your lips. You take the opportunity to massage him through his pants, and he sighs, smirking at you. 
“Tell me where ya need it, honey,” he lilts, and you grip his bicep as you squeeze his cock lightly. “Need it here?” He nudges his thumb gently between your parted lips, and even as you shake your head, your mouth opens to him, allowing him to push his finger inside. You swirl your tongue over the salty pad of his thumb, switching to mellow kitten licks before taking it deeper. 
“No?” he asks, quirking a brow at you. He presses his thumb down against your tongue, and you open your mouth wide so he can see down your throat. “Gotta tell me where then, baby.” You close your mouth again, sucking on his thumb briefly before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. 
Your eyes never leave his, and you watch them turn impossibly darker when you tell him earnestly, “My pussy. Want you to stretch my cunt with your fat cock.” He huffs lightly at the vulgarity of your words, and you squeeze him through his pants again. 
“You’re a dirty fuckin’ girl, y’know that?” He looks almost in awe, and you smirk at him, beginning to crawl across the center console to straddle him. When he stops you with a hand to your sternum, you look at him in confusion. “We can’t tonight, darlin’. Wanna take my time with you when I fuck ya, gotta make sure I get ya ready.” 
You’re so utterly disappointed you ache with it, pouting at him as you draw in close. “But I’m ready now, Joel. So fuckin’ wet for you, have been since the restaurant.”
He gives you a chaste kiss before pulling back and jerking his head toward your seat. “Show me.” You smirk as you slink back into your seat. You rest with your back against the car door, your right leg dangling off the seat while you tuck your left leg up and spread your knees farther apart, causing the hem of your dress to ride up your thighs until it’s brushing your tummy. You can tell by the wrecked look in Joel’s eyes that from this angle, he has a perfect view of the damp spot decorating the slip of pink lace that is your underwear. 
“Fuck, baby, ya weren’t lyin’,” he mutters, fingers smoothing his mustache. “Pretty lil’ panties are soaked. That all for me?” You bite your lip and nod, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy as you ghost your fingertips over the soft skin of your thighs. He makes a noise of appreciation as he watches your movements hungrily, fist clenching as your digits move closer to your aching core.
“Mhm, f’course it is,” you assure, letting out a breathless, needy gasp when your fingers brush your clit over your underwear. You’re sure you must look fucked out, and you’d be embarrassed by that fact if it weren’t for the heady look Joel’s pinning you with right now. You whine as Joel brings his hand down to palm the thick, rigid outline of his cock bulging against his jeans, and your mouth goes dry at the sight. You roll your hips and whine at the stimulation, doing it again without breaking eye contact with Joel. 
He squeezes himself and groans as you rut slowly against yourself, dipping a finger down to tease at your soaking entrance over your damp panties, and he smirks. “You gonna show me how ya fuck yourself, baby? Show me how ya like it, hm?” 
And you would. You really, really would. Except Joel Miller is sitting in front of you with nothing but a few measly scraps of fabric preventing you from his hard length, and you think that it would be such a waste to not take advantage of that fact. 
Besides, you’ve already made yourself come more times than you can count with Joel Miller’s name on your tongue.
“No, baby,” you shake your head, and his brows pinch in confusion. You lick your lips, hand halting its ministrations as you sit up on your haunches and stare at Joel. “Want ya to fill me up.” 
He huffs exasperatedly at that, and his tone is laced with annoyance when he says, “Jus’ told ya, ‘m not fuckin’ ya t’night-” 
“Joel.” Your interruption shuts him up and he watches you lean in. You brush your lips over his, along his jaw and up his cheek before halting by his ear. “I want you,” you say, dragging a hand down his chest to rest over his in his lap, “to put your cock in my mouth and fill me up.” 
You apply pressure down over his hand, making him squeeze himself and the sound he makes is something close to a growl. He angles his head so that your lips meet for a heated kiss and he licks into your mouth immediately, tongue dancing with yours.
“Yeah?” Joel breathes into your mouth, and the hand not palming his dick threads into the hair at the nape of your neck. He tugs, pulling your head back so that you look down your nose at him with wide eyes and heavy lids. “Ya wanna suck me off?” You smile almost shyly and nod, and he tuts at you, bending to kiss the hollow of your throat before licking a stripe up your neck. 
“Don’t go quiet on me now, darlin’. You had so much t’say earlier, know this pretty mouth s’good for more than just takin’ my dick.” You whine, pressing your thighs together as best you can and rubbing, trying to give yourself some, any friction. 
“Wanna taste you, Joel,” you murmur, already delirious and you haven’t even gotten your mouth on him. “Want it so bad, please.” 
He rakes his eyes over you, takes in the needy glide of your thighs against each other and the ragged pants making your chest heave. He must take pity on your haggard form because he grins affectionately and releases his hand from your hair. 
“Since ya asked so nicely,” he says, palm gliding around to sit on your shoulder. He strokes the column of your throat a few times, watching you with a hooded gaze before nodding toward his crotch. “Go on, baby. Show me how much ya want it.”
You don’t need to be told any more than that before you’re hastily undoing his belt, ripping it from his pants and tossing it into the backseat while simultaneously popping the button on his jeans. Where your movements are hurried and ravenous, Joel’s are soft and sweet; he strokes your back lightly, broad, calloused palm feeling heavenly as it tracks over your bare skin. 
You lower the zipper on his jeans and he lifts his hips, allowing you to drag the coarse fabric down his thighs. It takes you a second after you’ve maneuvered his pants out of your way to realize you’re face to face with the stiff outline of Joel’s cock, straining against the black fabric of his boxers. Your mouth goes chalky when you see the small dot of moisture near his fat tip, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning over and pressing a kiss to the spot. 
Your groan is in unison with his, and Joel must be growing impatient because his hand snakes up to gently cradle your neck. “Don’t be a tease, pretty girl,” he scolds tenderly, and the endearment causes you to look up at him through your lashes. What you find in his eyes is something lusty, full of desire and want and… pure, unadulterated awe. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing. 
“Wasn’t bein’ a tease,” you say, bending back down to mouth at his cock over his boxers, and he moans when you lave at his swollen tip through his underwear. 
“Nah, jus’ so needy ya can’t even wait ‘til I get my cock out t’put your mouth on it, hm?” You lick up his dick and feel it twitch, his thigh tensing underneath the hand you have braced there. You smirk, looking up at him as you dip your pointer fingers under the band of his underwear, hooking your digits and arching your eyebrow.
He acquiesces with a lazy smile, lifting his hips, and you slowly drag the tight fabric of his boxers down to where his pants pool around his knees. However, you don’t immediately look at Joel’s length after fully freeing it from the confines of his clothes. You’re not sure why a cool feeling of nervous anticipation washes over you, but you find yourself stalling, rubbing your thumb over the inside of his knee and kissing his thigh gently. 
Joel, the attentive man he is, picks up on your nerves immediately. He massages the area where your spine meets your skull, and you practically melt at the feeling. “Y’okay?” he says softly, and you nod, turning your head to rest on his thigh. Your eyes avoid his dick, jumping up to land on his face. His expression is so kind, so compassionate and observant, that it makes you ache. 
“‘m fine. More than fine, ‘m good. Great.” He nods, stroking your cheek before he frowns. 
“Y’know, ‘f ya aren’t feelin’ it anymore, we can stop. We don’t have’ta-”
“S’not that,” you mutter, and he stops talking, waiting for you to go on. You inhale deeply, looking for the courage to speak your thoughts into the charged atmosphere of the truck. “I jus’... don’t want ya to regret this.” He flashes you a perplexed look before tipping his head back and laughing. Your cheeks blaze with heat, embarrassment creeping in to tamper the fire of want, and you bury your face into Joel’s thigh to hide. 
“Baby,” he says, and when you don’t respond, he grabs your jaw and makes you turn to him. “Baby. Look at me.” You stare, lip twisted in your teeth, and you can’t help but feel small under the weight of his gaze. He angles your chin down then, and you finally let your eyes fall, taking in the cock you’ve tried to conjure in your imagination while your fingers were stuffed in your pussy more times than you can count. 
In a word, Joel Miller’s dick is pretty. Thick and long and tan. Veiny and girthy, easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. His tip, which is a few shades darker than every other part of his length, is an angry red, weeping precome from the little slit at the top. The thick weight of him bobs up and sits at attention against his belly, resting against him obediently. Your mouth pools with saliva at the sight of it. 
Through the cotton in your ears, you can just barely make out when Joel says, “You tell me, honey. ‘s that look like regret t’you?” You swallow thickly and shake your head. 
“N-no,” you stutter, sitting up slightly. You admire the way pearly beads of precome trail down his length and subconsciously lick your lips. 
“No.” You can feel his stare on the side of your face, but you can’t focus on anything except the cock in front of you that has you drooling while your cunt begs to be filled. “Want this, sweet girl, jus’ as bad as you, and that ain’t gonna change tomorrow or the day after or next week. I want this,” he says, and he says it with such confidence and surety that you have no choice but to believe him. You nod, almost in a trance, before bending over and pressing a chaste kiss to his fat head. 
He must not have been expecting that response from you because at the contact of your lips against his hard member, his head falls back against the seat and he groans, the sound drawing out when you start to press soft kitten licks to his slit. 
“That’s it, honey – fuck, feels good.” You preen under his praise, smirking as you spread your lips to wrap around his tip. He hisses through his teeth, and the noise is all you need to start slowly working him down your throat. He’s so big, and even just the head of his cock has your jaw straining slightly.
You know that there’s no way you’ll be able to take him fully in your mouth, that you’ll have to use one, if not both hands to stroke the rest of his long, thick dick as you focus your attention on the head. But that doesn’t stop you from trying. 
You pull off of him quickly, and he responds with a disappointed little grunt, mouth turned down in a depressing little frown. That is, until he watches you spit into your hand and place your palm around his base, stroking him slowly. A lopsided smile replaces his previous expression and when you twist your fist at the same time your mouth latches back onto his cock, he can’t help but jerk his hips. Joel’s thrust makes his tip kiss the back of your throat and it takes you by surprise, making you gag.
You watch his eyes go wide in worry as he immediately murmurs, “‘m sorry, baby,” his voice utterly wrecked. You lick from the space your fist occupies and swirl your tongue over him a few times, looking into his eyes as you catch your breath. 
“S’okay, Joel,” you purr, lips against him as his cock twitches at the low cadence of your voice. “I can handle it, I won’t break.” And then you’re right back to easing him down your throat. Drool dribbles from your mouth as you work him in your fist, stroking and twisting and pulling while your tongue focuses on the sensitive area you’ve discovered just under his head. 
The cab of the truck fills with the melody of your slick mouth sucking Joel off, punctuated by the sweet sounds falling from his lips. Joel isn’t a particularly talkative person, but you’re incredibly happy to find that all that changed when your head was bobbing up and down his length. 
“Good girl, perfect fuckin’ girl,” he grits out, tightening his hand into a fist and slamming it against his window a few times as he struggles to keep his hips stationary. You hum around him, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to thread into your hair to encourage him to move. A throaty groan rips through him as he realizes what you’re asking, and he thrusts lightly into your mouth. 
You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper than he had been just a minute ago, and the feeling of being so utterly full of him makes you whine, shuffling slightly to relieve the pressure building at the apex of your thighs. 
“Y’like that, sweetheart? Like when I fuck your pretty face?” The utter filth he’s spewing at you makes you gasp and whimper, and he laughs almost smugly at your reaction to his words. “Yeahhh, you like that. Go on, baby, touch yourself while you suck my cock.” You don’t have to be told twice, snaking your hand down to rub frantically at your aching clit while he slowly, gently jerks his hips into the tight, warm, wet vice of your mouth. 
You feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm in no time, seeing as how you were already thoroughly worked up from your little display at the restaurant and everything that’s transpired in Joel’s truck since. Actually, if you’re being honest, you’ve been soaking into your panties since that stunt you pulled in your room before you even made it to dinner. 
You feel stuffed to the brim, Joel’s cock hitting a spot in your throat over and over that has tears of pleasure dripping down your cheeks to combine with your spit lathering his cock. He brushes his big thumb over the path a tear careens down, brushing away the wetness as he drags his hand down to cradle your throat. 
“Doin’ real good for me, doin’ perfect.” He squeezes lightly around your neck and curses. “Shit, darlin’, I can feel my cock right here.” He taps your throat and you whine, eyes rolling back as you rut desperately against your fingers. You’re so, so close, and you can tell that Joel is too by the way his tempered pace is growing more erratic, his shallow thrusts less controlled. The noises dripping from his lips to meet your ears are gruffer now too, words he’s failing to string into sentences as they're cut off by expletives and needy moans. 
Joel looses a low, gravelly groan that signals he’s mere moments from reaching his peak, and you hear him choke out, “Where do ya want it, baby?’ just as the pull of pleasure burning in your tummy goes taut. You don’t answer, opting instead to simply pull off of him and seat your open mouth at the head of his cock, sticking your tongue out and looking up into his face. Joel smirks as you continue jerking him off with the hand not paying attention to your clit, but his smile falls into a slack-jawed look of lust as his balls pull tight and he comes.
