#*whew* this one got a bit longer than my usual

[glowingbadger]

Guarantee y'all didn't expect Shane to be my next target lmao but I've started a new sdv game and he's just such a sweet man and I want nice things for him. As the kids say- poor little meow meow

CW for a brief alcoholism mention

And damn Reader-Chan is a lot more forward in this than I usually write them lol but that's kinda necessary with a guy like Shane tbh.

Shane (SDV) x GN/AFAB Reader

A roll in the hay

NSFW 18+

Shane nudges open the door of your chicken coop with a bucket of fresh water in one hand and a hay bale balanced on his shoulder with the other.  You look up from where you’d been securing a new hinge on the smaller rolling door, and smile at the sight of him.  Truth be told, you’ve been looking at him a lot lately.  The healthy flush and subtle sheen of sweat on his skin pair nicely with the worn-in jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing to help you work.  His posture is straighter these days, and it draws your eyes up to strong shoulders that you hadn’t noticed were so broad until recently.  You’ve noticed other things, too- that he shaves more often, though by late afternoon he’s regained that five-o-clock shadow you’d always thought was strangely handsome on him.  That he positively glows and smiles in a way that brings creases to the corners of his eyes when he talks about Jas, or all the progress he and Marnie have made with the animals.  That he spends less time at the Saloon and more visiting you.

“Over here good?” he asks, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Hm?  Oh- yeah, that corner’s perfect, thanks,” you straighten up and brush off the front of your shirt and shorts, with a brief ‘whew!’  Then, you take a look around the newly-immaculate coop with your hands planted proudly on your hips. 

“Man, this place is looking as nice as the day Robin built it.  I really appreciate your help today, Shane.” you smile, catching the way he fidgets with the pocket knife in his hand as he bends to cut the bale of hay loose.

“Nah, it’s no big deal.”

“Well it is to me.  Afterall, I’ve got assistance from the Valley’s foremost chicken husbandry expert.” you’re sure to add a note of grandeur to the title.

“‘Foremost expert?’  C’mon,” he says with a short laugh.  In a practiced motion, he cleanly cuts the ropes around the hay and pulls them free, adding, “You give me way too much credit.” 

“And you give yourself no credit,” you reply, crossing your arms in a faux-pout as he rises and turns to you, “So I have to give you enough for the both of us.” 

He sighs, but he can’t seem to help the way the corner of his mouth curls into a grin.  With his dark brown eyes cast low, he tries to act like he’s focusing really hard on closing up his knife and storing it back in his pocket. 

“Well, y’know,” he mumbles, “I’m… happy to help with anything you need, just ask.  I’d like to be more reliable- at least for Aunt Marnie and Jas, and, uh… for you.”

Your smile softens, and you step closer to him, but before you can speak, he adds,

“Sorry, that must’ve sounded weird.  I- I’m gonna get this hay taken care of.” 

You almost laugh- he’s just too sweet, but you can’t risk making him feel more self-conscious.  So, stealing just a moment longer to watch him grab the nearby rake and start work in the corner, you decide to give him a bit of space and head into the house for some water. 

Shane has just finished arranging the fresh hay in a pile in the corner of the coop by the time you come back with water bottles and towels for you both.  You toss one of each to him with a nod, which he lurches back a step to catch. 

“Thanks,” he says with a heavy exhale.  He sounds exhausted from the day’s work, but pleasantly so, and you smile as you watch him wipe his face and hands clean with the towel.  Truly, it had been a huge help to have him around to help with a few things you’d been putting off, though you suppose he’s used to this kind of work.  The chickens are content to mill around in the fields outside until you finished, and two people had made for surprisingly light work all things told, so you feel you both have earned the chance to catch your breath and relax.  

Shane stretches out his arms, one and then the other, and you note for the third or fourth time that day that he actually has some impressive strength hidden on that physique of his.  You’d only recently started to take note, but it makes sense; carrying around product crates at Joja every day for so long- and now at Pierre's -not to mention the work he does to help Marnie with her own chickens, it follows that he’d have built up some muscle under his soft exterior.  Looking at him once again causes a familiar flutter in your stomach, and you smile to yourself.

He takes a swig of water, then glances over at you.

“Something on my face?”

You shrug.

“No, sorry,” you make your way towards the hay piled up in the corner and plop down onto the floor, then lie back against it, reclining comfortably with your hands behind your head and legs crossed out in front of you.  Shane follows your lead, careful to keep a respectful distance as he settles on straw beside you.  

“I was actually wondering,” you turn on your side towards him, closing half of that distance, “What suddenly inspired you to come help me out today?  Like I said, I appreciate it, you’ve been a huge help- but I figured you’d want to relax on a day off.” 

His eyes scan your face for a moment, then he looks blankly back up at the ceiling.

“Well you know, you’ve done a lot for me.  Been there for me, listened to me ramble about stupid stuff, and, uh… just figured I’d try to do something for you.” 

You smile warmly at him, but he goes on,

“And, well…” he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, “Truth is, It’s also… been one of those days, actually.  When I start feeling like… hey, a drink or two, what’s the harm?  And I guess- if it were actually one or two, that would be fine, but I know myself.” His expression darkens, and he sighs again, heavier this time. 

“So you needed something to take your mind off of it,” you say.

“Basically, yeah,” he turns back to you wearing a wry smile, “Sorry to make you babysit me.  I guess that’s pretty lame, huh.” 

“Not at all,” you shift closer to him, “I’m really happy that you trust me enough to come to me with this.  Besides, isn’t this a huge step forward?  Reaching out and doing something productive instead of falling back on bad habits?”

“I… I guess so.” he almost looks unsure of whether he can allow himself to smile at this or not, and his eyes shy from yours. 

“Shane,” you’re lying closer to him now, your bodies in that strange space where you can feel one another without touching, “I want you to know that I’m really, really proud of you.” 

His eyes flicker down for a moment, you think towards your mouth, and his face is visibly pink. 

“Man.  How do you always know exactly what to say?  It’s… totally unfair.” 

When you bring a hand gently to his cheek and lean closer, he seems to freeze at first, until he leans towards you at the last moment before your lips meet.  Shane’s are soft, his kiss slow and incredibly tender- though tentative still.  His hand rests over yours, but gently, as though he’s not yet sure whether he should touch you.  When your tongue grazes his lower lip, he gives a breathy moan that you only barely hear, and briefly, you part from the kiss.  You rest your forehead against his, and he whispers your name with audible disbelief.  He’s trembling just a little.  His hand reverently brushes your hair from your face. 

Without a word, you kiss him again, harder this time.  He can’t hold back a low groan, and the sound squeezes around your heart and warms your body.  You only break from him for a moment to sling your leg over his hips, straddling his lap and pressing yourself to him.  At last, he wraps those strong arms around you, holding you close as your tongues tease one another and your nails dig down his chest from atop his clothes.  Your pulse is pounding, and you can feel from his chest that Shane’s is too.  Yet when your hands run down his torso to ease his shirt upward, he halts, breathless.

“Y/N, wait- you… you don’t have to do this.” 

You feel his touch abandon you.  When you look curiously down at him, he’s doing his best to appear stoic. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” his eyes dart away from you, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do and everything, but… it wouldn’t feel right to go this far.  Just to, y’know, cheer me up or whatever.” 

Your heart aches as his words sink in.

“Shane,” your tone is gently admonishing, “Is it really that hard for you to believe that I like you?” 

He takes a breath, his face burning red.

“Well, uh… ki- kinda…” 

Wordlessly, you take his hands in yours and guide them to your waist.  He looks up at you, surprised, confused, and eager despite himself.  Then, you guide his touch along your sides- slowly, so he can feel each inch of your body as it passes under his palms.  When his hands reach your breasts, you encourage him, pressing his touch more firmly to you, squeezing soft flesh until you feel his cock, hot and hard between your thighs, throb conspicuously in response.  

“Shit, sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologize.” 

You grind your hips down onto him, rutting your warmth against his erection and wishing dearly that there wasn’t so much damned fabric between you and him.  He looks gorgeous like this- flush-faced, muscles tensed, watching you with rapt attention as you encourage him to touch you as he likes.  At last, it seems he no longer needs direct guidance; his hands cup and massage your breasts, firm but never rough or forceful.  Now and then, he lets his hips shift against yours, creating that wonderful friction between you.  You lean down and kiss him again, deeply and firmly, willing your feelings to reach him.  You know that words and platitudes would do nothing for a man like Shane.  You’re determined to show him how earnestly you want him. 

Once again, your fingertips play at the bottom hem of his t-shirt, slowly pulling it upward.  When your lips part from his, he’s softly panting, his breath hot and eyes hazy.  You linger near enough that your lips brush his when you speak,

“Please, Shane?” 

He nods, and you give him enough space to tug the shirt over his head.  Clumsily, he shoves the shirt beneath him to avoid scratching his back against the hay.  You think for a moment that maybe you should take this to your bedroom- but damn, he just looks too good laid out on the straw beneath you, hair mussed out of place, flushed skin still dewed with the slightest hint of sweat.

You can’t help yourself- you press your body to his and kiss down the column of his neck, stopping to bite here and there, reveling in every mark you gift him along the way.  He groans out your name, hands running along your hips, gripping the swell of your thighs, even bold enough at last to grab onto your ass and pull you against him.  Only after you’ve kissed and bitten and caressed to your heart’s content, dragged your nails down his chest and felt him arch against you, do you finally pause.  