The thick ropes of warm cum spurting over your tongue and decorating the inside of your mouth are just what you need to push you into your own climax; your legs shake and you let a high-pitched sound ring through the truck cab as your cunt clenches hard around nothing, wetness seeping from your underwear and coating the insides of your thighs. 
Despite your own orgasm, you make sure to catch every last drop of Joel’s spend, holding it on your tongue for him to see. The space goes silent for a few seconds, both of you basking in your respective post-coital bliss as your eyes scan over each other. Your gaze hangs heavy as he takes in your sweaty, disheveled form languidly before landing back on your face. Joel shoots you an endearing, sweet look, before brushing the hair plastered to your sweaty forehead away from your face. 
“Go on, honey. Swallow it f’me.” You do as Joel says, swallowing the sticky fluid he’s shot down your throat, and you find the salty, tangy taste surprisingly pleasant. You clean the corners of your mouth where some of his seed landed with your thumb and, with his eyes on you, push the digit into your mouth, sucking it dry. The dirty act makes Joel shake his head and chuckle, and once you’ve finished, you open your mouth and tip your head back to show him that you’ve taken care of his mess. 
You both sit there for a while, just staring at each other with your head resting on his thigh as he strokes your cheek. You’d almost call the gesture loving, but you don’t want to be presumptuous. After a decent amount of time has passed and the stars have come to bear witness to your dirty deed, you turn your head and catch the pad of Joel’s thumb in a soft kiss. 
“Oughta get back,” you say, reluctantly breaking the silence. He nods, and you stay like that for a second longer before sitting back in your seat. Joel starts the truck and traverses down the lonely path toward the main road. As he pulls back out onto the black asphalt, likely still warm from the summer sun that’s long disappeared, you can’t help but wonder if this moment will forever belong to the space between that long stretch of prairie grass and corn stalks. 
You can’t help but hope that it won’t.
***
As Joel nears your development, you pull down the sun visor on your side and flip open the mirror. Your mouth falls open and a little gasp slips at the sight that meets your eyes. Joel must hear it because his gaze flickers in your direction. 
“Somethin’ the matter?” he asks, worry lacing your tone, and you almost giggle at his concern. 
“I’m a fuckin’ mess,” you groan, raking your fingers through the hair that Joel’s fingers knotted. Your lips are swollen and chapped, your eyelids heavy with the look of lust, and there’s a track of mascara streaking down your cheek from your tears. To put it bluntly, you look like you’ve been freshly fucked. 
Joel looks at you again and barks out a laugh as he turns down your street; he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park so that he can turn to you more fully. You’re frantically trying to will the bright blush on your cheeks indicative of sex from your cheeks as you wipe furiously at the now-dried trail of black mascara. 
“Waterproof” my ass. 
Your head snaps in Joel’s direction when you hear him chuckle again, your eyes wide with a plea for help. He shrugs, smirking slightly. “Better get inside ‘fore someone sees ya, or else they’ll know what we’ve been up to.” 
You know he’s teasing, but his words make you deflate slightly nonetheless as they feel a little bit like he’s kicking you out; however, you steel yourself quickly. There was nothing for him to kick you out of, and it was silly of you to think otherwise. Sure, you’d just sucked his dick and made him come down your throat. And, yeah, maybe he’d almost gotten caught with his hand between your legs at dinner. But that didn’t mean anything. 
Just two adults engaging in a casual hookup. That’s all.
Even as you try and convince yourself of this, your reasoning, and consequently your attitude, falls flat. You grunt with thinly veiled annoyance as you grab the door handle and make to leave. “Could’ve jus’ parked at your house, I woulda walked,” you mutter, irritation simmering in your gut as you go to open the door, but then a strong hand reaches across your lap to wrap around your hand on the handle and pull it back shut.
When you try again and are met with the same result, you huff and turn, coming face to face with Joel. His brows are furrowed and the corner of his plush lips are turned down. You hate yourself for wanting to kiss him right now, even though he’s actively telling you to go while not allowing you to do so. 
“What?” you bite out, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to. He squeezes your hand, and you feel tension you didn’t realize was making your body go rigid ease. 
“What’s a’matter, baby?” The pet name makes you blush, and now you feel even more stupid. 
“Nothin’,” you lie. Rather convincingly too, you think proudly, until Joel cocks an eyebrow and informs you just how shoddy your facade is. 
“Know ya too well t’believe that bullshit. Tell me what’s wrong.” You huff, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You drop your hands into your lap, eyes falling to watch your thumbs twiddle. You don’t think you can look into those all-consuming brown eyes right now. 
“Jus’... I dunno, bein’ dumb. Thought you were kickin’ me out or somethin’.” You shrug indifferently, and he sits there for a second, watching you fidget nervously. You see him scan your surroundings out of the corner of your eye, making sure no prying eyes are around, and before you can even react, Joel’s gripping the back of your neck and turning your head to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. You melt into him, sighing in relief at the feeling of his tongue licking the seam of your mouth.
You stay like that, greedily tasting each other. Or, in Joel’s case, greedily tasting the lingering flavor of himself in your mouth. He pulls back suddenly, chest heaving and eyes dark, and you lick your lips and grin at him. 
“I’ll see ya soon, baby,” he says with conviction, and you nod slowly. But apparently your response isn’t convincing enough for him, because he pulls you in closer and says against your lips slowly, “I will see you soon.” 
“Okay,” you breathe into his mouth, and he kisses you chastely once, twice before opening your door and tapping your thigh. 
“Now get.” You smile, hopping out of his car, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire way to your front door. Even when you’ve disappeared into your house, you can feel the brand of his gaze on your flesh. 
You watch through the window as he sits in his truck for another minute, and then he reverses down your driveway and pulls into the one next door, hopping out of his truck and leisurely heading up to his front door. You watch him walk into his house, and only then do you stop watching.
You’re not entirely sure how you get up to your bedroom, but you’re almost able to believe that you floated there like an apparition, head airy and thoughts bordering on dream-like. When you collapse on your bed, your mind is on the feel of Joel’s tongue in your mouth, of his cock thrusting into your throat, of what that same tongue and those same thrusts might feel like in your pussy. 
What you’re not thinking about is how utterly fucked you are. You’d told yourself once that you wouldn’t be able to do a thing like this with Joel because you’d never have your fill, always wanting more after that first initial taste of him. But you’d gone against your better judgment tonight, and now that little crack of yearning had split into a yawning chasm of want; greedy and unsatiated and hungry. 
Hungry for one thing, one person, one man: Joel Miller.
Yeah, you were fucked
___________________________________________________________
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months
Text
Enchanted
James Potter x muggle fem!reader
Summary: Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London.
Genre: Fluff
prequel to my fic Timeless
pt.2 Sweeter Than Fiction
Warnings: swearing, mentions of injury, intoxication
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Remus has warned him him has always had a flair for the dramatics.
"I mean, why did I even like her?" James slurs loudly as he slams his whiskey glass onto the counter, white foam spilling over his hand, and he curses.
Remus rests his hand on James's arm to shush him and he glances over at Sirius with a concerned expression for their friend. "Prongs, you promised you were okay," his eyebrows quirk and, crossing his arms, he looks at James with a saddened expression.
James's eyes just narrow and he nods his head furiously, "I am okay," He insists, "I just don't understand why – "
When James flings out his arms in exasperation, his hand accidentally collides with your hip as you pass by. All the glasses you had been balancing on your tray suddenly shatter to the ground with a loud crash. Sirius and Remus hurry to stand as the spilled alcohol barely misses their trousers.
"Oh my, I'm so sorry," You say, clearly embarrassed as you kneel down and frantically pick up the shards of glass as everyone turns to stare.
"Woah," James cries as he jumps up. Just as he starts to warn you not to hurt yourself, you cut your palm and hiss in pain. James is immediately kneeling next to you and, with a movement unusually delicate for someone so drunk, moves to hold your wrist in his hand, "Shit, that looks nasty." He mutters.
You look at him, "Yeah, it hurts like a bitch," you say plainly and stand. James drops your wrist. Sirius hands you a napkin and you press it to the wound.
James stands next to you now and you look at all three of them. "I'm sorry again, I hope I didn't spill any on you. Shit, I'm gonna lose my job for this," you look away, your hair falling in front of your eyes as you groan.
"No. Don't worry. We aren't hurt or anything, right guys?" James exclaims, again a little too aware for someone so drunk and slaps Sirius on his back.
Sirius frowns and sends him a knowing look but smiles at you reassuringly as Remus nods. "So, you really shouldn't get in trouble and," James adds, "Hey, I don't think you're okay…" His train of thought seems interrupted by the amount of blood on the napkin.
You glance down, eyes widening, "Oh, shit yeah," you tilt your head up, feeling heat rise in your cheeks, and look at them bashfully, "Fuck, ah—sorry I keep cursing. This just hurts a lot. I think I have to clean go it."
James eyebrows crease for a moment as he watches you turn around and quickly walk away, the bloody napkin still pressed to your hand.
"Oh," his eyes light up like a child when you turn around and address them over the loud bar, "Thank you," you say with a smile and while he's unsure why you're thanking him, his stomach fills with a thousand butterflies.
"You're doing it again," Sirius mutters, sipping his drink as he stares at his friend.
"Hmm?" James doesn't tear his eyes away from you until you disappear behind some curtains into a back room.
"You have that look on your face, the one you wear right before you do something stupid," Remus finishes sternly.
James's eyes roll, acting less drunk than he seemed earlier. Almost as if you sobered him up a little.
"Oh please," he lies, "When have I ever done anything stupid?"
* * *
James leans against the brick of the building, a cigarette in his mouth. His cheeks are flushed from the cold air as he looks around. The street is dimly lit and barely anyone is around at this time of night.
He smiles as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth. He had convinced Remus and Sirius to let him have a smoke outside. Something told him you would be out here. James has always been lucky with that sort of thing.
Tonight proves him right because he sees you leave out the backdoor. Your hand seems to be bandaged as you delicately shut the door. You're bundled up in a scarf and a coat that looks a little oversized. James wonders if that means you have a partner. He moves away from the wall and walks over.
"Hi," he clears his throat, making you jump.
You turn around and he can tell you're trying to recognize him in the darkness but then your eyes widen. "Oh, hi!" you exclaim, your voice coming out a little squeaky as you push down your scarf a little. "Can I help you?" you ask him.
James smiles and shakes his head. "I just wanted to apologize," he pauses when he sees your expression shift into confusion, "I'm the one that caused you to slip and hurt yourself. Here?" he adds and holds out his hand to sit on the curb.
He can tell you hesitate to follow him. Understandably. You don't take his hand but you walk with him further away from the building. You sit down and James leans his hands on his knees as he looks at you. "M'name is James. Potter, James Potter."
You laugh, smoothing a hand down your jeans, "You say that like James Bond," you smile but your smile drops when James doesn't look like he understands the reference. You don't mention it. "My name is Y/n Y/l/n, it's nice to meet you, James Potter."
"I hope you don't mind me asking this but you aren't fired are you?"
You shake your head, "Oh, no, thankfully." You look up at him a little bashfully, "I was just more worried than I should have been. I'm not the best at this job."
"Mmm, don't say that. You wouldn't have dropped the tray if I hadn't bumped you," James says reassuringly.
"I'm just clumsy," you chuckle. James smirks a little and tilts his head.
"Do you want to go out tomorrow? I know a good restaurant." He says it so bluntly you can't help but stare at him like he's grown two heads.
"What?"
"I wanna take you out," James pauses, backtracking as his cheeks burn pink, "If you'd like."
Your mind seems to be racing uncontrollably and James feels a little guilty. He doesn't want to pressure you. Could he have misread something? Or maybe he'd just imagined it all.
He stands up and dusts his pants. Usually, James wouldn't be one to up so easily but if he'd learned anything from Lily — persistence isn't the way into someone's heart.
"Wait," you stand up with him, looking into his eyes, "I would love to go out with you." You smile so wide your eyes squint and something in James's chest stirs as he can't help but smile at yours.
You laugh and it's contagious. Then, you walk up to James and rummage through your bag. Once you find your pen you scribble your number onto his palm with difficulty. "This looks much easier in the movies," you mumble with the cap in your mouth. James chuckles, looking at his palm to make sure he can read every number clearly.
"Call me?" you whisper, tucking your pen back into your bag as you look up at James.
"I will," he says, and one day later (he only waited that long because he couldn't figure out how to work the muggle phone) he does.
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hypnos333 · 3 months
Text
My Dear
Alastor x Reader
Synopsis: You had a really bad day with another demon at your job but Alastor fixes that.
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Ink was surrounded you it tends to happen during bad days and today was a really bad day. Black ink drop down your face made as your tears. Until a soft knock was on your door making you whisper a “come in”
Alastor entered with a tray strawberry wine and an apple pie. You sit up on the bed letting him put the tray down on your lap.
“My dear I saw the black ink trailing down to your room so I decided to clean and make up your day” Alastor said with his signature smile. You nodded before wiping the ink off your face.
“I was gonna clean it up” You whispered sadly before Alastor lift up your chin to look at your face more clearly before using his thumb to wipe off your inky tears.
“Don’t cry my love, tell me what’s wrong? I promise you have nothing to worry about my dear” Alastor asked trying to comfort you. He pulled you on his lap looking at your eyes seeing you hold back new tears. He frowned seeing how serious the situation is and has gotten worse.
“Shhh My dear, tell me who hurt you” He said gently rubbing your back.
“There was this guy at the bar and h-he asked me for a tequila sunrise and when I finished his drink. He grabbed my hand insisting I come join him a-and I kept on refusing but I just feel so pressured” You explained but what you didn’t noticed was Alastor vibe turned more darker and he smiled but it was more sinister and Evil.
“I’ll be right back my dear, I’ll have Nifty or Husky look out for you, My dear” Alastor explained as he put you to bed covering you with the black sheets as hum not thinking much of it.
Alastor start glitching out of anger before disappearing towards god knows where While you were tucked away back to your safe place. After hours he came back he was covered in blood and was holding a black box.
“My dear wonderful news I just streamed on my radio show again and I got you a little gift my darling” He said hold the box out to you. Inside of is a heart, a human heart or A demons heart.
“What’s this?” You asked hesitantly as you looked at his happy smile once again
“Well my dear it’s your aggressors heart of course” He answered making you drop the box of the heart out of instincts luckily He catched it.
“Now no one can harm you knowing your mine”
You sigh before grabbing Alastors face pulling him into a loving kiss. “Oh what am I going to do with you my darling” You jokingly say making him chuckle mockingly.
“Thank you my darling” You mumble to him before he kissed you into a deeper kiss.
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divineecelestial · 7 months
Text
Pretty Girl [3] Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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Summary — Eddie thinks he'll actually die if you keep ignoring him. So he's going to make you talk to him. Even if that means climbing through your window.
Word Count — 3.1k
Warnings — graphic depictions of sexual activity, oral sex (fem receiving) dirty talk, Eddie jerks off while eating you out
18+ ONLY
I didn't forget about you sluts.
“I can take you home.” 
You watched as your group of friends slowly disappeared from view, their voices diminishing into silence as the car drove further down the road. The smile faded from your lips as a chilly breeze crashed against you were overcome with the realization that you were alone. Both literally and figuratively. Your friends, something you weren’t even certain you could call them, had forgotten you. No, that wasn’t the right word. Left you must’ve been more accurate because they knew you were there but none of them seemed to even care they left you alone under a yellow streetlamp on an empty road as raindrops dampened your uniform. Yes, left behind was the right term for it. Disregarded and ignored. You glanced down at the brown stains on your white, or what used to be sneakers. Goosebumps rose on your exposed legs as you crossed your arms, trying to preserve as much warmth as you could. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for the journey home as your eyes stung with warm tears.
With reluctance, you peered over your shoulder and sighed shakily. There was a flicker of anger passing through you as you took him in; casually leaning against his van with his adorned hands stuffed inside his pockets. Of course, he was there. He was always there whenever you needed him as far away as possible. You blinked away the dwelling tears and whirled around, ignoring his presence entirely. You didn’t make it very far before you heard his heavy footsteps near you. “Oh, come on. I might be a dick but I’m not gonna let you walk home alone, at night, in the rain.” You wanted to remark that ‘might’ wasn’t accurate. He was a dick. “Especially in your pretty little uniform.” 
You could feel your strands of hair sticking to your skin as you hesitantly faced him. “Oh, so you’re gonna protect me?” You questioned as if the mere idea of him keeping you from everything that goes bump in the night was ridiculous. Because that wasn’t him and that wasn’t how this dynamic worked. “I don’t think so. I’d rather take my chances with whatever is out there.” You said, glancing at the darkness surrounding the town. You knew what was out there. Dealt with everything that could’ve possibly killed you and survived, but here you were, dreading getting inside a car with him.
He loomed closer and your glare hardened as your nostrils flared. God, he couldn’t get over how pretty you looked when you were mad at him. You were finally acknowledging him again with that delicious anger he’d been craving. And for a brief moment, he couldn’t have even bothered to notice your wrath flaming beneath your harsh gaze because you were finally acknowledging him. You were finally looking at him with those damn eyes he swore he could lose himself in and he didn’t seem to care that you were only looking at him because you were on the verge of slapping him across the face.
  Things were different. And this time, this change wasn’t a welcome one and you were desperate for everything to suddenly transform back to ‘normal’. Or as normal as things could get between you two. The weekend arrived and you didn’t want to go anywhere, irrationally worried you were going to see him. Avoiding him like he was contaminated with the plague wasn’t something you were used to. Sure, before this relationship progressed, you didn’t go out of your way to speak with him, but now, you couldn’t even walk in the same hallway without being consumed by embarrassment. 
As ridiculous as this might’ve seemed, the kiss you abruptly pressed against him was strangely intimate. Well, for you it was. Because sex could just be something as simple as people seeking physical pleasure from another person. A simple hook-up. That connection was fiery, consuming, and temporary. You might not have had sex with him, but he allowed you to chase that all-consuming pleasure from him and you felt stupid for thinking he could’ve thought of you as anything other than some sex toy. You kissed him and he rejected you. 
“You don’t mean that.” His smirk was cruel and you were moments from scratching his face until he was unrecognizable. “Come on, pretty girl. I’ll keep my hands to myself and drive with two hands on the wheel.” 
As soon as the words fell from his lips, another breeze moved through the ice-cold air and you shivered. The light rainfall slowly dampened his unruly hair and you knew the downpour was going to drastically change soon. You looked upward at the dark skies and clamoring clouds, silently cursing at them for this. Oh, gosh, this couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t seriously be considering this. Sitting in a small and enclosed space with Eddie Munson for who knows how long after he had practically rejected you was outrageous. You were going to deny the offer when a loud crack echoed throughout town. Thunder. His smile only widened. “Fine. Give me your jacket.” He raised his eyebrows at the sudden demand but complied regardless. That’s how it worked between you both; you demanded and he complied. Most of the time.  In one fluid movement, his jacket was removed and he wordlessly handed it to you. You removed your backpack and cheer bag and roughly smacked it against his chest before walking to his passenger door, decidedly ignoring his groan. He quickened his pace to open the door for you. “If you try any of your shit, I’m jumping out of the car.” You warned.
His jacket was warm and smelled like his cologne and weed. You tightened the fabric around yourself and flicked on the heater. He pulled away from the school’s desolate parking lot and drove away. A minute hadn’t gone by before he opened his mouth. “Why were you at school this late?” He knew why. He had practically memorized your schedule and knew exactly what you were doing most days, but he just wanted to listen to your voice. It had been too long since he had heard your voice directed at him.
You were quiet and didn’t answer immediately. He was going to ask the question again before your voice filled the confines of his car. “Cheer practice.” You answered shortly, gaze remaining outside the window and at the passing blur of colors. “You?” You hesitantly asked. You didn’t know why you bothered asking. You knew what he was doing there. He was cleaning the mess left behind by the Hellfire Club and doing whatever else dungeon masters do. You only knew because the kids were practically attached to him. It’s not like you wanted to know or asked about it before. Of course not.
“Hellfire.” And you must’ve been delusional if you thought Eddie was granting you some kind of mercy and deciding to drive the remainder of the trip in sweet silence. Yes, delusional indeed. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. These past couple of days, you know.” You did know, it was impossible to not notice such an imposing figure in your life like him. Beneath the facade of flippancy and sarcasm, there was the undeniable truth—he was hurt. And this wasn’t an ordinary kind of hurt. This was an ache that throbbed and demanded to be felt, the lifeless thump of a cracked heart before transforming into a sharpness, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Heartache was a disease desperate to be felt. The cure of his was inches away from him, shrouded with his clothes.
“I didn’t notice.” You lied straight through your teeth and he knew you were lying. 
His eyes remained on the road, but his grip on the wheel tightened. “I just wish you would let me explain—”
You breathed in sharply. “There isn’t anything to explain.” Another lie. 
There was another crackle and a flash of light scattered across the sky. “Yes, there is. Just let me—” 
The driveway of your household was steadily approaching and you were already unbuckling your seatbelt, practically tumbling outside as soon as the van stopped moving. “Thank you for the ride.” He watched as you disappeared behind your door, closing it without glancing back. 
Beneath the warmth of your blankets, you readjusted yourself with your eyes closed. Your face was smushed against your pillows, a small sigh escaping you as you squeezed your pillow tighter. The sound of your window opening filled the silent air and your eyes snapped open, hurriedly looking over your shoulder before jolting upright. “Your hair is sticking out everywhere.” A voice said casually. “Cute.” 
The chill from the midnight breeze crashed against you like an icy tidal wave. Across the room, and casually perched on your windowsill, was Eddie. You rubbed the side of your face and groaned, promptly shoving your face back onto your baby pink pillows. You should’ve been worried, frightened even, that he had broken into your room, but the only emotion you could manage was exhaustion. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was muffled as you spoke into the fabric.
This must’ve been a figment of his depraved imagination, a scene plucked from his dreams—you were languidly sprawled across your blankets and wearing nothing but a small nightgown. And that nightgown revealed the softness of your breasts as you slowly faced him, your bare ass peeking beneath the thin fabric. As you pressed your cheek against your palm, finally offering your hazy attention, the breath was stolen from lungs and he subtly latched onto the windowsill to steady himself. “You know, those friends back there didn’t really seem like friends. Just an observation.” He was stalling. He knew he was, but he was desperate for a semblance of normality. 
You breathed in sharply. “Well, you can keep your observations to yourself.” 
It was silent for a beat. “You wanna hear another observation?” He didn’t care if you didn’t.
You yawned, blinking slowly. “Not really, but I’m sure you're going to share anyway.”
He smiled, thoroughly enjoying the annoyance searing your voice. “I think you like being around me because you don’t have to pretend. You can be your mean, stubborn, and bratty self around me. Around them, you have to be The Head Cheerleader.” You weren’t even focusing on the coldness filling the room or even acknowledging that he was inside your room. That hadn’t been processed completely. Yet. “It’s obvious. I don’t know how no one else doesn’t notice.”
Through your sleepy gaze, you narrowed your eyes. “You think you know me, Munson?” 
“No, I do know you.” He answered so surely. “I think you’re forgetting I grew up with you.” That wasn’t something you could ever forget even if you had tried. And you had desperately. “You were my first-ever crush. I was obsessed with you. Still am, by the way.” He casually added. “I grew up watching you. I memorized everything about you. I even watched those damn pep rallies for you. Failed classes so you could be my tutor. I even bribed Mr. Johnson so I could be your partner for the project that let me see those pretty little panties of yours.”
He moved away from the windowsill and loomed closer to the edge of your bed. “So I need you to understand something. You were my first and only crush. You were my first of many wet dreams. You were the only girl who made me nervous and made me feel like some lovesick loser because you looked at me. There were times when I couldn’t fucking function because you smelled so good, said something so damn smart in class, or yelled at Carver for being a dick. I need you to understand I have been and still am, fucking crazy for you and you kissed me.”
He kneeled, his tentative hands softly caressing your thighs before pressing a small kiss on your knee. “I need you to understand that I’m the loser who plays D&D with freshmen, sells weed, and hasn’t had a girlfriend, who fucking watches porn to practice for this exact moment and you’re you.” Another gentle kiss on your other knee. “And, fuck, you’re so perfect. The goddamn prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” A kiss on your thigh. “So damn smart.” Another kiss on your other thigh. “And you’re funny. You challenge me.” His nose nudged the hem of your nightgown as he licked the inside of your thigh. “So I do know you and I know you like me. And that’s something I can’t wrap my head around.”
You shuddered as his breath brushed against your skin, unintentionally wrapping your leg around his shoulder, your calf pressed against his back, pulling him closer. You whispered his name, a plead for something. Anything. Your voice, breathless and desperate, was a siren’s call and he would’ve swam to the depths of the darkest ocean to hear it again and again.
The words uttered from his flushed lips were barely processed as lifted the hem of your nightgown. His eyes rolled to the back of his head before closing them, almost as if he were murmuring a silent prayer, and he took a moment to admire the godly sight before him. Hidden beneath the softness of your nightgown and thighs was something he had only dreamed of. Yeah, of course, he’d seen pussies before. From porn, mind you, but this was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He didn’t understand how you, probably the most perfect woman to ever roam this earth, had just become even better. 
You could feel each slow breath from him as he simply admired. “Do something.” You whispered. Your voice was a soft reminder that he needed to move, do something as you put it. Slowly, his tongue dragged across your pussy and a primal groan escaped his mouth. He pulled away suddenly and you glanced at him curiously. He looked concentrated, brows scrunched together in deep thought. “I-Is something wrong?” 
A moment passed and he shook his head. “I’m just trying not to cum.” He eventually said. 
You threw your head back and laughed, which was stifled by a moan as he shoved his head back between your thighs. His initial movements were experimental, unsure, but as he continued and listened to your sounds, he knew what he was doing. Sort of. “Fuck, yes.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and the moans slipping from your lips were unlike anything you had made when alone. 
This was the exact moment where Eddie decided he was going to marry you in the future. But first he was going to make you cum. 