“Wait just one second,” you whisper in the heated air between you.  Then, you get to your feet to undress.  He watches you in a state of restless arousal and lingering disbelief as you strip for him.  You’re tempted to prolong the process and really savor his adoring eyes on you- but you find you’re too eager for what’s to come.  So you remove shorts and flannel and undergarments, leaving yourself in only your work boots and returning to his lap as quickly as you can.  

“Wow…” Shane’s hands run the contours of your body as he takes you in, and you smile down at him.  

“Do you believe that I want you yet?”  Your tone is playful, but the question is at least partly sincere.  

“I dunno,” he can’t tear his eyes from your body, “Seeing you like this honestly makes it even harder to believe.  You’re just- you’re so… wow.  It feels like a dream.  Or like I’ve lost it and this is all in my head.” 

As he speaks, your hands run down his front to undo the button of his pants.  Then, you hold his gaze as you slowly drag down the zipper.  Your touch firm but gentle, you free his rock-solid cock from his boxers and let out a happy little moan at the sight of it.  On the larger side of average length, extremely thick and pleasantly veined, it’s an incredibly tempting sight.  You stroke it once with your hand, then again and again, less tentatively each time.  You enjoy the heft and shape of it, and the way Shane catches his breath at your touch.  He’s sensitive- each brush and caress of your hand, each teasing motion of your fingers, has him blushing and biting back his voice.  You consider prolonging this too, but the raw lust you can see blazing in his eyes despite himself, the way he stammers out your name when you grip him more firmly and precum slickens the head of his member- it’s far too erotic to resist.

You position yourself carefully over him, the head of his cock nestled between your lower lips- but you don’t let him enter you just yet.  Instead, you sway your hips against him, rubbing his entire length against your needy cunt.  He moans aloud, his fingers gripping tight at your thighs, his member twitching.

“Does this feel like a dream?” you say with a grin.

“No, it- it feels good,” he manages, “So damn good…” 

You continue grinding against him, bulging veins and the ridge of his crown all stroking you sinfully with each pass.  Before long, you’re able to angle yourself so your clit rubs against his cockhead as your hips sway, and you let out a pleasured whine that sends a shiver through him.  By now, he’s coated in your arousal, his length glistening with your release.  

“Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

“Nngh, yeah,” he groans, “Fuck, so hot…”

For a moment, you feel his hands at your hips trying to guide you onto him, his body bucking slightly towards you, seeking you out.  You smile and place a brief kiss to his lips, then say,

“You can stop holding back now, Shane.” 

His arm wraps around your midsection, warm and sturdy, and he turns you onto your back.  A few awkward moments pass in a frenzy as he shifts his discarded shirt under you to ensure your comfort, and you fumble a hand to the side to grab the condom from your shorts’ pocket.  He seems surprised that you’d had it on hand, but opens it and rolls it down onto his length regardless. His brow is handsomely furrowed as he guides the tip to your entrance.  You watch him in a blissful haze, arms wrapped loosely around his broad shoulders, and you gasp as he begins to push into you.  

“Ohh..!” 

Each inch of his thick cock stretches you wonderfully as he thrusts forward, and your head tilts back, your toes curl.  Once inside of you, he hooks an arm under one of your knees, holding your legs spread open as he fills you.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined…” 

Your face warms at the thought that he’d fantasized about this- perhaps even pleasured himself to the thought of you.  You’ll have to pursue that train of thought later- right now, you can’t think of anything but how damn good it feels to finally have him.  To feel his body start to move in tandem with yours, massaging the bulging contours of his cock into you.  To see him looking at you like you’re some unearthly beauty.  

You pull Shane down to you and kiss him, your tongue sliding into his mouth and coaxing him further.  With a groan, he drives his hips forward, stuffing you full of him until you’ve taken him to the base of his throbbing member.  Gasping and whimpering blissfully into his mouth, your nails rake along his strong shoulders and into his hair.  Somewhere in the back of your pleasure-dazed mind, it occurs to you that if anyone happened to stop by the farm today, they’d easily hear your cries through the flimsy walls of the chicken coop.  You quickly decide that you don’t care; in this moment, nothing is more important than showing Shane how you feel about him.  He needs to know that he’s cared for, wanted, desired.  

He pulls away from your kiss, and on instinct, you tug him back down to you with your arms around his neck.  At first, he relents, relaxing back into your embrace and kissing you over and over while he bucks into you at a steady pace.  Eventually, however, he decisively straightens his back to kneel over you, his thrusts slowing but never ceasing- you’re not sure he could bring himself to stop rubbing himself against your clenching inner walls.  Just when you’re about to question him, he brings a hand between your legs, his thumb fumbling a bit clumsily at first until he strokes across your stiffened clit.  

“Ohh… fuck, right there..!” 

“Like this?”

“Yeah- ohh, yes, just like that!”

Shane takes your direction well- a bit unsure at first, the moment he finds the right pressure, the right pace, the right angle, he memorizes your preference.  Your legs wrap around his midsection, pulling him close until he’s sheathed deeply in you while his fingers tease your clit.  His free hand grips at your thigh as he watches you squirming and arching beneath him.  He’s entranced.

“S’that good?”

You nod, biting at your lower lip.

“So good, Shane… c-close- I’m gonna..!  Mmmh!” 

“Fuck-” he exhales, his hips bucking more forcefully into you, “Let me feel it.  Please, Y/N, I- I wanna feel you cum..!” 

Your thighs are trembling, your cunt squeezing tight around him.  Eyes hazy, you manage to meet his adoring gaze as you inch closer and closer to the edge.  Your hands scramble to grab onto anything, and only find the hay and his shirt beneath you.  He’s massaging your tender clit just right, his cock stretching you perfectly.  Shane is determined to satisfy you- his focus is relentless, reverent affection openly shining in his eyes.  Soon, gasping his name, your eyes roll back as you’re swallowed in a wave of mind-numbing pleasure.  And it seems bringing you to this blissful release breaks through to something in him.  

Before you’ve even fully recovered from the aftershocks of your orgasm, he lowers himself to you and wraps an arm around your waist.  His cock draws out from you nearly to the tip, then slams back in, forcing a desperate cry from your lips.  The next thrust is every bit as forceful, and you’re certain he’d be pushing you away from him if he weren’t holding you so close.  Shane maintains this pace, fucking into you with long, powerful strokes of his cock that never become fast enough to numb you to the sensation.  Your limbs feel weak, your head fuzzy and thoughts scrambled.

Shane’s lips find the crook of your neck, spoiling you with deep, erotic kisses.  When he marks you, it’s not the precious, playful little love-bites you left him; his marks are dark bruises, his teeth pressing to you until just before the pain becomes too much and leaving you branded with his lust.  Your nails scrape across his back, and in the moment, neither of you even notice.  Swollen red lines left as souvenirs will be a lasting reminder of your shared passions. 

“So tight… nngh, fuck-” he grunts your name against your skin, “Dunno… how much more of this I can take…”

“It’s okay, Shane,” you say softly between gasping moans, “I- I want it..!  Please-!” 

His kiss presses you down against the bed of hay.  His hands run up your sides, pulling you back against his thrusts, ensuring that the head of his cock hits deep with each push.  Then, panting for breath with his forehead resting on yours, you feel his climax in every part of his body on yours.  You feel the way his cock swells and lurches with each spurt of cum.  The way his hands hold almost painfully tight at your waist.  The way his muscles tense, his frame shivers, his voice stalls between grunting moans.  He’s gorgeous- and you can’t help breathing out his name as your own body feels both boneless and weightless beneath him.  Then at last, you exhale in unison, bodies still tangled together as muscles go slack.

You imagine you look an utter mess.  Stray bits of straw poke through your hair, to say nothing of the sweat shared between your body and Shane’s.  You’re marked up, red in the face and short of breath- and you can’t recall the last time you felt so wonderfully satisfied.  Gazing up at Shane as he regains his bearings- to some measure of success, anyway -he looks about the same as you figure you do.  It’s a cute look on him. 

“Always knew you had that in you somewhere,” you say with a coy, if hazy grin.  

“Did you?” his voice scratches awkwardly in his throat, but he returns your smile, “You’ll have to catch me up, cause apparently you knew where today was going a whole lot better than I did.” 

Perhaps just now remembering that his cock is still inside of you, he carefully pulls out, stifling a groan at that last precious moment of friction.  He removes the filled condom while giving a short, incredulous laugh.

“I mean, you even had this thing on hand.”

“Grabbed it when I went inside for water,” you say with a casual shrug, “Watching you working up a sweat out here got me thinking.” 

Shane repeats that same laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

“You’re a weird one, you know that?”

“And you don’t even know how hot you are,” you reply, unshaken. 

“There you go again,” he huffs out as he collapses onto the hay beside you, “Saying stuff that makes me crazy.”

Without a word needed between you, Shane loops an arm around your waist and pulls you on top of him, and you gladly follow.  Evidently, he no longer cares about the scratching of the straw at his back.  You figure it couldn’t compare with the scratches you’d left to linger there, anyway.