With his tongue still flicking against your clit, occasionally sucking, he unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock from the confines of his clothes. Your legs shook as he shoved two ringed fingers inside you, slowly pumping you and memorizing every detail of this moment before he gathered the juices of your arousal and jerked himself off. “So fucking wet.” He said, pathetically whining as the pornographic sound of your wetness coated his cock. “I don’t know how I lived this long without tasting you.”
Your thighs pressed against his face as your hand pulled his hair and he promptly decided if he were to die tonight, he would die a happy man. This is where he belonged. Most men wanted to be businessmen, sleep on a bed full of money with dozens of women keeping them company, but he didn’t. His face shoved between your shaking thighs, sucking on your clit as you yanked his hair and moaned his name, was where he belonged. “Please don’t stop.” You pleaded. And as much as Eddie loved hearing you yell at him, he decided this was how he wanted to hear you from now on. "Yes, yes, yes. Don't stop."
“Wouldn’t dream of it, my pretty girl.” God, him and that nickname were going to be the death of you. 
“I-I’m gonna—” Your voice cracked and you couldn’t finish your own sentence. 
His hand clutched your thigh with a newfound roughness, pulling your closer, and his other hand squeezed and tugged his leaking cock. “Come on, pretty girl. Come for me.” His pace and movements didn’t change or falter. “Give it to me. Come for me, please. I need it.” 
At that moment, you decided Eddie wasn’t going anywhere. He was never getting rid of you because he ate your pussy like a starving man and made you cum until you saw twinkling stars. “You have the filthiest fucking mouth—”
His wet mouth pressed against yours, his hands coated with your juices and he clutched your cheek. “You taste that?” He asked after pulling away, his lips faintly brushed against yours, teasing. “That’s the taste of the prettiest girl—” He kissed you again and you were barely able to process the softness of his mouth against you before he pulled away again. “Who fucking likes me and can’t deny it.”
And his knees buckled as you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you. “What have you done to me, Eddie Munson?”  You mumbled. He could feel your glittering smile against his and there wasn’t anything more beautiful. 
He saw the gilded walls surrounding your heart and decided he was going to do everything he could to get there. He poked and prodded, tugged and pulled before deciding to take a jackhammer and destroy everything keeping him from you. “My five-year plan of seducing you finally worked.” And he stopped for only a moment, processing the mere fact that this was real. He was really touching you, tasting you, licking your cum off his soaked lips. “I’ve dreamed of this.” His voice was low and below a whisper, his warm breath tickling your face with each word. You could feel the warmth of his lips touching your shoulder, a ghostly caress against your skin.  
You placed a few random pecks on his face. “I really like you, Eddie Munson.” There was vulnerability exuding from you, unlike anything he’d ever seen from you before. 
“So this is what the famous [Y/N] is like behind closed doors.” The pouring rain soaked the floor outside your room, the grey clouds visible through the droplet-covered windows.  "Who would’ve thought my pretty girl was so sweet?” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, smacking his arm. “Shut up.” You laughed. He would've fought (and probably lose) anyone just to hear that beautiful sound again and again.
“That’s not what you were saying earlier. Oh, Eddie, please don’t stop. I’m gonna cum!” He mocked with an obnoxiously high pitched voice.
You decided a another kiss would be the best way to shut him up. “God, you’re so pretty I’m gonna faint.” He mumbled, squeezing your breasts and pinching your hardened nipples. “Can I please fuck you? If I don’t fuck you and cum inside that pretty pussy, I think I’ll die.”
You moaned into his mouth and he gratefully swallowed the sound. “Yeah, come on, Eds, fill me up.”
“Fuck yes.”
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vigilante-3073 · 3 months
Text
Apology Flowers
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky buys you flowers.
TW: Fluff, nervous Bucky, pre-established relationship, lovesick Bucky.
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Bucky stood in front of the flower stand, bright blue eyes running over all the colorful options. He knew that every flower had meaning, but seeing the sheer variety had him lost.
"Can I help you find something, Sir?" The elderly salesperson asked.
Bucky sighed, "Yeah, I could definitely use some help. I'm looking to buy flowers for my girl, but I'm feeling a little lost," He confessed with a small smile.
"Well, what's her favorite color, dear?" The woman asked.
"She really likes pink," Bucky said.
"Then we have a place to start. Is there a special occasion at all?" She asked.
"No, not really. I had to go out of town for a few days on short notice and didn't get to say goodbye before I left," Bucky said.
It wasn't necessarily a lie, he did have to leave town on short notice. The poor woman didn't need to know that he had been traveling the world with Sam Wilson to stop a terrorist group.
"That's very sweet, there's not many men like you around anymore," She mused, scanning the options.
"Don't I know it," Bucky muttered.
"Ah," She said suddenly, locating what she had been looking for.
The woman gathered multiple pink and white flowers together, tilting the top of the assorted bouquet towards Bucky.
"How's that, dear?" She asked, Bucky smiled.
"It's perfect," He said.
....
Bucky made his way down the hallway towards the small apartment that he shared with Y/N.
He took a deep breath as he tucked a hand into his pocket to pull out his keys.
She would be pissed and he knew that he deserved it. Bucky had practically disappeared, no calls or texts to explain anything.
He had only sent one: 'With Sam. Be home soon'
Then his phone died. And that was a few days ago.
Bucky slid his key into the lock before opening the door and stepping into the apartment.
"Doll, you home?" He called.
Y/N appeared around the corner quickly, rushing over to meet him.
"Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick," She said, pressing herself against his chest as she hugged him tightly.
Bucky wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the bouquet.
He felt like he could finally relax for the first time in days. Bucky hadn't realized how much he missed her until she was in his arms again.
"I'm so sorry, doll. Sam and I got caught up in something big and I couldn't just leave him," Bucky said.
She pulled away, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the bruises and cuts littering his skin. He had hoped they would heal more before seeing her again.
"I'm gonna kill him," Y/N muttered.
"I'm okay," Bucky assured, thumb brushing across her hip gently.
Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled, "Bucky, what happened? Why didn't you call me?" She asked.
"My phone died," Bucky stated.
She huffed, "You are so lucky that I love you as much as I do," Y/N said.
"I brought you flowers... I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but I'm really sorry" He said, holding the bouquet up for her to see.
She took the bundle from his hand, smiling softly as she sniffed the petals, "Thank you, Bucky," Y/N said.
She rose up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.
Bucky leaned forward, chasing her lips as she pulled away. He slid his arms around her waist, "Kiss me like you missed me?" He asked.
Y/N's smile widened, hand resting on the side of his neck with her thumb resting along the curve of his jaw as she brought his lips to her's.
Bucky moved his lips against her's, his hands sliding under the material of her t-shirt to rest against her bare skin.
Bucky thanked his lucky stars for whatever he had done right in his life to deserve someone as amazing as her.
He hoped that the small velvet ring box hidden away in the back of his drawer would show just how much he loved her, but that's a story for another time.
Y/N pulled away, "I need to put these flowers in some water. Why don't you hop in the shower and I will meet you there?" She proposed.
"I love you so damn much," He mumbled.
"I love you too. Now go before I change my mind," She smiled.
Bucky pressed another quick kiss to her lips before he released her, making his way down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom.
Bucky Barnes loved his woman.
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straykeedz · 2 months
Note
Can I request a chan smut where you’re dating and he’s a virgin and has never done anything sexual before so you guys take it slow. You start off with giving him a handjob from the back and kissing his neck as well sometimes even light choking to see if he likes it and he becomes a sub and he cums hard. -🦋
thank you so much for your request, hope you like this! 🦋, i added you to the anon list!
part 2, kinda 🤓
cw: chan’s kind of insecure ; talking about virginity ; virgin!bang chan ; kinda sub!bang chan ; soft-dom!reader ; corruption kink (reader) if you reeaaaally squint ; a soft handjob ; cum eating ; ♡
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“Are you sure you don’t mind me wearing your pajamas?” Chan stands there, in the middle of your bedroom, with your pink, fluffy pajama bottoms and an oversized white t-shirt in his hands. 
It’s two a.m. - the two of you fell asleep on your couch while watching a movie together, with your legs entangled under the blanket and Chan’s head on your shoulder. When you eventually woke up, you absolutely refused to let him drive back home this late - he was still pretty sleepy, and it wouldn’t be safe for him to drive in such conditions, so it only made sense he stayed the night at your place. 
The problem is - it’s the first time he sleeps over, and of course he doesn’t have any spare clothes he could possibly wear to sleep. The only option available therefore are - your pink, fluffy pajamas. 
“Of course I don’t mind,” you giggle, kissing the tip of his nose. “You can change here, I’ll just grab my pajamas and go change in the bathroom,” you tell him, and then disappear out of the room. 
You still haven’t slept together - in that way. 
Mainly because with college and work you really don’t have that much free time to spend together, sadly; but also because, well, Chan’s a virgin. You were beyond shocked when he confessed it to you because he’s hot - like, really hot. You couldn’t believe it honestly, how is it possible? You’ve wanted to jump his bones since he asked you out! Not that there’s something wrong with being a virgin, of course, you just found it surprising since he’s attractive and really fucking hot.  
So, to sum it up, you’ve been taking it real slow. The furthest you’ve gone so far is dry humping, and you’ve touched each other over the clothes, but that’s it. You still haven’t seen him naked and neither has he. Chan knows he shouldn’t, but he feels extremely self-conscious about his virginity because he really wants to have sex with you and touch you and experience all of his firsts with you, but what if he’s just… bad at it? What if his lack of experience won’t make it pleasurable or even enjoyable for you? What if his dick is not enough for you - what if it’s too short? Or not thick enough? What if he won’t find your g-spot or your clit? What if, what if, what if… 
Chan shakes his head, beginning to pull his jeans down his legs. Why is he even thinking about this? It’s not like you’re gonna have sex tonight, there’s no point for him to worry about all of this stuff right now. You’re just going to sleep together - like, innocently sleeping, lying next-to-each-other-with-your-eyes-closed sleeping. He chuckles to himself as he puts the pajamas on, feeling kind of silly. 
A knock on your door. Then, your sweet voice. 
“Are you dressed? Can I come in?”
He puts the t-shirt on in a literal second. “Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m decent. You can come in,” he mumbles, cheeks turning pink as he looks at himself in the mirror, dressed in your clothes. 
When you come back inside the room, his breath hitches because how can someone be so beautiful? You’re not wearing any make-up, your hair is not styled and you’re wearing nothing but your oversized pajamas and fluffy socks, but Chan has never felt more in love with you than right now. The thought of you being so comfortable around him to show yourself like this makes his heart swell up in his chest. 
“Wow, they look good on you,” you giggle, looking at him, pointing at the pajama bottoms. “Actually, they look better on you. You should keep ‘em.”
“I, uh… they’re… they’re pretty comfy. And fluffy too.” 
“You’re so cute,” you peck his cheek, “come on, let’s go to bed.”
It’s an innocent thing to say, you intended for it to be innocent, so why is Chan’s heart beating so fast inside his chest as he slips under the covers next to you. It’s the furthest he’s ever been with a woman - with anyone, actually. It’s soft, it’s intimate, it’s… domestic. He kinda wants to do it again and again and again. It feels nice, you laying next to him with your head on his chest, fingers intertwined with his. 
“I’m happy you’re staying the night,” you murmur quietly, circling his waist with your arm. 
He chuckles. “’T’s not like you gave me any choice.”
You giggle as well. “Oops, my bad,” you lift your head to peck his lips. Chan kisses you back, pecking your lips two, three, four, five times until he eventually runs his tongue over your lower lip, deepening the kiss. He cups your cheek with his hand, brushing it using his thumb as you practically suck each other’s faces off until you pull away, leaving him kinda confused. “Let’s… let’s sleep now. Want to cuddle?”
Chan blinks, lips still puffy and swollen from the intense make-out session. “Oh, uhm… yeah, sure. Sure,” he stutters a bit, still kind of overwhelmed by the way your lips felt on his. 
Chan panics as soon as he realizes he’s the big spoon because, well, he has a problem, let’s call it that. 
As soon as you snuggle closer to his body and your ass brushes his cock, you feel it. Chan’s cock. Rock hard. His whole body freezes and his breath hitches - you can clearly hear his heartbeat, so loud in his chest. He’s so fucking embarrassed, he feels mortified. It’s the first time he sleeps at your place and his fucking dick isn’t cooperating. Why isn’t it cooperating? 
Think of something ugly, Chan thinks to himself, hoping to get his cock to soften. It doesn’t. 
It just sits there - perfectly hard, balls kind of tightening from time to time as he swallows the lump in his throat. Maybe you’re already asleep. It’s highly unlikely, he knows it, but hey, you never know. But you’re not, because he feels you fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt. Peachy. You’re gonna think he’s a complete loser and won’t want to sleep with him, like, ever. At the speed of light, he tosses and turns on his other side, thinking it’d be less embarrassing this way, but clearly - he’s not the best at thinking under pressure, let’s face it. 
But then you turn on your side as well, and you’re now the big spoon. “Why’d you move? I was so comfy,” you whisper in the still of the night, and Chan shivers when you place a kiss on his nape, your nose brushes his hair softly. And then you hug him, circling his waist with your arm, and he tenses under your touch, breath hitching. 
“Was… was it because of… this?” With the tip of your fingers, you brush the outline of his clothed cock over the fabric of his pajamas. He’s… very hard. 
Chan nearly chokes. “Oh, God,” he mumbles, burying his face in the pillow out of embarrassment. “‘M sorry.”
“Oh, it’s okay, Channie,” you place a kiss on his shoulder, over his t-shirt. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. God, you’re so cute,” you bite your lip, feeling him twitch under your touch. 
“I, uh… it’s because we, uh, kissed. And also because you were… pressed against me,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry,” he repeats. 
“Don’t be,” you nuzzle his shirt, breathing in his the scent of his skin. “I mean, I could… help, if you want.” 
When you palm and squeeze his erection over his clothes, Chan feels like he could cum from that only. Your touch is delicate and foreign, and it makes him twitch in anticipation. “Yeah, I… I mean, uh, only… only if you want to.”
And of course you want to. 
Leaving soft pecks on Chan’s shoulders and arms, you slowly allow your hand to slip past the waistband of Chan’s pajamas, deciding to tease him over his boxers for a bit before touching him properly. His cock is hard under your touch, and even though you can’t see it, you’re sure it’s a nice cock - at least, it feels nice. It’s not super long - above average, you’d say, but it’s thick and heavy. You really can’t believe you’re having the privilege of being the first person who’s about to wrap their hand around it - besides Chan, naturally. 
“Does it feel nice?” you ask him, cupping his balls, and Chris whimpers, shutting his eyes. 
“Mh, yeah, it… it does,” he whines, breathing faster. “Feels really good.”
You’re touching him over his boxers and he’s squirming already, thinking it can’t possibly get better than this - until it does, until your hand finally slips inside his boxers too and you touch him, wrapping your fingers around his length. His cock is hot and heavy, and it’s twitching, yearning to be stimulated more. 
“Is this better?” You tease, already knowing the answer. 
Chan muffles an embarrassing sound in your pillow when you swipe your thumb over his sensitive tip. “S-So much better. Your hand feels so good. God, ‘m not… ‘m not gonna last long,” he mumbles, embarrassed. He feels as if his whole body was on fire, and he’s pretty sure he’s red in the face, blushing like crazy until it reaches the tips of his ears. 
“Don’t worry about that,” you kiss his bicep, “tonight’s about you. Just relax, baby.”
You entangle your legs together under the covers, starting to move your hand up and down his length slowly, listening carefully to every single sound that escapes his mouth. It’s heavy breaths at first, which then turn into soft, almost inaudible whimpers when you focus on the tip, gripping the pillow tighter as he clenches his teeth. 
You want to make this first experience even more pleasurable for him, though, since it’s his first time receiving a handjob. Chan whines when you remove your hand from his boxers, already missing the warm feeling of your hand on his cock, he’s addicted already. And then, he feels your fingers tap on his mouth. “Spit, baby. Make my fingers wet,” you whisper in his ear, and he shivers. He nods, not fully understanding what’s going on, but he still does what you asked him to do, and before you know it, his saliva is coating your fingers and palm. “Good boy,” you praise him, and Chan blushes even more. 
When you touch him again, it feels entirely different. It’s much wetter, and your hand slides up and down his length effortlessly, which causes Chan to turn into a whimpering mess under your touch. “Oh, God,” he whines with his eyes squeezed shut. With a trembling hand, he hooks his finger in the waistband of his underwear, and pulls it down the curve of his ass, freeing his cock and balls.
“Mhh, much better now, yeah?” You bite on his earlobe, then lick the sensitive spot behind his ear, the one that has his toe curling. “Shh, listen,” you say, allowing him to fully focus on the slick sound your hand is making each time it pumps his hard cock. It’s dirty, it’s obscene, and Chan absolutely loves it. 
“Ba-Baby,” Chan whimpers, his fingernails digging in your mattress as he feels suddenly much closer to finding his release. 
“Been wanting to touch you for so long, Channie,” you confess, kissing his neck from behind. He gets goosebumps. “Was always scared to overstep your boundaries, though. Scared to pressure you into something.”
Chan shakes his head as a no. “You’re not. I want this, I’ve wanted this, too. Was embarrassed, tho,” he admits.
“Why?” 
It’s pretty funny, how you’re having this heartfelt conversation while you’re jerking him off. 
“‘Cause I’m inexperienced. Thought it’d… dunno, turn you off?” 
A mixture of his own spit and pre-cum is dribbling onto his whole shaft, coating his pubic hair and balls as well. It’s incredibly hot, you wish you could lick him clean. Maybe later. 
“Oh, Channie. I’m with you because I like you. I don’t care if you’re inexperienced, my sweet baby.”
“Yeah?” Chan asks, sounding pained. He’s close, so close. 
You nod against his skin. “Yeah, I… I think I might love you, actually.”
“Oh, fuck. Baby, baby… I’m so- close, fuck,” he pants, abdomen clenching, whole body shaking, ready to orgasm. “I might love you, too, baby. Wanna- wanna experience everything with you, baby. Wan’… wan’ you to take my virginity, wan’ you to be my first.” 
“Channie-“ you clench your thighs together. 
“‘M about to fucking cum, baby. ‘M-“
He quickly flips to rest on his back, so that he wouldn’t stain your sheets with his release. Always so thoughtful, your Chan. He even lifts his t-shirt, exposing his abs and torso, and this time watches carefully the movements of your hand on his cock as you pump him faster. 
“Cum for me, Channie.”
With a high-pitched sound, he spills his seed all over himself, hiding his face in his hands as you milk him dry, making sure he gives you everything. He cums so intensely that his body just won’t stop shaking, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. You let go of his limp cock, not wanting to overstimulate him. 
“You were so good to me, Channie,” you murmur, kissing his temple tenderly. “Did you like it?”
Chan takes a deep breath, and then he finally removes his hands from his face and looks at you. “Like it? My soul just left my body, I think,” he chuckles, but he’s still embarrassed. “’t was so good, really.”
“‘M happy you enjoyed it. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
With a towel or some tissues, Chan thinks, and he’s about to turn the light on to grab some from your nightstand when he feels you shift under the covers. Then, your hot tongue on his skin, starting to lick him clean. 
“Oh. Oh.”
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freedomfireflies · 3 months
Text
The One Where 404 Harry Gets Jealous:
Harry is mad.
No, Harry is past mad. He’s furious. Irate. Enraged and incensed and staring a hole right through Levi’s head.
You work to bite back your smug smile as you nod along to your date's story. And you pretend to be fascinated, even though you’re more fascinated by the furious man a few feet away. 
He’s been watching you since the moment you and Levi walked through the door. And he’s been fighting his own urge to come over and interrupt, that much you’re sure of. But he doesn’t have any right. And he knows it.
And you can’t help but make things just a bit harder for him. You grin brightly at Levi’s comments. You laugh loudly at his attempts at jokes. You touch his arm and lean into him as you listen to the live band.
And it’s driving Harry up the wall.
He’s moments away from snapping. Subtly but angrily scooting closer with every passing minute. And you don’t need him to snap. Or cause a scene. But if he’s gonna act like a big fucking baby just because you’re on a date, well…
“Which was fine,” Levi is saying. “I didn’t really care for it anyway, but…I sent it back and we’ll see if they can do better this next time.”
“Sure, sure,” you agree half-heartedly, eyes drifting toward the tall, surly man in glasses now somehow even closer than before. “And, uh…you said you were hoping to stick around for a while before heading back east?”
“Yeah, that’s my plan,” he says. He points to the stage. “I like these guys. They’re good. It’s so funny, I’ve never really thought about—”
“What the fuck is this?”
You and Levi both turn as an unexpected voice loudly intrudes on your conversation.
You find Harry, unsurprisingly, looming over you as he glares down at your poor date.
“Uh, this…is Levi,” you introduce slowly, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress another smirk. “And this is also none of your business.”
Harry frowns. “Bullshit. You said you weren’t going out tonight.”
“No, I said I couldn’t go out tonight,” you correct. “Because I already had plans. With Levi.”
Levi blinks.
Harry snorts. “Right. And how the fuck did you even meet this Levi in the first place?”
“Okay, well, one...you don’t have to talk about him like he’s not here,” you scold. “Don’t be rude—”
“I’m not being rude. You’re being rude.”
“I—” You huff. “How am I being rude when you’re interrupting my date?”
“Because this isn’t a fucking date and you know it.”
You cross your arms. Stubborn. “And how would you know what a date looks like? Much less a date with me?”
“Because you’ve spent half the fucking night staring at me,” he says smugly and you feel your skin warm. “So, I’ll ask you again. What the fuck is this?”
You turn to Levi—poor, innocent Levi—and offer a sheepish smile. “I’m…so sorry. I just need to work this out with him for one second—”
“No, don’t worry about it,” he says kindly and you’ve never felt worse. “I get it. I’ll get us some drinks.”
“Thank you, really,” you sigh and he nods before disappearing into the bar. And once he’s gone, you turn back to the outrageously annoying man in question. “Okay, seriously, you need to leave.”
“Why?” Harry crosses his arms now, too, and nudges his glasses back up. “You don’t actually wanna be alone with him.”
“Says who? You?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know what I want. Because I want nothing more than to be alone with him. In fact, I want to be anywhere you aren’t.”
“Bullshit, Princess. You knew I was gonna be here so you brought him just to piss me off.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Cause you’re fucking annoying.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“And what would bringing him here accomplish, huh? It’s not like you’re jealous or anything, right?”
He leans back and you’ve got him. “Oh, real fucking mature, Tink. Very nice.”
“What? You’re not,” you argue, shrugging one shoulder up. “Why would you be? We’re not exclusive or anything. I mean, maybe if we were, I wouldn’t have to go home with him tonight, but…good thing we’re not.”
He scowls at you. “So that’s why you brought him here? Cause you wanted to play your little fucking game and try to make me jealous?”
“Of course not. That would never work.”
He snorts and looks away and you finally grin.
“Anyway, you should let me get back to it,” you say, beginning to slip past him. “But this was fun—”
He grabs your arm and yanks you back to your spot. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Back to my date,” you repeat pointedly, slipping his fingers from your skin. “Do you mind?”
“Yes.” He dips down and he doesn’t let you go. “I don’t like games. And I don’t like tricks. You don’t get to fucking play me just cause you’re bored.”
“I’m not bored, I’m single,” you retort. “And I have every right to date him if I want—”
“No.”
You blink. “No?”
“No.” He holds you tighter and he’s resolute in the way he speaks. “I don’t want you going out with him.”
“Yeah? And why do you think I care what you want?”
“Because I know you,” he says calmly, and you can hear the devious undertone even beneath the loud music in the bar. “You brought him here because you don’t want to fuck him. You don’t want to waste your time on a man that talks about the fucking stock market and how much he spent at Erewhon. And you wanted me…to remind you of that.”
He’s right. You know he’s right. He knows he’s right. But you’ll be damned if you ever admit it. 
“The only thing you remind me of is disappointment,” you huff. You take your arm back. “Levi is everything you can never be. And maybe it’s time you realize that.”
You attempt to brush past him again but he stops you once more. He tugs you into his body until your chest is brought to his and everything grows quiet inside your head. Your only focus is him, and his mouth, and his familiar smell, and the way he holds you in his arms.
He’s leering at you—pissed beyond belief—and yet you feel so incredibly warm and safe. Pleased.
“Do not go back to him,” he says and a chill rushes down your spine.
“What?”
“Don’t go back to him,” he says again and you want to smile. “Because you aren’t leaving with him. You’re leaving with me. And tomorrow, you aren’t gonna fucking call him and apologize and set up the next date. You’re gonna lose his fucking number. Is that understood?”
You narrow your eyes. “You’re really fucking annoying—”
He yanks you closer until you can almost taste the lips hovering near yours. “I said, is that fucking understood, Princess?”
You’ve never felt this kind of need before. This kind of yearning for another person and this kind of pain radiating between your thighs. But you’re desperate to fix it—desperate to ride this wave of his anger until it washes you both away. 
"Why?" you whisper and you want to kiss him. God, you want to kiss him, but you resist.
"Because," he says. He breathes you in and then he reaches up to brush his thumb along your lip. "Because how can I let you leave when I know you'll be so unsatisfied?"
Your insides feel like they've been set on fire.
"How can I go home when I know he won't take care of you the way I do?" He brushes his nose against yours. "How can I let my pretty, little Tinkerbell spend the night faking her orgasms when I know how perfect she cums when she cums for me?"
Fuck.
"You can hate me all you want," he murmurs. "But I'm good to you. And you fucking know it."
You can't seem to find a response. Can't seem to make your feet work or your lungs work or any part of your brain actually work.
Instead, you simply exhale, "Okay."
And he smiles.
“Good girl,” he mumbles. He leans back and takes his kiss way. "Then let's go."
He leads you out of the bar and toward his bike in the parking lot and you go without question. He hands you the extra helmet—which he also has to help you put on—then pulls you onto the back and secures your arms around his middle. Just like last time.
“Where are we going?” you yell as the engine comes to life.
There’s something cunning in his eye. “Figured it was about time I took you home.”
“Oh…well, my apartment’s all the way on the other side of town,” you tell him. “It’s kind of a long drive.”