“I’ll keep saying it until you believe it,” you lean in, still smiling as you kiss him once more.  At long last, he kisses you back in a way that feels certain and unafraid.  When you draw away, his hand has come to cradle the side of your face, and he looks at you.  Just looks at you.  You can only imagine what he must be thinking, but when he finally breaks the silence, he says,

“Shit, what time is it?” he glances at the door but can’t seem to get his answer from the light peaking through the cracks, “I promised I’d be home for dinner… Not that- I’m not trying to- I- I wish I could stay, honest,” he stammers, and you laugh.

“Shane, it’s fine, I know it’s important.  Why don’t I walk you back?  I can vouch for you.” 

Those dark eyes search your face for a silent moment.  

“You could… stay and help me whip up some dinner for everyone.  If you wanted.  No pressure,” he quickly adds, “I’m not trying to make this more than it is, unless you want to, but this is fine and I won’t push you or anything, it’s just… Jas always likes it when you come over.” He lets the sentence end lamely, his voice flat. 

You can’t help laughing, and you press a brief but tender kiss to his lips.

“That sounds great, Shane.  But we should probably be wearing more clothes and have less hay in our hair, first.”

[ap41cu5]

Released Tension

Joseph Oda x F! Reader Rating: NSFW smut Genre: Fluff + Smut Word Count: 5351 Short synopsis: The reader and Joseph have been close friends since her recruit as a detective for the KCPD. As a result of how easily Joseph was taking it on Kidman, the new rookie, the reader grew jealous, suspecting that Joseph developed feelings for her. Luckily, they had both been called into a case that took place in a neighboring city. This resulted in the both of them having to share a hotel room together. But low and behold, there's only one bed. A/N: sorry if there's any mistakes in this bc i am too lazy to proof read all 5k+ words of my fics before posting them so i usually just edit them after but pls lmk if theres any errors or anything that sticks out to you and ill fix it :3

1:32 AM, the clock read as the car sped through the pouring rain. You and Joseph had just been ordered to go on a trip to a neighboring city near Krimson to investigate a bank robbery. Normally, these cases don’t take up too much time out of the day. But after so much time had passed of gathering evidence and performing however many arrests, you were both finally done. 

It was nice to be out of the city for once, though. It was just you and Joseph on the case tonight as well. Sebastian was out getting married to Myra, and thankfully the Lieutenant didn’t allow Kidman to accompany the both of you since she was still a rookie. Kidman had been getting on your nerves recently. At first it was just her entitled, lone-wolf attitude, but now it was how easily Joseph was taking it on her. Both you and Sebastian agreed that Kidman was odd, and Joseph seemed to be the only one to disagree. Going as far as to say that the both of you were just being sensitive.

“Whew, what a case. Took far longer than I had expected,” you stretched in your seat, your back cracking.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Joseph replied, adjusting his glasses as he drove.

The sound of the rain splattering against the windows of the car as he cruised through the highway was strangely therapeutic. On top of the light music emitting from the speakers, you could feel your eyelids begin to get heavy. But you had to fight the urge to give into sleep. You could just barely see the hotel in the distance. The warm lighting shone through the windows, creating a very inviting atmosphere. It seemed to glow in the distance– standing out against the night blue sky.

“Feels nice to travel again, at least somewhat. I know we’re only here for the case, but it’s nice to be somewhere else other than Krimson city for once. What do you think, Jojo?” you yawned, the side of your forehead resting against the wall of the car.

You could see him glance at you for a moment before quickly returning his gaze to the road ahead. He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment as he periodically turned on the windshield wipers.

When you first started calling him the nickname ‘Jojo’, he wasn’t sure how to feel at first. He normally hated nicknames, and his first instinct normally would’ve been to correct you, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a nagging sense of warmth and fuzziness every time you’d call him the silly nickname. In a sense, it was a pinnacle for how close the two of you had become upon your recruit. 

“It’s a nice change of scenery, I agree,” Joseph replied as he adjusted his rear view mirror. “I’ll bet Sebastian is having the time of his life right now, seeing as he and Myra just got married.”

You blew a raspberry. “I’ll bet. He would’ve had to get dragged along with us to a whole different city had his wedding not been scheduled for earlier this week. Him and Myra make a good team,” you commented.

“Sebastian deserves that time off. He’s an amazing detective,” Joseph mentioned.

He seemed to contemplate something for a moment.

“Just out of curiosity,” Joseph paused for a moment. “What do you think of the new recruit, Kidman?” You huffed. You had a feeling you knew where this conversation was going.

“I just– I just don’t like her,” you curtly responded.

You could feel your heartbeat pick up at the mention of Kidman. You could just barely hear the frustrated sigh that Joseph let out through the jarring noise of the car engine.

“(First Name), please just be honest with me. You and I both know that’s not true,” Joseph retorted.

He was right. While you weren’t lying that you weren’t exactly fond of her attitude, that wasn't the whole reason you found such distaste towards her.

“I am being honest! Even Sebastian thinks there’s something off about her.” You pouted, “why are you so concerned with what I think of her, anyway?”

“It’s a bit strange, is all. You’ve been acting differently ever since her arrival. You’re my friend and I care about you. You know that,” Joseph replied.

Things like that were the reason that you fell for him. He was just so kind and compassionate, not to mention easy on the eyes.

“You’re not telling me something. I know you’re not,” added Joseph as he switched lanes.

You weren’t sure if you loved or hated that he could always see right through you.

“Can we just– can we just not talk about this right now?” You requested, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

You hated the thought of Joseph having feelings for someone else, let alone Kidman. She was beautiful. Is that all it took for Joseph to fall for her instead of you? Was there something you did, or even the way that you acted, that made him only consider you as a friend? 

Joseph didn’t respond, only sighed as he continued driving. The next few minutes were filled with awkward silence as you tried to keep yourself from crying. The fact that he brought her up showed that he cared about her, right? But why? What did she have that you didn’t? Thoughts like these stirred in your mind for what felt like ages until the lights of the hotel finally came into your peripherals.

“C’mon. We’re here. Careful about the rain. There should be an umbrella in my glove compartment,” Joseph mentioned as he reached over.

Opening his glove compartment, moving around various tools and other miscellaneous objects, he handed you his black portable umbrella.

“You should take it. You drove us all the way here, it’s alright, really,” you insisted, trying to hand the umbrella back to him.

“It’s fine, (First Name). Let’s just head inside,” replied Joseph as he exited the car.

You felt a bit bad. You could tell he was uncomfortable but he was still being considerate of you, even allowing you to take his umbrella even though he drove for over an hour to get the both of you to the hotel.

As you exited his car, grabbing your backpack full of clothes and other necessities, you rushed over to Joseph to get the both of you underneath the umbrella.

“Thanks,” Joseph quietly muttered as you both hurried up the steps to enter the building.

The lavish exterior immediately caught your eye. The decorative plants that coated the exterior of the building created a lush atmosphere. The rain somehow amplified its already extraordinary elegance. 

As the automatic doors opened as you approached, sending a refreshing gust of wind through your hair, the scented air freshener immediately captivated your senses. You could just barely hear the low melodic tones of one of Chopin’s famous pieces amidst the background. The warm lighting on top of the peaceful ambience of the front desk was utterly breathtaking. There were two spiral staircases on either side of the receptionist’s desk, lined with exorbitant looking carpet. 

How expensive was this hotel? You thought to yourself. You could hardly believe that the KCPD was covering your expenses for such a sumptuous stay.

“Woah..” you sighed, taking in the new environment.

“A room for two please, double bed. Should be under the names (First & Last Name), and Joseph Oda,” Joseph said, in his usual respectful tone.

“Alright, you both made it just in time! Our front desk closes in just a few minutes. But you both should be good to go! Here are your room keys,” the receptionist replied, handing Joseph two keycards.

Joseph handed one to you before already making his way up the stairs. You could feel the tension radiating off of him from the moment you asked him to drop the topic regarding Kidman.

The moment you both reached the hotel room, the tension only grew thicker. You racked your brain, trying to think of some sort of conversation starter, when you noticed Joseph was strangely still. He just stood there, frozen at the end of the short hallway when you both entered.

“..Joseph?” You asked, as you carefully approached him from behind.

He was blushing all the way up to his ears. Confused, you averted your gaze to where he was looking. 

One bed?

You felt your lips part as your cheeks grew hot.

What is this, some sick joke? Joseph doesn’t even like me in that way! And now we have to share a bed?

“I– I can hurry back downstairs! There might be a few minutes left! Maybe they haven’t closed yet–” you suggested before Joseph quickly interrupted you.

“It’s fine. They’re probably already closed. I’ll just take the floor,” Joseph replied, completely avoiding your gaze.

His ears were still pink as he began to set his stuff down to prepare his station on the floor.

“No– no, I couldn’t possibly let you do that. It’s alright, Joseph. Let’s just share the bed. I trust you, I know you’re not some weirdo creep,” you reassured him as you leaned onto the wall beside you.

His back is still towards you, “you’re sure that’s alright?” He asked, his voice slightly cracking mid-sentence.

It was strangely cute how embarrassed he was to be sharing a bed with you. You had no idea he was such a prude, but he did it in such a cute way.

“I am. I’m going to change real quick, alright Jojo?” You told him as you entered the bathroom. You could see him stiffly nod as he picked his things back up off the floor. 

The moment you entered the bathroom, he let out a heavy sigh as he felt his shoulders finally relax. He sat down on his side of the bed, rubbing his face as he tried to get his blush to die down.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you, Joseph?” He quietly muttered to himself as he stared down at his shoes for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

After a couple minutes passed, you exited the bathroom in a baggy tee-shirt, which loosely hung down one of your shoulders, and pajama shorts. You had just washed off your makeup, completely bare face with sleepy eyes and messy hair. It took everything in Joseph to pry his eyes away and to not stare at the undoubtedly attractive sight. You looked so.. you. In your rawest form. And that in itself was beautiful.

He could already feel his face begin to heat back up as you threw yourself face down on the other side of the bed. 

“I should– I should go change as well,” Joseph hurriedly excused himself.

Was he.. nervous? Why? He knows I’m not going to make this weird. We’ve been friends for years now. Sure, I kind of, well, I really like him, but I’d never do anything to make him uncomfortable. 

After about 10 minutes, Joseph emerged from the bathroom in a plain white tee shirt and plaid pajama pants. You didn’t take him as the type to enjoy pajama pants, but we learn new things every day. They suited him, though. His arms were more toned than you thought they would be underneath his KCPD uniform. You took a moment to admire his form and how broad his shoulders were. But you valued your dignity and his comfort, so you made sure to only glance at him for a moment. Staring likely would’ve made him even more uncomfortable than he already was.

“I’m going to shut the lights off now, if that’s alright?” Joseph asked, his hand hovering over the light switch.

“Yeah, it’s pretty late,” you agreed, turning onto your back.

Shortly after he shut the lights off, you could hear the sheets rustling beside you as he climbed into bed. The street lights and neighboring buildings barely illuminated through the hotel window, just barely making anything visible.

You turned onto your side to face him. He appeared to be laying on his back, his glasses still on as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Jojo, your glasses,” you reminded him as you carefully removed his glasses from his face.

He didn’t try to stop you, only watched as you gently folded up his glasses and set them on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” he replied, internally begging that you couldn’t see the blush on his face through the darkness of the room.

You both laid in silence for the next few minutes. It seemed neither of you could fall asleep. You could feel him tense again. It was like you could read his thoughts, was he thinking about the whole situation with Kidman again? Although the tension wasn’t nearly as thick as before, it was probably best to get that conversation sorted out now rather than later.

“Hey, so.. about the whole thing with Kidman,” you began, unsure of what to say next.

Pausing for a moment, “what makes how I feel about her such a concern?” You softly asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, like I said earlier: you’ve just been acting differently since she arrived. You just seem more.. distant than usual. I suppose I just don’t understand why you’ve hated Kidman so much since we began working with her. I want to know what’s bothering you, (First Name). I’ve known you for years. That’s what friends do,” Joseph replied, getting up to turn the lights back on.

You sighed, “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you worry. It’s just– ugh,” you stopped yourself.

“What is it?” Joseph pressed as he laid back down into bed.

Your lips pursed.

“Can I just– we’ve been friends for a really long time. And we tell each other everything, right? Would it be alright if I just– if I just asked you something really quickly? Promise you won’t be mad?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Where are you going with this?” He asked, turning to face you.

You broke eye contact, your heart beating out of your chest.

“Do you– do you have feelings for her, or something? Is that what brought this on?” You asked as you tightly gripped the milky white blanket in your hand.

He didn’t even respond for a few seconds. A long, painful few seconds.

“I–I’m sorry that I even– I’m sorry I asked. That was a really personal– and a dumb question, I’m sorry–”

“No, no, don’t be. Why would you– did you really think I had feelings for Kidman?” He asked, part of him unsure if he actually heard you correctly.

“Well, yeah, sorry. You don’t have to answer that–” “(First Name), just stop for a second. To answer your question, I do not, and never have, had feelings towards Kidman. The only reason I thought you and Sebastian were being a bit sensitive was because I’ve seen a couple rookies in the past who had the same attitude as her. Where they think they can do everything without any proper training. That’s all,” Joseph quickly explained, his gaze meeting yours again.

You immediately felt a bit stupid. All those nights you spent thinking, and even crying, under the impression that Joseph had feelings for Kidman was all for nothing, thankfully. A weight immediately felt lifted off of your shoulders.

“Is that what this is all about?” Joseph inquired, seemingly connecting all the dots together. “The way that I treat Kidman?”

Oh God. He figured it out. You thought to yourself as you groaned, covering your beet red expression with your hands. 

“(First Name), you can’t be serious,” Joseph said, a dumbfounded tone in his voice.

“Why?” He inquired, confusion obvious in his tone.

You could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with anxiety. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your breathing grew heavier.

“I–I don’t.. I don’t–” you stammered as you quickly sat up and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

Joseph quickly placed his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright. There’s no pressure. Just take your time,” he comforted you.

His hand was warm, and the sound of his voice was always soothing.

“I– I can’t believe I have to spell this out, given how smart you are. Even Sebastian figured it out but– ugh,” you rambled for a moment. “Promise you won’t hate me after this. Or want to stop talking to me– or–” 

Joseph hushed you, his hand moving upwards to the base of your neck, and his thumb tracing your jawline.

“I could never hate you (First Name). You know that,” he leaned in closer to you.

Your faces were just inches apart, and you could just barely smell what was left of his cologne.

“Joseph.. I..” you gulped, “I’ve had these.. feelings for you. For a really long time. Shortly after we became friends. And I know that you don’t feel the same way, but I guess my anger was misdirected. So I took it out on Kidman, and you, and I started acting really out of line–” You confessed, your voice wobbly and your breath speeding up again.

“(First Name), look at me,” Joseph gently tilted your chin up to face him. “You are the only woman I have had eyes for. Ever since we met. This whole time, I really thought that you only saw me as a good friend. But, telling when people like me has never been a strong suit of mine.” He chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

 “R-really?” You asked, your heart fluttering.

“I.. yeah,” he admitted, looking away.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “Jojo. I thought it was obvious. I mean, not on purpose I mean. But Sebastian figured it out right off the bat.” “...was I seriously the only one who couldn’t see it?” 

You nodded, a smile gracing your features.

“Oh, God. I mean, that’s.. that’s–!” He was quickly cut off by the feeling of your lips pressing against his.

He stood still as a statue for a moment, still processing what had just happened, before he finally melted into the kiss. One of his hands snaked around your waist while the other cupped your cheek. He pulled you in closer as both of your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

You leaned towards him, pushing him back down onto the bed and placing yourself on top of him. You didn’t take him as the submissive type, but he didn’t seem opposed to you straddling him.

“(First Name)- I– I uh.. are you sure that this is– that this is okay?” He asked, his face suddenly turning a bright shade of red.

You could feel his hands slightly tremble against your skin, almost as if he was afraid to touch you. Like you’d break if he even laid the slightest amount of pressure against you.

You leaned down, your noses just barely touching as your hair draped down, just barely grazing the sides of Joseph’s neck.

“I’ve been sure about this for a while now, Joseph,” you whispered into his ear, the feeling of your breath against his neck sending a chill down his spine.

He unconsciously gripped the bedsheets next to him as you cupped his face in one of your hands. Your eyes scanned his face as you slowly tilted your head and pressed your lips against his. You could feel him shakily exhale into the kiss as you licked his bottom lip, asking for an entrance.

He hesitantly opened his mouth as you slowly intertwined your tongue with his. All the time you spent fantasizing about this moment apparently came in handy, and it all seemed to come naturally to you. His nervousness was adorable, and he didn’t know how to kiss back at first. He started to get the hang of it after just a few seconds, earning a soft moan from you.

You could hear him sharply inhale at the sinful noise that had just escaped your lips.

“Just like that, Jojo,” you encouraged him, pulling away for just a second before quickly leaning back down to kiss him.

Your words of praise earned a stifled groan from him as he unconsciously bucked his hips upwards into you. 

“S–sorry, fuck–” Joseph swore as he held your face in his hands as you lined yourself up with him, gently grinding on him as you planted a kiss on his jawline.

“Don’t be,” you softly hushed him as you kissed down his neck.

He stifled a whimper through his teeth as you felt him tightly grip the back of your oversized tee shirt. You could feel him try to stop himself from bucking his hips into you again, so you gladly fulfilled his repressed desires. Lightly pressing yourself down onto his already aching erection, his stomach tightened. The pressure of you grinding on him along with the electric sensation from the kisses you so carefully granted his neck made his head spin. 

You could feel how big he was as you gently pressed yourself against him. The sensation was wonderful, and you could feel a heat shoot throughout your entire body. You couldn’t help the small moans that escaped your lips as you softly exhaled into his mouth.

His hands gripped the sides of your waist as he tried his hardest to be gentle. His breath grew heavy as he slowly began to buck his hips into you, giving into his carnal desires. You let him for a few seconds, until you decided he was enjoying himself a bit too much too fast. So you stopped, completely. You sat up, and raised up your hips so he couldn’t grind on you anymore. You stopped giving him neck kisses as you took a moment to gaze back down at him. His hair was much messier than before, his cheeks burned a bright red, and his lips were swollen from biting them. 

“W-why.. why did you stop?” He whined, letting one of his hands travel south to indulge himself in the pleasure that had just been stolen from him.

You held his wrist in place, softly pinning it against his chest. 

“I will indulge you at my own discretion. You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” You cooed, your face millimeters away from his.

He nodded profusely. “Anything– anything for you, (First Name).” He stammered as he looked back up at you with slightly parted lips.

That response hit you straight in the heat of your core, making your underwear even more soaked than it already was, if that was even possible. It took everything in you not to just start grinding on him again, but you wanted to draw this out and make it as fun as possible. Seeing him like this was truly a sight to behold. Joseph was always so serious and uptight, and seeing him so vulnerable was like no other.