He shakes his head. “Not your home,” he says and your heart instantly lodges in your throat.
Shit, shit, shit.
He smiles. “I want to take you to my home.”
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DEDICATED TO MY SWEET BIRTHDAY ANON!!! I HOPE IT'S SOMEWHAT OKAY AND WHAT YOU WERE EXPECTING! I KNOW THERE'S NO SMUT BUT........WE CAN WRITE THAT LATER HEHE
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Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @nuggetdean
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hotchs-big-hands · 2 months
Note
Ada my love you know that boyfriend ‘test’ of handing them your purse/handbag/bag when you go to the bathroom to see how they hold it? Yeah I need your take on our BAU men x that trend pls. Would they hold your purse?
AAAAAAAAA HELLO MY LOVE ROME ITS SO NICE TO SEE YOU IN THE ASKBOX 🥰🥰🥰🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖
gosh I LOVE this trend thing, it's cute. I'll ummmm do smth I've never done before and do some hcs for more than just ayayron, as requested 😳😳😳😳😳 gahdayum
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What the different BAU men would do if asked to hold your bag/purse for you when you go the bathroom.
GN!reader|sfw
Aaron Hotchner
Okay so this man is like. The biggest gentleman ever of course. So when you approach him during a team night out with your bag he takes it without hesitation to your question.
"Of course, it's safe with me."
He is very protective of it, gripping onto it to his chest with one arm and hand whilst the other holds onto his drink as he sips periodically. He doesn't pay any mind when the others eye him curiously, and when you return he smiles slightly and holds out your bag to you.
"Here you go. Don't hesitate to ask me again as well, sweetheart."
He has to admit, he adores the delighted grin you offer in return when you thank him for holding your bag. And he's able to drown out the chuckles of the other members of the team because he's certain he probably looks like a lovesick puppy.
Derek Morgan
Derek raises his brow with a teasing grin as you ask him to hold your bag for you.
"Mind if I take a lil peek?" He jokes, chuckling when you babble at him not to look, panic flashing in your eyes. "Relax, sweets. I'm not gonna look."
Holds it under his muscular arm and stares down anyone who gives him a funny look. He's shameless, plus he's happy you trust him to take care of your stuff.
You return momentarily and look relieved to see him holding it protectively. He smiles and holds it out to you when you're close enough.
"There you go, sweets. Don't worry, I didn't look inside." He winks at you and you lightly shove him, pouting playfully. He loves teasing you.
Spencer Reid
Man's shook when you ask him of all people to hold your bag for a moment.
"Me? I-I mean of course I'll hold it!" He hates that his voice cracked but you don't seem to mind though, smiling sweetly and thanking him before you turn away and disappear to find the restroom.
He is holding onto the bag straps so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. No-one is getting hold of this bag, if it's the last thing he'll ever be sure of. Derek saunters over with a grin and chuckles as he points out how tight his grip is. But even as he feels heat rush to his cheeks, he dutifully holds on tight to your bag.
Your return makes him smile with relief, but he holds on tight to the bag even as you now come to stand face-to-face with him. You hold your hand out and ask for your bag back and he flushes. "R-right yeah, here!" He said quickly and holds the bag out, grip still strong until you take hold of it.
You giggle softly and thank him, and he grins awkwardly as he watches you turn away and head off elsewhere. It's only when he feels Derek's hand lightly land on his shoulder that he refocuses and embarrassment floods his senses. Hopefully, he'll be more confident in himself next time you ask him to hold your bag.
David Rossi
When you timidly approach Dave at the table he's seated at with Aaron and hold out your bag to him, he raises a brow at you when you ask him to hold your bag for you for a moment.
"Hm? You want me to take care of it for you? Of course, tesoro."
He places it on the table in front of him, not without smoothing his hands over the surface slightly because well, he is fond of you after all. Aaron huffs out a quiet snort, raising his brow with a grin at him. Dave shakes his head and waves him off.
You're quick to return with a shy smile, thanking him sweetly for keeping an eye on your bag. He picks up the bag and holds it out to you, making sure you've secured it before he drops his arm. "Anytime, tesoro. I'll look after it for you."
He winks at you and delights in your flustered movements, meeting his eye and as Aaron stands and gives him a pointed look, Dave pulls out a chair next to him and invites you to join him for the evening.
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Lmao this was probably shit but I'm not too confident writing for other characters 😭😭 I hope people enjoyed tho regardless KSSKSK
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dilfl0v3rss · 9 months
Text
mouthful
“please…please no more i can’t take it” you whimpered, your hands shielding your aching pussy from the lips of your hungry girlfriend. her dark grey eyes instantly shot up toward your face, giving you a deadly stare as her hands tightened around the fat of your thighs. “move”
a quiver was immediately brought to your lip as you slowly shook your head no. yelena just smiled, sitting back on her knees before moving towards her dresser. your eyes widened, the defiance in your body quickly disappearing as you moved your hands from your center. “n-no! i moved them…..please baby i moved themmm” you whined, sitting up on your elbows as you watched her turn around.
yelena gave you a small smirk, moving her hands back towards your thighs before pushing them towards your chest. “s’what i thought” she mumbled before getting back to work. her tongue traveled from your entrance to your clit, lightly sucking the bud before swirling her pink muscle all over it. “mmm you gonna cum?” she spoke into your pussy, letting the vibrations aid you to your orgasm.
“y-yea!” you screamed, your hands slowly traveling to her hair as your bottom half bucked against her big hands. she pushed her face deeper into you, licking and sucking rougher as she brought you to your fourth release. “mhmm” she hummed as you shook below her, the feeling of your wet orgasm caressing her chin. “one more mama. gimme one more and i’ll le-” the sound of her phone ringing drew your attention away from her, the sound of her annoyed groan already telling you that she was going to answer it, but you didn’t dare say anything.
your eyes followed her hand, watching it move from your thigh to the smaller device in her pocket. “yo” she mumbled, not taking her face from between your thighs as she continued to give you soft licks on your sensitive bud. by the small sound of the voice coming from the phone you could tell it was her best friend. “m’at the store. hot ashit out here by the way, but what you doing right now?” ymir said, the sound of chip bags moving around booming through the speaker into lena’s ear. a smirk crept onto her face, her other hand leaving your thigh to lift a finger to her pink lips. “shhh” she mouthed before outstretching her tongue to your clit, continuing to eat you out quietly.
“m’eating” she mumbled, grey eyes taking in the silent scream you released as your back arched off the bed. “aight well historia wants you and suge to stop by the house tonight f’some ‘family dinner’ she tryna have. i already called con and them. ion know why she tryna do all this but-” as she spoke, yelena put herself on mute before burying her face deep into your pussy, sloppily eating you out as she crept two long fingers towards your entrance. “o-oh my goddd” you moaned, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head as you felt another orgasm creeping down your spine. “lena m’gonna cum! baby please make me cum”
“ima get you there mama don’t worry, jus stay quiet f’me okay? this is important” yelena lied as she quickly unmuted herself so she could speak. “we’ll be there” she mumbled, letting her friend ramble on about her day as she obliviously wondered around the store. “what you eating man, m’hungry as hell and ion know what to get from this damn store” a smirk crept on your girlfriend’s face as she deepened the stroke of her fingers, curling them upwards to draw a sinful moan from your lips. “is that?”
“m’eating pie. we’ll be right back aight?”
a knowing smirk made its way to ymir’s face as well, her feet immediately stopping their movements as she listened deeper into her phone.
“you two are so disgusting i love it. ima hit you later tho m’finna call historia, think m’craving some pie too”
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k-hotchoisan · 5 months
Note
Omg I need to see 24. Cowgirl with Yunho
And if there is a video with it 👀👀
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23. Cowgirl with Yunho or Cowgirl with Wooyoung
Awww I wish I did have a video but I don’t ~ but point still stands, save a horse, ride a cowboy (yunho)
Heheh enjoy!
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Genres/Warnings: smut, Drabble, riding, cream pies, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size kink, bulge kink
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3
K’s 500 this or that masterlist here!
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You came up with the idea of riding him, and the idea was brought up so casually, as if you were talking about what you had for lunch the day before, because Yunho had food go down the wrong pipe when he heard it. You blinked at him, confused at his confusion. Yunho is a pretty sizable male, and riding him was something you always wanted to try, and mostly because Yunho has never initiated you to ride him.
“Are you sure about that? I really don’t want to hurt you”, Yunho double confirms as he downs a glass of water. You nod. If missionary already had you clawing the sheets and screaming, just fucking imagine how riding him would be like. But of course, you would never say that to your partner.
Yunho rests his head against the pillows that press against the headboard, both hands flat by his sides. He doesn’t really know where to put them. You told him to just relax, but obviously it was a sentiment to yourself. He‘s rock hard and you’re soaking wet, and the both of you naked, might as well go all out. He’s groaning when you’re sucking him off, your doe eyes sending him into a spiral when his cock disappears in your mouth. You pull off when you see him grip the sheets.
“You can grab my hair you know”, you say before engulfing his cock whole again, and Yunho’s pretty hands immediately tangle with your hair, tugging gently as he tries to catch his breath.
“Shit, that’s so fucking good”, Yunho grunts, pushing your head down deeper as his cock hits the back of your throat. He twitches in you and give his cock a couple of bobs before you completely pull out, and Yunho releases your hair as he attempts to catch his breath. You’re slightly more comforted that he’s more lubed up at least. Yunho had fucked you with his fingers before you had him tugging your hair from the blowjob—another comfort.
You don’t know why you’re nervous now that you’re staring right into Yunho’s eyes as you climb onto him to straddle his lap. His hands are on your face, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow okay?” He reminds you and you bite your lip as you nod.
Fuck’s sake, his cock is fucking huge now that you’re just looking down at it comparing to your pussy.
But at the same time, the thought of it just splitting you open just gradually turns your brain into mush.
You squat over his cock, as you slowly push in his tip in, feeling the pressure, yet at the same time, the more you take his cock in, the more fucking amazing it feels—the way your walls are hugging his cock snug and tight.
You look up at him, and your heart pounds even more—Yunho’s half lidded, panting slightly more, his core is tightening as well as his grip on your hips. For a moment, you worry that he’s suddenly faint.
“Are you okay babe? Should I stop?” You ask, with his cock half way in.
Yunho shakes his head immediately, as if desperate. “Fuck, don’t you fucking stop. Please.”
Ah, you get it now. And so you sink in deeper, and he gets even thicker. Your hands claw Yunho’s shoulder the moment his big cock is fully in you, and you gasp.
It’s taking Yunho everything he has not to just fucking cum in you—you’re so tight and warm around him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, Yunho curses, his head sinking into the pillows. His cock is pretty much bulging when he’s inside of you and you’re biting back a cry from how filled you feel. He’s so fucking big. For a moment, the both of you stay still, the only thing you hear are pants from the both of you—well mostly Yunho trying to control his breathing.
“I’m gonna move now”, you try your best to voice out, and Yunho’s grip on your thighs loosen, and he nods through half-lidded eyes.
You begin to grind your hips, and soft moans escape your lips whenever you feel Yunho’s cockhead drag along your walls. Yunho’s breath is ragged, but his hands still finds yours on his shoulder and he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“You’re taking all of me in you so well,” he sighs, kissing the back of your hand. “You feel so fucking amazing, babe.”
Soon enough, you’re lifting your hips and bouncing off his cock, your moans straight up turning into screams from the way Yunho’s impaling you. Yunho places your hands on his shoulders while his own slides down to your hips.
“So deep”, you sigh as you bite your lip, feeling the way his cockhead presses onto your cervix every time he drives his cock right into you. Yunho cups your face and pulls you in gently to plant kisses along your jaw as his hips thrust into you, and fireworks begin to burst behind your eyelids. Euphoria is beginning flood your senses as your abdomen tightens.
Yunho feels the way you’re starting to flutter around his cock, so he keeps up the pace, his eyes darting at the way his cock is pushing a bulge when you’re fully seated on him.
Your fingers are leaving scratches on his shoulders. Yunho strokes your sides, shutting his eyes to fight off the urge to just fucking breed you, and he coaxes you in the softest tone,
“Are you gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby. It feels so good, right?”
And you snap, your orgasm hitting you in waves as your thighs shake violently, your walls squeezing Yunho’s dick as he holds your legs down, making sure you cum on every inch of his cock.
Your eyes roll back and cries pour out of you as you lean forward with your arms wrapped around his neck. Yunho kisses your ear as he strokes your hair from behind, whispering sweet nothings into your ears, encouraging you to release all over his cock.
“Fuck, yes, yes. So fucking good. Oh my god, fuck”, are the words that only leave your lips before Yunho begins lifting you ass up again to fuck you from below and your mind is completely broken from the overstimulation.
Soon, Yunho is groaning and panting himself, desperate to chase his orgasm and he’s slightly more aggressive—biting and licking up your neck while desperately rutting into you until a cry escapes him as he stills in you.
“Cumming babe. Oh fuck”, he sighs, letting his release spurt your walls as his dick twitches after each load.
The both of you stay in that position for awhile before you pull away, taking Yunho’s face into your hands and giving him a peck on his nose, which he returns with a full on kiss.
“I think this might be my favourite position”
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fairycheol · 3 months
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Always An Angel
luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader
cw:fluff, kissing, mentions of injury, teeny tiny angst. death/murder
It had been exactly three days since Luke Castellan had seen you, his girlfriend of three years, around camp.
The first day of your “disappearance” he simply chopped it down to you being busy taking care of the camp infirmary.
By the time day two rolled around, he began to worry, and unfortunately for him the Apollo campers were no help. Delivering cryptic responses every-time Luke asked where you were, practically avoiding his question.
He began to panic, did you leave camp with no goodbye?, were you secretly seeing someone else behind his back? His mind was running a hundred miles an hour.
On day three he took it upon himself to set out looking you. Leaving his campers with Clarisse he marched through every part of camp before arriving at the infirmary.
He hadn’t tried approaching the building earlier because Mr.D had placed a “do not enter” sign on the front.
Oh my gods, had Mr.D killed her?!?
Shaking the crazy thought from his head he finally opened the door to take a peak inside expecting to find a dead body on the ground but to his surprise it was something entirely different.
Sleeping on one of the beds was a 7 year old boy and hunched over asleep in a nearby chair was you, bow and arrow held limply in your hands.
Luke crept forward into the room when he stepped onto an extra creaky floorboard. The sound had succeeded in waking you up with a fright.
As a daughter of Apollo, you were gentle but you were also a fighter. Which would explain why Luke’s shirt was now pinned to the door with an arrow.
Now fully conscious you came to the realization that you’d just shot an arrow… at your boyfriend
“Luke!” you hissed at him
“What the hell is wrong with you?! I could’ve seriously hurt you!” Walking across the room you ripped the arrow off the door and placed it back in your quill.
“I-I was just coming to check on you, I haven’t seen you in three days.” Luke gave you the saddest puppy dog eyes imaginable. Gods was it impossible to get mad at him.
“Aw, you were worried about me?” Luke passed on a smile as you grabbed his face in between your hands,
“Wait no, i’m still mad at you for sneaking up on me!” Taking a step back you let out an angry huff, but the facade had melted almost instantly when Luke pulled you in by the waist and gave you one very very long kiss.
“I’m sorry for scaring you I just need to make sure you were okay. Your campers were pulling every excuse out of the book to get away from me.” Luke explained twisting an eyebrow up in mock suspicion. With a sigh you began to run your hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart race faster with every movement you made.
“I was gonna tell you were I was but he” you pointed at the young boy still fast asleep, “would wake up in tears every-time I tried leaving his side. He didn’t wake up this time cause I asked a daughter of Hypnos to help me get him to sleep comfortably.”
That’s right. The young boy laying in the infirmary had arrived three days ago. He was chased up the hill of camp half blood by a vicious three headed hell hound. When he got to camp he was shaken up and bleeding heavily. The only person able to calm him down was you.
“That doesn’t really explain you being cooped up in here with him.” Luke huffed putting his hands on his waist.
“Yeah well, after I got his stitches done and over with he begged me to stay in here. Said he could still feel the monsters chasing him.” You turn to look at him with such a saddened gaze that had him remembering of your arrival at camp and the night terrors you’d faced yourself.
“You know better than anyone Luke… I couldn’t leave him feeling like he was alone.” He knew exactly what you meant, and he couldn’t even be upset about it.
A pair of warm hands reached up to gently get a hold of your face, turning you to face him. He gave a smile that read a thousand praises.
Luke takes your moment of silence to give you one more kiss, the gesture sets off a million butterflies in your stomach.
“How did I get so lucky with someone like you” Luke brushes a strand of hair from your face, taking a moment to admire you.
His Angel in disguise.
the ending was lowkey rushed cause i didn’t know what to write 😭
hope y’all enjoyed it tho 🫶🏻
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chrisevansonly · 6 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐱’𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the only person matteo loves more than you and charles is his uncle max, and his uncle max might have just given your husband an idea you weren’t so ready to talk about…
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions or anxiety, slight arguments, bit of angst, but also lots of fluff and cute uncle max moments!
𝐚/𝐧: here is chapter 3!! this is the beginning of matteo’s karting journey! i place him to be around 2 here, still too young but this is where it all starts thanks to uncle max and charles! this one isn’t super angsty yet but as we keep going some chapters are gonna get interesting 👀
𝐰𝐜: 1.3k+
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
At the age of two Matteo was already quite the quiet little boy, his preschool teachers always attempted to get him to come out of his shell and interact, but he didn’t really love the idea. At home with you and Charles he was the complete opposite, chatting, laughing, and wanting to play games all day long. You were worried but his paediatrician was sure to quell any worries, simply stating he would grow out of it and he was just a bit more anxious than most kids. 
“Maman play?”
Came his little voice from the living room, he sat around a tower of building blocks and toys cars
“Sure my love, I can come play, papa will be home soon too”
“Papa!!”
You laughed at the toddler’s squeal of excitement, knowing his father was coming home soon and he would have both his parents to play with him. 
“Papa jouer?”
You smiled leaning down to kiss his forehead, a hand smoothing his unruly chocolate brown hair away from his eyes 
“Ou, petit ours, papa jouera”
Matteo giggles before pushing a few toy cars your way, letting you roll them back towards him as he smiled and clapped, truthfully as much as he adored Charles, Matteo was a mommas boy deep down. 
It wasn’t too long after you’d begun to play that you could hear the tell-tale sound of Charles’s Ferrari pulling into the driveway, what you weren’t expecting were two voices instead of one. Matteo got up and went over to the front window, a noise of what you could describe as pure happiness spilling from his lips. 
“Papa! Maxie!”
He turned to smile at you excitedly, a sight that never got old to you at all. You joined him in the window, smiling at your husband and Max Verstappenm aka Uncle Maxie, as they both walked to the door. As soon as it opened Matteo took off in a run towards his father. 
“Matteo ralentit, s’il te plait, bébé, fais attention!” 
His giggles only got louder until he managed to fall to his knees before getting to Charles, both of you waiting for him to whimper or cry from hitting the floor but he only sat back on his butt, frowing up at Charles. 
“Oh, ç ava petit ours?”
“Ouch”
Charles smiled before bending down to pick his baby boy up, kissing his cheek 
“Yeah, ouch Teo…we need to listen to Maman when she says careful right?”
Matteo nodded, his eyes glossing over a little bit, as Max excused himself to come over and say hello to you, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your cheek 
“Hey Max, how are you?”
He smiled 
“Not bad...though not sure you’ll like me in a few minutes”
“What why?”
Charles cleared his throat, shaking his head 
“Nothing amour, don’t worry about it”
“Charles.”
He watched you cross your arms, eyebrow raising just enough letting him know he was treading on thin ice if he continued, only making the dutchman at your side laugh 
“Matteo, want to come with me and see something special?”
Max asked, causing the little Leclerc to turn his gaze to him before he began to nod enthusiastically
“Present?”
Max smiled taking Matteo from Charles 
“Yes, present little bear”
As the two of them disappeared out the front door you looked at your husband, the good mood you were in beginning to dwindle knowing the two F1 drivers had gotten themselves into something, no doubt, not checking with you first.
“Mon amour…”
“Qu’est-ce que tu me caches Charles? Ne mens pas, je ne suis pas d’humeur.”
It was nothing new for you to speak in French, but Charles knew if it came out when you were a little irritated, he had minutes to fix the problem 
“Rien, je vous promets que ce n’est rien de grave ma belle…venez voir.”
You hummed, not impressed at all, and it wasn’t like you were mad at him, because you weren’t. It’s just that there had been talks of karting and knowing Max you had an inkling of what this surprise was. 
“Charles-”
He was quick to take your hands, pulling you to him so he could press a kiss to your lips, his eyes remaining soft 
“Just please, come outside…then be as mad at me as you want”
Sighing softly you agreed, following your husband outside as he held onto your hand tightly, not wanting you to let go, Charles knew there was a huge chance you’d be upset over this but, here’s to hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. As you approached the garage you eyes widened seeing Matteo sitting in his own little go kart, Max cheering as he made fake karting noises, obviously it wasn’t on, for safety reasons of course. Matteo was smiling away, giggling as Max pushed him around a little bit, Charles glancing at you to see just how you felt about this.
“Maman! Kart Maman!”
You nodded walking over and crouching down to look at your little boy, and you would be lying if you said the happiness in his little green eyes didn’t make your heart soar 
“Yes my love, did Uncle Max and your Papa get you a kart?”
He squealed happily, placing his hands on the wheel as you straightened up, looking over at Max 
“So who’s idea was this?”
Both men remained quiet which only made you roll your eyes 
“Someone want to tell me or do I need to play a game of clue?”
“Well you see…it was both of us”
You looked to your husband who had a sheepish smile on his face, nervousness behind his eyes
“Max and I were just attending a meeting and we saw it and well the rest is history, I just thought it would be cute for Matteo to have you know…nothing more”
“Nothing more? Charles he’s going to be wicked on the track with this thing!”
Max was smiling until he noticed your attention become focused on him, then it was his turn to feel nervous, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck 
“When he goes on the track? That’s funny because last time I checked we weren’t talking about Matteo and karting, it wasn’t even up for discussion yet.” 
Charles sighed as he watched you take Matteo out of the kart, holding him to your chest as you placed a kiss to his cheek, staring at the red and gold paint like it would bite you if you got too close to it.
“Max is just teasing baby I promise, I just wanted to get it so he can sit in it and just be around them, it wasn’t to make you upset” 
“I appreciate that, but I thought we said we’d talk about it before you decided to even purchase a kart, Charles he’s two, i’m not even ready to discuss this with you yet…”
You paused walking a little ways from the two drivers before stopping 
“Max I really appreciate what you did with Charles, but next time, speak to me first, Charles you should know better.”
They watched as you walked back towards the house, Matteo frowning and he noticed the distressed look on your face. 
“Maman sad?” he asked softly. 
“No Matteo, Maman isn’t sad, let’s go play inside hmm?”
“Play play!”
Charles watched the two of you disappear into the house before running his hands over his face, clearly not expecting you to be this upset by it, but deep down he knew better, and he should have talked to you about it. He and Max put the kart away before saying goodbye to one another, not before Max went to apologize to you. 
As Max’s Audi pulled away from your family home Charles only hoped he hadn’t overstepped too much, Matteo was still young, he knew that but there was also the hope that he could introduce his little one to the world of racing. Knowing how happy Charles was as a kid to kart and grow up around race cars, he only wanted to share that with his son.
He just hoped he hadn’t messed that dream up by upsetting you. 
ʚlittle karter series tag list
@goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @piastricodedfr @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @goldenalbon @wintfleur
english translations:
Papa jouer? - Papa play?
Ou, petit ours, papa jouera - Yes little bear, papa will play
Matteo ralentit, s’il te plait, bébé, fais attention! - Matteo slow down please, baby be careful!
Oh, ç ava petit ours? - Oh, are you okay little bear?
Mon amour - My love
Qu’est-ce que tu me caches Charles? Ne mens pas, je ne suis pas d’humeur. - What are you hiding from me Charles? Don’t lie to me, i’m not in the mood
Rien, je vous promets que ce n’est rien de grave ma belle…venez voir. - Nothing, I promise that it’s nothing serious beautiful, come see
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d6volution · 6 months
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Egress
Jax/Reader [Fem Reader.]
Explicit sexual content. | Also found on my Ao3
tags: sexual coercion, voyeurism, blow jobs, wall sex.
minors dni.
"Listen, just between us two, I believe ya about the.. exit— thing." Jax spoke behind his hand in hurried and hushed flurry of words, eyes mimicking crescents as he blatantly lied to the newcomer. You. 
Being naive and hopeful, your eyes lit up.
Ragatha noticed the mischievous bunny whispering to you and placed her hands on her hips. "Jax! Don't be mean!" The doll recognized that look in his eye and squinted at him. " Y/N, don't listen to Jax. W-Whatever he's saying to you." She scolds.
"Whaaaat?" He threw up his hands in defense but turned back to wink at you before walking away. 
 You were promised an exit, an actual exit. So why did you feel like you were being lied to? Or maybe tricked..? 
"I.. have to find out , even if it is just a trick.. this all a dream anyways so.. it doesn't matter."
You reassured yourself quietly. Footsteps echoing throughed the large and empty corridor that seemed to be leading to a strange , secluded area in the tent. You certainly don't remember this area during Caine's tour. 
 
"Oh, look. You actually made it." Jax was there, and leaning against a wall. His cheshire grin playing on his face. And his sly eyes seemed to linger on your body too long. "Was startin' to think you got lost." He tilted his head a little. 
"Well.. heh, I made it. So.. where's the exit? Did it happen to be a red door? Or was a different color for you? Did it disappear when you looked at it because—" You were rambling, not even aware of the space between you and him closing. He towered over you and your words died in your throat. 
"You done?" Jax stares down at you, he doesn't seem annoyed. Just amused, he knew exactly what he was planning and your naivety was adorable. "Yeah, yeah I'll tell you about the.. exit. But first you have to do somethin' for me sweetness." 
"Like what..?" 