Letting out a shaky breath, your hand slid down from his chest down to his lower stomach, just above his crotch. You bit the inside of your cheek at the large bulge protruding from his pajama pants. Its plaid pattern only exaggerated his length and size. You licked your lips, allowing your hands to shakily make their way to his drawstrings. One hand undid the knot while the other cupped his clothed erection. You dragged your fingers lightly across the surface of his cock, earning a slight whimper from the man beneath you.

You gently pulled down his pajama pants, revealing his dark navy boxers. His erection strained the fabric, his cock dripping with precum. It throbbed under your hands, every touch making his stomach tighten in pleasure. 

“God, fuck– (First Name), I need you. I’ve– I’ve.. I’ve needed you for so long,” Joseph whined, clutching the bedsheets and trying to hold himself back. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to touch you. Both of his hands clutched your hips, as he looked up at you. His eyes pleadingly asking for you to take off your shorts so he could finally feel you.

“Alright, only since you’ve been so good,” you lightly chuckled, pulling your shorts down your thighs.

He marveled at the sight of you in your underwear, your fluids already soaking through your underwear and almost dripping down the side of your leg. His eyes were glued to you, so you took your time slowly pulling your underwear down your thighs. He could feel himself get even harder at the sight of your dripping arousal, his cock twitching.

“You’re.. you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Joseph shifted in his position on the bed, unbelievably aroused. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. He always had such a way with words, at least to you. 

You didn’t even give him a chance to think as you harshly leaned downwards, encapsulating his lips in another passionate kiss. Your back arched as you tried to line up his cock with your entrance, wanting more than anything to finally feel him. 

His hands found their way under your shirt as he quickly pulled it off of you and over your head. He gulped as his eyes traveled your body. He seemed unsure of what to do with his hands, his awkward nature getting the better of him. Gently grabbing his wrist, you placed his hand on one of your breasts, applying the slightest bit of pressure as his palm sunk into the soft mass. 

“Oh, God..” Joseph barely whispered, “you’re so beautiful.”

You gently pulled the bottom of his shirt upwards, looking up at him to ask him to lift his arms up to remove his shirt. He immediately obliged, pulling his shirt off over his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. 

You pressed your heat against his bare erection, coating the surface of his cock with your oozing slick. His eyes rolled back at the warm electric sensation of your wetness pressing against him. He groaned in response, his hands traveling to grab your hips and push you down onto him with significantly more pressure.

You let out a few noises that sent shivers down his spine. His fingers lightly dug into the soft flesh around your hips as he tried to stifle a few whimpers. 

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you reached downwards, trying to line him up with your entrance.

Your slick covered the topside of his cock. You could feel it throb within your grasp as you felt the tip just gently run over your clit.

“I–I don’t have any condoms..” Joseph grumbled through his teeth as he clutched the bedsheets in one of his hands.

“Then you’d better hold it in. If you can handle that,” you muttered as you ever so slightly pushed yourself around him.

He bit his lip as he tried not to make too much noise.

“I don’t.. I don’t know if I can–” 

“Then you’ll be a dear and get me some morning after pills, won’t you?” You requested as you gently rested your forehead against his.

“Oh– oh I’ll do anything for you, (First Name),” Joseph whimpered as he cupped one of your cheeks in his hand, gently pulling your face closer to his for a kiss.

You winced as you tried to push yourself onto him further. His cock stretched your inner walls, and it was dreadfully painful. 

“F-fuck, Joseph..” you whined as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“Start off slow, my love,” Joseph gently cooed as his hand found its way to your crotch.

His middle and ring fingers explored near your entrance. Coating his fingers in your slick as he gently inserted them inside of you, eliciting a moan from you at the feeling. You always loved his hands– how veiny they were along with how long and nimble his fingers were. 

“I– I’ve never done this before.. so I hope that I’m doing this right..” Joseph muttered as his thumb felt around your labia. 

His fingers were warm as he swirled them inside of you. He made waves with his fingers, shooting a pang of pleasure through your core. You couldn’t help but moan as your back arched. You had to grit your teeth to stop from moaning too loud, not wanting the neighboring rooms to hear you.

“My God, you sound so beautiful,” Joseph groaned as one of his other arms tightened around your waist, pushing your torso against him as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you.

He slowly began to feel your walls begin to tighten before he quickly pulled his fingers out of you as they dripped with your slick. 

You bit the inside of your cheek once he pulled out. You were so close to finishing and he knew that.

“Ugh– fuck, Joseph–” you swore as you raised your body up again, encapsulating Joseph in another kiss.

Joseph held onto your hips, helping you line yourself up with him as you finally sunk your body down, his cock sliding into you with relative ease. It still hurt, but far less than before. The feeling of your warm cunt encapsulating his twitching erection made his eyes roll back as he thrust his hips upward into you. His hands gently squeezed your hips as he helped you move up and down on his cock. 

“Y-you take me so perfectly, (First Name),” Joseph barely sputtered out.

The sensation, the look in Joseph’s eyes, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, it was better than you could have ever imagined. Not even in your wildest dreams.

You couldn’t find the words to respond. The feeling of him stretching out your inner walls as you moved up and down on him at such a steady pace jumbled up all of your thoughts into complete nonsense. You moaned with every movement, savoring each and every bit of him. The sound was beyond sinful as you stared into each other’s eyes, admiring each other’s features. 

Every thrust in and out of you filled your entire body with pleasure, the sensation was so grand you couldn’t contain the moans that escaped from your lips. Joseph gently pushed your head downwards, muffling your soft pleas with a kiss.

Seconds passed, the pleasure building up as a knot in your core. It slowly continued to build until it felt like you were about to burst. You were so close until you felt him sharply exhale against your lips. He quickly motioned for you to get off. 

“F-fuck.. I’m– I’m gonna.. I’m gonna cum, (First Name),” Joseph panted as he quickly lifted your hips upwards.

He groaned as he used his hand to continue stroking himself as he came onto his stomach. The white fluid spilling onto himself as he prayed he pulled out in time. 

You both finished at the same time, panting as you looked into each other’s eyes.

Rolling over, you let your weight fall onto the bed next to Joseph. You watched him lay there for a moment before he quickly grabbed a few tissues to start cleaning himself up.

You felt your eyelids grow heavy, closing your eyes and slowly getting sleepier.

He turned, giving you a kiss on the cheek as you felt him clean you up.

“Thank you, Jojo,” you thanked him, your voice laced with drowsiness. 

“Of course,” he replied, pulling the sheets over you.

He grabbed a fresh pair of shorts and a baggy shirt from your backpack as he walked back over to you. He practically dressed you all by himself, while you would raise or lower your arms whenever he would tell you to. 

He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he quickly dressed himself and hopped into bed with you. 

“I love you, (First Name). I’ve loved you for so long,” Joseph whispered into your ear.

“I love you, Joseph,” you whispered back, cuddling up to him.

With your head in his chest and his arms around your waist, you don’t know if you’ve ever fallen asleep quicker. 

[multiversefanfics]

Little Brat

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warning: Smut, Minors DNI!!! Mean Bucky, mentions of hydra Summary: All i’m going to say is. Whew Bucky! A/N: I am going to try and make sure Bucky isn't too mean but we all know how he is.

You and Steve were out on your daily morning run, he challenged you every morning. You were the only one besides Bucky that could keep up with him, just like Sam you got tired of him saying ‘on your left’ so you worked hard behind his back and managed to gain speed, it may have something to do with you also having the super serum in you. After Hydra you stopped training you fell into a deep depression and got ‘lazy’ as they say, Steve pulled you out of your funk and helped you get back to yourself minus Hydra. Your attitude changed a ton since you joined the avengers and had Steve by your side to help you through the dark days. You didn’t realize that while running you kind of slowed up until you heard the familiar voice beside you “On your left” You groaned and started to catch up with Mr. Captain America himself, he was at the end panting waiting for you to meet him “I haven’t said that to you in a while, I miss it” He chuckled elbowing your shoulder a bit, you pushed his arm away trying to catch your breath “I was distracted.” You pushed the loose hair away from your face, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and began walking back to the compound “What’s on your mind, sweetheart.” You groaned rolling your eyes at the same time “You know I hate when you call me that” He smiled down at you and nodded “Yeah, I know. What’s wrong?” You sighed and looked straight ahead “It’s Bucky, he just- He’s been a little meaner than usual, he won’t even look in my direction every time I enter a room he quickly gets up and walks away. I asked him to pass me the ketchup the other day at Sam’s cookout and he basically threw it at me.” Steve sighed as they continued walking “Bucky is just a little tough around the edges, Hydra messed him up.” You groaned removing yourself from Steve “That’s not an excuse anymore and I am tired of people tiptoeing around Bucky like he’s some baby. I went through the same thing Bucky went through okay, I know what Hydra did, I was there.” You took a deep breath before spewing out words you didn’t really mean to say “I am tired of being the only one that Bucky doesn’t get along with, Im tired of everyone including you, making excuses for him. He’s a grown man and should be treated like one.” You could see in Steve’s face that he was no longer looking at you he was looked passed you and you knew exactly who was behind you, and you weren’t afraid to face him. You heard a low growl as you turned around coming face to face with Bucky “If you’re so tired, then leave. No one wants you here anyway.” His eyes were cold, his fists were balled, and the veins in his neck were poking out “Bucky!” Steve barely raised his voice to Bucky but for some reason today was the day. “No, Steve. She’s so tired, go.” You rolled your eyes and brushed passed him even though he never moved an inch from the contact of your shoulders connecting. “You want me to fucking leave? I’ll leave. No one wants me here okay, fuck you Bucky!” You mumbled to yourself as you walked to your room grabbing the closest duffel bag you could find, stuffing a bunch of clothes in it.