"I think you know what, doll face." His hands rested on his hips, almost to pull your attention to his lower body. And that it did, your eyes fell to his crotch and you caught a glimpse of his bulge outlining his overalls. "You were talkin' so much earlier what happened, huh?" He teased, eyes following yours as you tried to avoid eye contact. 
"I—I .. didn't think, we could do that here." You finally stuttered out, and yet you felt heat pooling at the pit of your stomach. Even in these digital avatars Jax somehow managed to ooze with charisma and charm. Not to mention that shit eating grin that was oddly attractive. 
"Oh, us either. Don't get me wrong we were surprised to find out about.. this too." He gestured and began moving in closer, you instinctively moved back until your back hit the wall. His hand was placed on the wall beside your head. "You scared or somethin'? Look I won't force ya to do anything, actually I'm gettin' pretty bored." His smile dropped in faux disappointment. 
Words seemed to escape you for a moment as you weighed your options and Jax sighed , seeming to back off due to your hesitation. "Well, I guess you don't care about that exit as much as I thought ya did. See ya kid." And just like that he spun around on his heel and started off in the opposite direction. His faux disappointment returning to a smile only when his back faced you. After all, it was only a matter of time before— 
"Wait!" 
Jax's grin only got bigger, "And here I thought you were gonna chicken out." He chuckled and turned around, "Don't worry new stuff, I'll be.. gentle." More or less.
"Wait , wait! Are we— here? What if someone.. sees?" Your eyes darted around, but fortunately it was silent, and not a soul was in sight. Only the echo of your voices were heard, "Nah. Everyones in the main hall, digital feast remember?" 
"Oh, right—" His hand fell onto your shoulder, it was clear he was becoming impatient. "On your knees toots, we don't exactly have a lotta time before they come lookin' for us so let's get to it, yeah?" You fell to your knees and now being face to face with his crotch made your stomach twist in knots. He was big, and he knew it. Your mind was slowly becoming clouded with lust, a feeling that seemed foreign here quickly flooded back into your senses.
"Heh." Jax watched as your eyes seemed to cloud over, he knew that look better than anyone. So he took the initiative and removed him self from his overalls, his thick cock was heavy his in hand. He moved his hips forward and nudged your cheek with the tip. "Best not to keep me waiting sweetheart," His veiny purple shaft seemed to twitch as your lips brushed against the tip. "Nnh. Best not to tease, either." Your lips swallowed up the head, tongue darting against the tip. Inch by inch you were slowly taking him into your hot mouth.. but he was too big, you were barely around the halfway point and you could feel your gag reflex threatening to trigger. 
"Need some help dollface? I know I said I'd be gentle buuutt.. heh, why would I do that?" His hands were on the back of your head now and he slammed his hips toward. Pulling you closer at the same time and auickly bottoming out in your throat.
"Gghck..!!" Your squirmed and gagged on his cock as it filled your throat, your nose was nuzzling his lower stomach. 
"Just like that... there ya go.." His head tilted back a little as he held you in place. 
You could hardly breathe, but damn it. His sudden man handling made your legs press together in need. 
He pulled back, hooded eyes staring down at you. "Hold tight." He smirked before thrusting his hips back and forth, a lewd noise echoed through the hall as he used your mouth like a toy. Grunting and moaning in pleasure softly, all while keeping eye contact. 
For a moment you glanced past him and swore you saw one of Caine's 'all seeing eyes' up in the corner, stationary and staring exactly in your direction. Surely he wasn't.. watching right? "Eyes up, here." His hand suddenly yanked at your hair, before returning to bobbing your head back and forth. "Look at me when I cum, you can do that can't ya?" He spoke in a breathy voice, clearly getting close. You nodded your head as best you could. 
The look of you with drool rolling down your chin and mouthful of his cock was enough to send him over the edge, he held your head in place as he grinded against your face. Ropes of cum filling your mouth.
Desperately you tapped his leg, unable to hold it all in your mouth without nearly choking. He finally back off and slipped out of your mouth with a pop. "Ah-ah." His finger tipped your jaw close and head back a little, "Swallow." 
And you did. 
Even though he seemed nonchalant, standing with his arms crossed he... was still hard. And your core was aching after that, you could feel your garb sticking to your cunt uncomfortably. "Jax.. I.." 
He knew it was coming, he could see it from a mile away. The look in your eye and the way you squirmed was telling enough, "Thought you didn't wanna do this out in the open toots. We should head out, towards the 'exit' you know. This could be your only chance." He taunted, "I.. I know but..! Please can we.. you just.. I.." He couldn't leave you high and dry it wasn't fair. 
"Can I what? Fuck you? You got all hot and bothered after suckin me off sweetness?" He said in a low voice, taking full advantage of your horny state, "Let me hear you say it." 
"I.. want you inside of me, Jax." 
"Heh, and who am I to say no that? Stand up," He demanded and his usually playful voice seemed to drop an octave at the end there. 
You stood up and his hands immediately lifted you from your underarms, holding you up against the wall,  "Wrap those pretty legs around me doll, don't be shy." While in the process of wrapping your legs around him, he reached down to push aside your under clothes and nudge his fat tip at your entrance. and when he was balanced enough he held you up by the plush of your thighs.. angled just right agsinst your core.
"Looks like it'll be a tight fit. But you can take it right?" It wasn't really a question, because his hips began to push forward and the tip bullied its way past your walls, "Hha.. its.. big.. Jax—" 
"I gotcha, relaaxx.. look at that, the way you're, nngh.. sucking me in.. startin' to think this pussy was made me for me." He sighed, and jutted his hips forward forcing a few more inches inside before finally slamming his hips forward and fully bottoming out. You yelped and held him tighter, insides clenching army's him desperately. 
"Sh, sh— you can take it." He coos and moves his hips around while buried so deeply inside of you, nudging at places at that made your head spin. "Please.. move Jax, need to feel you.." You whined and he chuckled in you ear, his grip on your thighs tightening. Finally his hips started to move, in a slow pace at first but he clearly couldn't hold back. 
*Slap, slap, slap.* Your skin colliding echoed in the halls, and the embarrassing sound made you hyper aware of your surroundings for a moment, you held onto to Jax while he pounded into you but your eyes looked past him again. Just for a moment. 
Caine's eyes.. there were three of them now! 
Your core tightened around him at the thought of being watched. Unfortunately for you Jax was a little too aware of your eyes when they weren't on him. Not to mention how tight you just got. 
Without stopping he spun around, holding you and faced the opposite way now, "No wonder you got so tight just now," He laughed looking at the floating eyes in amusement. "You really are somethin'..  get off to be watched." And here he thought this couldn't get any better.  
"No.. nnh.. that's not..!" He slowed his thrusting, then stopped all together. "Oh yeah? Ya gonna keep lyin to me, how about we just stop here— wouldn't want the man himself to see us .. right~?" He cooed and you cursed silently. "T.. That's not fair Jax! Please.." Your cunt clenched around him in need, and he was close to giving in but not yet..
"Then let's hear it, you wanna put on a show don't ya?" His thrusts were slow, tantalizing.. fuck he was doing this on purpose. "Y.. Yes.." You mutteted under your breathe, "Louder." 
"Yes yes!!" 
"See, was that so hard?" And just like that he picked up the pace , thrusting up into you like a jack hammer while hardly breaking a sweat. But he panted and moaned in your ear all the same, "Ngh.." Your legs were tight around his waist and you felt the knot in your stomach about to come unloose, "Yeah, there we go cum on my dick..." You thought he couldn't move faster but he did. Balls slapping your ass he fucked you fast and hard.
"J.. Jax! Jax!" you threw your head back in pleasure as your body finally succumbed to his harsh thrusts, walls clamping down on him violently as you came hard. "Nnh.. yeah, that's it.. take it." He muttered as his he came in near sync with you, his warm seed filling up your cunt. "Hha.. I needed that , thanks toots." He said and chuckled lightly, pulling out of your sopping cunt and lowering your trembling body to the ground so you could collect yourself. 
"The exit..Jax.." You panted out.
"Ohh.. riiight that." He spoke while adjusting his clothes. "I lied." 
"But, you won't hold it against me though, will ya?" 
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vigilante-3073 · 3 months
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My Love Mine All Mine
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Slow dancing with Bucky in the aftermath of one of Tony's parties.
TW: Fluff, slow dancing, drinking.
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The charity gala Tony had thrown in Avengers tower was slowly winding to a close. Most of the people had gone home, leaving only a few stragglers at the bar, huddled around the pool table or sitting in the various seating areas. Bucky had taken up residence on the couch in the far corner of the room. Some of the party-goers were still wary about Bucky joining the Avengers and tended to give him a wide berth.
The hushed conversations and nervous looks being thrown his way made Bucky want to disappear. He knew that there would always be people in the world who only saw him as the Winter Soldier. Bucky thought he would be used to it by now, but it never seemed to get any easier.
The feeling of being watched like a rabid animal whenever he moved weighed heavily on him. When Sam and Steve moved over to one of the pool tables, Bucky decided to settle himself in a corner where he would be least likely to draw attention.
He had been sitting on the couch by himself for most of the night, hands folded in his lap as he watched the people around him silently. Steve had come to check on him a few times, but Bucky had waved him off and sent him back to the party.
Bucky wished he was anywhere else, but Steve wanted him to come and he didn't want to let his friend down. Bucky looked up as Y/N made her way over to him with two drinks and a soft smile.
"Mind if I sit?" Y/N asked, Bucky nodded.
She sat down beside him with a sigh, crossing her legs and holding out one of the glasses to him, "You looked thirsty," She said.
"Thanks, doll," He said, taking the glass from her hand.
"Are you okay? I feel like I haven't seen you at all tonight," She asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Bucky shrugged, looking down at the glass in his hand, "Just not in the party mood, I guess," He stated.
"We can go if you want, things are starting to wind down anyway," She offered.
"It's alright, there's a couple over there who've been watching me like I'm gonna fly off the handle at any second. It's better if I just stay here," Bucky said.
"I'm sorry, Bucky. I didn't know," She said softly.
"It's fine. They're not doing any harm," He said, taking a sip of the drink she had brought him. He was pleasantly suprised to find that it was his favorite whiskey.
"They're making you uncomfortable in your home and that's not fair," Y/N said. Her bright eyes quickly finding the couple that looked over at Buckey nervously every few seconds.
"Sweetheart, don't worry about it, I'm fine," Bucky assured, hand resting on her knee and pulling her attention back to him.
"I just- I wish they knew you like we do," Y/N said, resting her hand over his.
"That's a sweet thing to say, doll," Bucky said.
A new song started playing through the speaker systems, a bit slower than the rest as the party was coming to a close.
Y/N gasped softly, "I love this one... Will you dance with me, Buck?" She asked.
His cheeks flushed, looking around the room warily, "I'm flattered, doll, but I don't know," He sighed.
"Just right here, you don't even have to go far," She assured, setting her drink on the table.
"Alright, I'll dance with you," He agreed, placing his drink down beside her's.
Y/N stood up, pulling Bucky along with her as they stepped away from the table. Bucky held her hand in his as his metal hand rested on her waist lightly.
He guided them in a few steps before pulling away and spinning her with a smile. Bucky pulled her back in, hand sliding around the curve of her waist to rest on the small of her back.
Y/N rested her head down on his chest as they swayed, humming along to the music as they moved together.
Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead gently, "Thank you for saving my night, doll," He mumbled.
She smiled, "You're welcome, Bucky," Y/N said.
...
Steve and Sam watched the pair dance with knowing smiles on their faces, "How long do you think it'll take him to tell her how he feels?" Sam asked.
Steve sighed, "Knowing Buck, centuries," He said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Seriously? Wasn't he some kinda ladies man back in the day?" Sam questioned.
Steve nodded, "He was, but he's different now and she's different," Steve said, shifting the beer bottle in his grasp.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, turning his head towards the supersoldier.
"Bucky definitely flirted back in the day, but I don't think he ever looked at any of them the way he looks at her," Steve replied.
Sam turned his head towards Bucky and Y/N, watching him laugh at something she said while they swayed together.
"He's got it bad for her," Sam stated, Steve nodded.
"What are we talking about over here, boys?" Natasha asked, leaning up against the wall beside Steve.
"The lovebirds," Sam said, tilting his head in the direction of Bucky and Y/N.
"Wanda and I have been trying to get them together for almost a year, but nothing has worked yet," She sighed, crossing her arms.
"Wanna combine forces?" Sam asked.
"Is that a serious proposal, Wilson?" Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes.
Sam nodded, "Hell yeah, I'm always down to play matchmaker," He said.
"Or you could always just leave them be and let them work it out themselves," Steve suggested.
"We'll work on her, you deal with Bucky?" Natasha proposed, completely dismissing Steve's attempt to dissuade them.
"Deal," Sam replied.
"I'll tell Wanda," Natasha said, walking off to try and locate the witch.
"Sometimes I ask myself why I even try to stop these things from happening," Steve sighed.
"Isn't that your job? You're like the fun police," Sam questioned, taking a drink from his glass.
Steve shot him an offended look, "I am not the fun police. I can be fun. I just think meddling in other people's lives is juvenile and unnecessary," Steve said.
"Whatever you say," Sam smiled, patting Steve on the shoulder before making his way over to the bar.
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