You heard a soft knock at your door while you were throwing your clothes in your bag “Go away, Steve!” Your door pushed open and slammed shut, you heard the lock turn which made you turn around as well. You groaned at the sight of Bucky “What do you want?” He responded by pushing your back up against the wall, staring deep into your eyes “I want you.” He growled dangerously close to your ear, and you felt a shiver go down your spine he nibbled on your earlobe a bit “And Doll, I know you want me too.” It was true, you wanted nothing more than to let Bucky have his way with you, it was just something about him that made your lady parts tingle, his eyes were dark and searching for your approval to continue which you subtly gave him, your wrists now pinned above your head with his metal hand, his other hand slowly following the curves down your body until he reached the waistband of your underwear. Again he looked at you for approval. Bucky always wanted your consent, no matter how angry he was, consent was his number one goal tied with making you orgasm first. Bucky slipped his flesh fingers between the folds of your warm, wet core which made you squeal and shudder from his touch "Oh, for someone who hates me, you're sure wet for me." Bucky began making circles on your clit making you squirm under his touch. He loved nothing more than to see your pleading eyes stare at him, and beg him for more "B-Bucky please.." He continued the circles, leaving wet sloppy kisses down your neck, to your chest. "Use your words, Princess." Bucky moaned against your skin sending more chills down your spine. "I want your fingers" And without hesitation he slides two fingers deep inside you, causing you to moan his name loudly, Bucky smirked up at you watching your eyes go shut "Oh, no Doll. Eyes open." You forced your eyes open making sure to look directly at him "That's a good girl." He purred while pumping his fingers a few more times, but by now Bucky was hard and wanted nothing more than to feel you around his throbbing cock. He lifted you up by your thighs, tossing you on the bed, as he walked over he unbuckled his belt with one hand not taking his eyes off the beautiful bundle of nerves that so patiently waited for him. He took a second to admire your body for all that it is. Finally, Bucky had you right where he wanted you. Begging. He lined himself up with your entrance, and he looked up at you once more "Are you sure you want to continue?" You pulled his face down to yours, smashing your lips to his tugging at the hair on the back of his head, just as you were about to gently bite his bottom lip, he slowly but aggressively slides in you, and your mouth falls open, screaming out his name in pure painful pleasure "Fuck Bucky, don't stop please!" He picked up his pace watching your eyes roll to the back of your head "That's it, baby. You take me so well." You began clawing at Bucky's back knowing there will be scratches later but neither of you cared. You felt your body start to shake, you'd never had this type of orgasm before, Bucky put you on cloud 9 and everything soon fell into place, you let out one last moan before you both cum. Bucky now out of breath, collapses on you while still very much inside of you. You run your fingers through his hair trying to catch your breath. "So, Y/N, do you still hate me?

Masterlist

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 8: Inflorescence 💐

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Inflorescence (n.)

the flowering part of a plant or arrangement of flowers on a stalk; the time and process of budding and unfolding flowers.

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So begins Week 2 of Inktober! 🖋️

I am pretty pleased with today’s art, but my posting time probably says it all: Not everything was coming up roses in the making-of process. 😅

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk about it! ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

---------- Whew boy Sparklers; If I seem a little "off" or this description comes out a bit short, that's because (to the surprise of absolutely no one) I got a bit of a later start on this mandala than I'd hoped and it also ended up taking longer than I wanted. 😅 Thus I am now very acutely aware that I have much less time to get this description type and everything cross-posted than I'm really comfortable with.

Granted, this isn't the Cinderella-esque race against Midnight that I've very "used to" from Inktobers' past, but in some small ways that almost makes it worse because I know I've technically been doing much better than usual this year and the further I push that "better" envelope, the more anxious I become. 🫠

So let me stop wasting time rambling about that and get to talking about the art!

I think the main reason this one ended up taking so long is because I hyped it up too much—The idea of getting to draw a mandala made of flowers àla Adult Coloring Book-Style was so enticing that I did that thing us artists tend to do sometimes; I got in my head about it being "good enough" and "right" and all that, as if this is somehow the only opportunity I'll ever have to make a flower mandala so it "needed" to be perfect. 🙄

And, in a strange kind of other sense I think I had a little too much confidence going in because I recently spent quite a bit of time drawing intricate flowers in a similar style for a project you Sparklers haven't seen yet but my Ko-fi Members have. [And hopefully you Sparklers will get to see it soon, too, I've just been too busy to squeeze it in yet!] Mostly, I underestimated my own standards for what translating those flower drawing skills into this mandala format would be like. 😅

I also kind of hurt myself in that I decided I really wanted to get roses in here somewhere on top of trying to make sure I got at least one flower that had more obvious stages of blooming (per today's deifnition), rather than all of them being full-bloom. Naturally, I picked the most difficult option of having the roses be said multi-stage flower. 🙃 I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you Sparklers that have attempted to draw them before that roses are among some of the trickier flowers to draw, particularly in a more doodle-y style like this. I have semi-successfully handled roses before, but I think it's been literal years since the last time I drew any. 🫣 [Maybe not, but I don't feel like I have the time to dig through my posts and check to be sure right now!]

You can see that I did manage some results I'm decently happy with in the end, of course, but I probably spent about half of the total time I worked on this mandala on the roses specifically. 😵‍💫

And then of what was left, probably about half of that was spent on the "final" swirling vines that have different little pink flowers on them. Which is to say I think that was the second most challenge part to draw, even though it's one of the more simple elements present.

I could have stopped before adding those final swirls and it probably would've been fine, but the outer corners just felt so empty compared to all the flower and leaf stuff going on elsewhere, particularly the center-most ring. (That's what I get for adding lines to look more like a vague suggestion of roots below the big leaves!) I wanted to fill just a little more space badly.

If I hadn't felt timing ticking down so strongly, I would've definitely bothered to figure out something a little more involved for those swirls, but it just wasn't meant to be today. I couldn't stop thinking about the time and it seemed like every other false start I has either wasn't right or tested my patience too much.

I very nearly put some more sunflower-esque flowers in the corners instead, but I didn't like the idea of looking myself into a more specific color palette in that way and I didn't like the idea of not being able to either "attach" them to the rest of the mandala or the fact that I couldn't think of a way to make them more vine-like on their own. Therefore, the sunflowers sat this one out. [And besides, they already had a small cameo last week!]

The leaves, fortunately, didn't give me much trouble. Those largest leaves that I put down first where probably the most difficult, but only because they were made using a criss-cross line method I observed in some mandala techniques on Pinterest, rather than other more typical ways I go about drawing leaves. They really weren't too bad, though. And I think they were the right choice because they kind of set up a shape foundation that directed a lot of the rest of the mandala.

Likewise, this may have been the easiest color scheme to decide apart from Day 1 because of the leaves. I set up with that green foundation, pushed it to be a little more teal/aqua, and then went with most pink flowers since that's complimentary, but then a soft blue for the...They're sort of lilies-of-the-valley but maybe not exactly. I think the blue I picked is a touch too dark for that, but since I was very sold on this off-white/cream background, I went with the deeper blue so the color would be more obvious.

I will admit I originally wanted to avoid pink or red roses, but I made the outermost flowers pink first, dared to touch the roses with a bit of a darker pink, and promptly threw that plan out the window. I did try to mix a little purple int here so they weren't a super-traditional rose pink, but I think I overblended it so that effect was mostly lost. 😅 But I did stand firmly behind no-red roses, though. Against many fibers in my Alice-in-Wonderland-loving being, but it felt too stereotypical and like a bad fit for the more aqua-green leaves, which I really didn't want to change at that point.

Yesterday and Day 2 are still gunning for my favorite, but this one isn't super far behind despite the choices I maybe would've handled a bit differently if I'd felt like I could afford more time to puzzle over them. If anything, I think this will be my favorite as a coloring page, if I do end up making coloring pages out of these. [Which yes, is an idea I've been toying with—I think I mentioned it on Day 1? Maybe?]

You Sparklers will have to tell me if that sounds like something worth bothering with. 😉

Let's see...I think that's everything I wanted to mention for today, so I should probably be getting on with that cross-posting now; I'll see you Sparklers tomorrow, hopefully at least a little earlier in the evening... 😅 🤞

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See the Prompt List

Artwork  © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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[bluiex]

WHEW BOY this is a long one hello!! a new anon (me!!) has entered the battle with the need of some motivation for a scarian wip that has been in my docs for ((smirk smirk)) ages. probably . the next logical step was to finish and share my brainrot <3 but I’m terrible at keeping myself motivated so I wanted to share it with u!!! see what you think so far!! im also always open to ideas or criticism!!

basic rundown but it’s really just…romanticizing the idea of exes…getting better after taking some time apart…then awkwardly encountering each other and relearning how to love each other again…with none of the toxic. nasty stuff and just. fluff . also some sillies of course with boatem sharehouse, oblivious pals, and of course. pining scarian (always happy to go more into it if it sounds confusing!!)

=

Surely Scar noticed. He'd be a fool not to recognise his ex. Well. Maybe he was? A fool, that is.

He had done stupider things before - though somehow that was never a dealbreaker for Grian. Oddly enough, he usually found it endearing and definitely had his own faults that Scar greatly admired at the time and…

Hah. Look where that got them.

Grian shook his head to himself — no! No feeling sorry for yourself! It’s just - it’s easy for the mind to wander when the something you’ve been avoiding is suddenly at the bottom of the staircase and…

Scar’s hair had grown longer.

Grian bit his own tongue and his cheeks flushed. He was such an idiot sometimes. His face was feeling warm from…embarrassment. That was it. (He justified to nobody but himself)

It was something they used to do. Cut hair, that is. It was an intimate moment— things were said that could have never been taken back. Trust was exchanged. The backyard, the cicadas, and Scar’s hair, slowly getting shorter as Grian continued to ship at it. Scar insisted they take one of the stools outside so they could bask in the sunlight, and they had laughed when the stool ended up wobbly against the cobblestone and grass. Scar fell on his face a resounding two times.

Though the sun was actually nice. It surely didn’t give him a reason to go shirtless but - Grian inhales a chuckle - stopping himself before it comes out. In the past, he reminded himself.

“Be careful,”

Scar had told him, a laugh bubbled up in his throat. He looked absolutely enamoured with Grian.

“I’m always careful.”

Honestly.

He remembers the feeling of his hands running through Scar's fringe, short and usually styled though came out a little curled after a thorough rinse. Scar squirmed under Grian’s touch, so much so he ended up accidentally giving him a cut with the scissors.

(Scar still had the adorably stupid cat bandaid on the last time he saw the back of his neck, peeling at its ends. Surely, the cut would have healed completely by now.)

Then that irritating smell of conditioner and shampoo stuck in Grian's nostrils for the rest of the day. They weren’t living together; hadn’t quite considered it but bantered and daydreamed about the idea of it, so there was that after-shower smell. It was new to Grian - honey scented. With a dash of citrus.

He doesn’t…constantly think about it, but if honey did give Grian headaches and butterflies, then well…that’s a secret he’d bring to his grave.

Running a hand through his own hair, he couldn’t help but imagine Scar's. His hair back then was shorter than Grian's now, and his own bangs didn't feel quite right — it wasn't the same texture as Scar's. He continues to take another bite of the nutrition bar before feeling the weight of an empty wrapper crumpled up in his hand. Grian stared at it for maybe just a moment - his will to continue moping dying out.

finally picked up some courage to share this….hm don’t know why I was so intimidated

I have to say first, i absolitely ADORE your writing. oh my goodness- it's so amazing! and this idea? I LOVE IT. I'm a real sucker for the whole exes find each other again and fall in love all over again, but this time it's better. cuz theyre not toxic/immature anymore.. so good so good.. I would kiss you on the mouth /p if you finished writing this. The way you write the emotions, and describe the scene? OUGH beautiful, i can feel and see it in my mind

[simulation-machine]

I love literally every single townie from the Realm of Magic game pack, even if the world was waaaay too small and the builds were trash. The Charm family is no different. I have played and replayed and had these characters pop up as important side characters in so many saves. So in this I’ll talk about what I usually do with them, and what I’m doing differently (if anything). If reading lots of words is not your jam, feel free to skip since it’s allll head-canon from here. Minerva: Look, she’s old af. She’s gonna die. I try to give her at least one grandchild before she officially bites it, and the first girl Emilia and Darrel have gets named after her. She’s still gonna die and the first girl will be named for her, but this time she’s going to be an absolute jerk. She’s going to be strict with both of her children, pushing them to do better, and she’s going to be really unimpressed with poor Emilia, who is new to magic and doesn’t come from an illustrious family. Then she dies and everyone is at first like “WHEW okay thank god” but then quickly devolves into aimless chaos without somebody always yelling at them to do stuff.  Gemma: For some reason, even though Darrel is older she gets listed right after her mom. Anyways, Gemma is gay. Before we got werewolves she got with Darling Walsh. Once we got the wolves, she got with Rory Oaklow every time because Rory is hot. They usually just adopt kids once they hit the Adult life stage, but this time they’ll probably have two science babies to see which occult genes win out. They live in Moonwood Mill because Gemma doesn’t like being in the Charm estate after her mom dies. Darrel: Maxis has done few sims dirtier than they did Darrel. And look, I am totally chill with goofy looking sims, I really am. But I’m supposed to believe that he somehow scored cutie-patootie Emilia and looked like that? I mean I guess Emilia isn’t a shallow girl but come on now. So he got a makeover that still kept some crucial features (lips, jawline, chin, cheeks, purple eyes). He even still got a big nose. He just looks less yikes to me because his eyes got switched up and his nose is less wtf. People can fight me on this, that’s fine. He was inspired by my mental image of High Lord of the Spring Court Tamlin from ACOTAR. ANYWAYS. Before I just decided to change his appearance (which I was opposed to do despite haaaaating his face), he used to die after ensuring at least one normal looking kid, usually from overcharge after dueling with L. Faba. That’s all he did. Now that he’s prettier, he gets to live on. Emilia: Initially, she bugged me. Her only flaw is clumsiness and she’s set up to be this try-hard in a fancy family of magical prowess, influence, and wealth. But then I gave her and Darrel a troubled and passionate relationship. After his mother’s death, he got addicted to dueling as a way to cope and was not paying attention to his magical charge. He and Emilia fought over it a bunch. Finally he promised to stop and does better, they have a kid (or another kid if they already had one), and then he starts sneaking out at night to duel again. He gets killed by L. Faba, and Emilia goes through a deep depression that takes her years to recover from. After that, she and Simeon Silversweater hook up and he becomes a step-dad. She has more kids with him. What will change is that Darrel isn’t going to die, and I might find a way to make Minerva live a bit longer to be more of a thorn in her DiL’s side. Idk.

[dennydraws]

Good Morning and happy Mon- wait it's Tuesday!

Argh, I got lost in time again! It's another week and back to the grind! Why weekends can't be longer...

Whew, youtubing is getting slightly easier! But now I struggle with the phone camera. I keep trying different settings and at the end the weird wiggle still persists. But for now I just want to get more comfy with the drawing process while recording cause that alone can be a little uncomfy hehe I guess it's the whole selfconcious that you are being recorded XD but with that said, I ran out of energy to record a voice over last weekend while fighting a terrible migraine on Sunday. I thought to leave it for the next weekend instead of pushing myself but if I get burst of energy earlier, I will post it through the week :D

Comic work! Thank you for following "The Snake, The Firebrand and The King of All" !! ... that title sure is a mouthful, huh xD; The next chapter will be a bit late, likely next monday? I did outline it, I had to start sketching the pages on Sunday but I felt so incredibly tired, I spent most of the day just sleeping. I think work fatigue piled on me once more. We have a lot of holidays in February and of course a lot of graphics for those. I've been coming home with nothing but brain fog, static noise and desire to sleep forever. u_u;; But at least chapter 11 is fully sketched and I quite liked the flow of it! It is a bit more complex but maybe I can line art it little by little through the week rather than all at once in the weekend. I'll see! I'm pass the mid point and into the fluff now! +o+ I didn't think I'd go this far for something I didn't incredibly prepared for!

I've been playing Fire Emblem Heroes on the side... while waiting for other games to come out this year - looking at Eiyuden 👀! I will likely drop off the earth till I finish it, when it comes out, hehe ! :D But yes! FE! I'm long time fan though I hadn't played anything after Awakening, so more of a fan of the old ones? I couldn't invest the time and energy to pick 3 Houses purely because there was no golden ending of everyone lives and is happy - I'm too old for that sad shite, okay? u_u;;; Fates... we don't talk about Fates and Engage felt like the vtuber nation attacked. I couldn't get pass the character designs so I never touched it. The mobile game is fun and I just mainly picked it so I could grab some faves and pamper them! Lucky for me my faves have like no alts and were easy to pick :D;;; ...so I guess my taste is that bad, huh 8D;; It's ok Gangrel, I still think you are the best Trash King!

But yes~ I'm swamped at work, my hands are giving in, I can't wait for the weather to get warmer and I can't wait for Eiyuden to come out! \o/ Until then, I try to survive xD;; but don't we all? Apologies for not posting much...or anything lately. Work has just been soul crushing crunch as usual when several big holidays come in 1 month.

In any case ~ Thank you for stopping by and I hope you have great rest of the week! \o/!!

[kayedium-writes]

Hey, Kay! It took me a bit of time to come up with my asks for the Fanfiction Writing Asks, but I've reached my decision! My asks are numbers 10, 16, 22, 38, 42, 56, 72, and 77!

I hope you're having a good day so far!

Whew, okay Salty. Let's get into this! Thank you for the asks from this game!

10. Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

I wish I only wrote one fic at a time! I have so many. One shots, notes, multi-chapter WIPs, story collections... Haven't decided yet if it helps or hinders my creativity haha

16. Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

99% of the time, on my laptop. I will put notes in my phone, or jot down an idea to a friend on my phone. But anything longer - on my laptop!

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

...usually after. And titles are the absolute bane of my existence. I sit and wait for a title to hit me in the face more times than not! I try to pick something from a line or some theme or central topic.

38. What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

The Favor, without a doubt. My cheesy fake-dating Christmas fic? All indulgence. And I'm so eager to get back to there 'verse.

42. What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

All's Fair in Love and Politics - my first fic, my first title, and the only time I had something in mind before writing. Though, the sequel title Love & Loathing on the Campaign Trail is up there. Plays on words/phrases/other titles are always fun.

56. Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

Like Mother, Like Daughter. I've thought about rewriting it repeatedly. I had an idea in mind at the end that I scrapped, I felt I rushed it a little bit, and I just think I could do better.

72. What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

I actually just got one tonight that warmed my heart so much about a re-worked canon scene feeling natural with my added thoughts and feelings! I worked really hard on that scene and it was a lovely thing to read.

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

Because I always, always, seem to attach myself to the lesser loved characters and tragic ships and I like giving them the happiness I wish they'd received. For the writing itself, I like the community I've found. I like reading other people's work and building rapport and in general, having fun!

[more-than-a-princess]

WHEW.

And with several days before the start of 2023, to boot: I've made progress in my drafts. That being said, I want to share a few housekeeping things + the state of the blog going into the new year:

I will continue to share my activity check until January 1. After 1/1, I will be going through my mutuals and unfollowing accordingly. Here is a link to that post if it's needed.

Over the next few days/weeks, I will be looking to finish (or drop) threads that are reaching their natural end or I no longer have muse for. Due to the amount of writing partners I currently have, I'd ideally like to keep it at two active threads per blog. In this case, an active thread means an interaction that isn't a one-off reply and is replied to by both myself and my writing partner in the span of two weeks. Of course, I'm happy and eager to start new threads with you once we've finished old ones or ones that no longer hold our interest! But it's becoming a bit of a challenge to write with everyone I'd like to write with at present if I've got many active threads with only a few muns. With that in mind, I will likely be looking to finish threads first with those muns who have more than two active threads with me right now.

For mutuals who have been holding off on starters and/or thread replies, especially out of courtesy to my writing workload? Please feel free to post them now! Thank you for your patience and understanding, and I'll get to replying and queuing them accordingly.

I'm open to doing quick New Years Eve dashcomm over the next few days: if you'd like to send me an ask about this sort of content, the sooner you send it the better, at least in having a chance of being posted on 12/31 or earlier.

For mutuals I have yet to thread with: I'm hoping to interact with you! I will be looking for your starter calls, exchanging discords to plot, etc. I may try to post a starter call in January targeted specifically at mutuals whom I have not written with yet and/or I have zero threads with. I usually prefer to interact with memes, but I understand some muns aren't comfortable with sending them without prior interaction. This starter call would be for you!

Maybe, possibly, consider a new promo. I don't need to advertise right now, but I haven't had a new promo in almost a year and I'm getting tired of looking at mine. We'll see.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading. I can't wait to write with you in 2023! I'll be around on discord if you'd like to share a champagne toast (virtually, though I'll be enjoying my bubbly IRL), plot, chat, etc.

[ramp-it-up]

Red Wings

Summary: Bucky wants to earn his red wings with you.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: Around 1300

A/N: This is based on this ask:  What if reader and Bucky are shopping and he sees her put feminine cleanliness products in the basket? How would he react?

Again, sorry this is so late! I’ve been neglecting my inbox. This is a one shot

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Wee bit of angst on the part of the reader. Period talk, personal hygeine products, suggestive language (whew!) Talk of: Period sex, protected sex, unprotected sex (you still need to wrap it up), nipple play, anal play,  shower sex, anal sex. 

 Not Beta’d. All errors my own. 

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Despite your best efforts, James Buchanan Barnes found you.

He was, after all, a world class agent of stealth. And the former Winter Soldier.

You should have known better than to think you would outsmart him.

You watched in horror as he approached you with what he had in his metal hand.

You gasped.

Bucky raised his eyebrow at you and smirked. Then he shook his head as he deposited his item in the grocery cart.

It was a huge box of Cheerios. Plain.

“I know you don’t like them, Doll. We can go and you can pick out your sugar infested chocolate doo dahs if you want.”

You just nodded and hid your hand behind your back, a huge lump in your throat.

“Hold up. We need a couple boxes of these.” 

Bucky grinned as he grabbed two cartons of Magnum XLs and tossed them in the cart. 

“Those should last the week.”

You just stared at him, trying to slowly move your hand as you backed toward the shelf.

Bucky chuckled again and grabbed two more boxes.

“You’re right, we need more than that.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at you, and then noticed what you were doing.

“What ya got there doll?” 

He nodded toward you, suspicion evident on his face.

You were caught. There was no use lying. You sighed and brought your hand from around your back to reveal a feminine hygiene product.

“Might not need those condoms this week, Bucky.”

You avoided his eyes as you deposited it in the cart.

Well, this was it. You’d just started being domestic with Bucky and you really liked him, but this might be a deal breaker. You clutched the handle of the shopping cart and stared at the wheels.

“Hey,” Bucky moved close to you and tilted your face up by your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

“You good, Doll?”

You cleared your throat and tried to avoid those bluer than blues.

“I- I’m fine. That time of the month, y-know. So…”

You huffed.

“I know it’s gross, and I understand if you want to…”

“Doll. Look at me.”

You focused on Bucky, your cheeks hot.

“I know it’s your time of the month. I asked if you were good. Are your symptoms worse than usual?”

“H-how…?”

Bucky smiled down at you and leaned in.

“I can smell you.”

You closed your eyes, mortified.

“I am so… so sorry Bucky.”

“I said, look at me.”

Your eyes snapped open at his tone. You watched him lick his lips and observed the look in his eyes.

He looked..it couldn’t be.

“No need to apologize, unless it’s for not giving me any sooner.” 

Bucky watched your mouth as it dropped open.

“You’re killing me here, Doll.”

He cocked his head.

“We’ve been intimate for what? About three weeks? And we’ve been dating for three months?”

You were able to nod as his hand moved down to gently rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your neck. Goosebumps were raised all over your body.

“It was torture during each of your goddess times for me to hold myself back. You smell so… Goddamn Doll. You don’t know, do you?”

You shook your head now, speechless.

“You were on when we met, remember? I wanted to ravage you, but that would have been rude.”

You giggled, remembering your instant attraction.

“Oh my god, Bucky…”

“It was somewhat easier that night, since we barely knew each other, and plus I was havin the time of my life talking to you. You’re so damn smart, Doll”

Your boyfriend looked at you appreciatively, then went on.

“But when we became a couple, each month I just wanted to revel in you, but I sensed you were uncomfortable with it. But it was hard. God, I was so hard. Every single time.”

This time when you shook your head, it was in disbelief. 

Bucky pulled you closer to him.

“I am not a little boy. I’m a grown man. In fact, I’m an old man.” 

You stared up into his face, captivated. 

“I am not afraid of your womanhood. It’s not ‘gross.’ In fact, I happen to know that it can be very pleasurable for me… and for you during this time…”

You put your hands on his chest, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe.

How could he be this perfect?

“You’re more sensitive, especially your tits, Doll. Right?”

You didn’t, you couldn’t answer, but the answer was pressed up against him. He could feel it. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“They are bigger and softer right now. Nipples so fucking delicious. I bet I could make you cum just from licking them. Maybe sucking softly?”

The moan you let out was not appropriate for the grocery store, thank goodness it wasn’t loud. Bucky had you wrapped around his little finger, and you wanted to be wrapped around his big dick, cycle be damned.

“If you let me in, you’d be extra tight, you’d hug me so good and snug and I’d have to go slow, until you beg me to go fast, and it will feel like extra creamy goodness, especially because we won’t need those…”

He nodded toward the condoms and your eyes watered at the thought of fucking Bucky raw. He took a ragged breath before he continued.

“We can do it in the shower, or just lay down a towel. We’re both grown, Doll.”

He paused.

“Or…” 

Bucky was huffing in your ear now and you could feel his erection against your hip . 

“Or… I know you like it when I play, my fingers, or my tongue… in your other hole…”

“Bucky!” 

You hit his chest, and looked around. Bucky didn’t care who might have been around.

“Am I lying?” 

Bucky laughed and turned you around, grasping the cart around you, so you could feel his cock in your backside. You flushed when an older couple walked by and smiled at you two. It looked innocent, but it was anything but.

When they were out of earshot, you replied. 

“No… it’s just… you’re just so… I don’t know if it will fit...”

Bucky leaned down and kissed your neck, one hand splayed gently against your stomach, as the other reached for some personal lubricant and put it in the cart.

“Oh, Baby Doll,” Bucky groaned in your ear. “We’ll make it fit. And we’ll feel so good doing it.” 

You used to think you didn’t want it. But now you did. Your body was ready and clenching around nothing. That had to change.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

The neediness in your voice was readily apparent.

“Yes.”

He took a ragged breath, trying to calm down.  

“Bottom line is if you want to fuck Bucky on your cycle, off your cycle, 365, 24/7, this dick is yours. No qualifications, no black out dates. I want to have you in every single way.”

He cleared his throat and stepped back from you.

“So get whatever products you need. No need to hide them from me, Doll.”

He grabbed your neck and brought you in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ve got to take a walk because I have the biggest hard-on. I’m going to go get you some cocoa sugar dyno puffs on aisle 10 before I bend you over the salad bar and fuck you until we get arrested.”

You both laughed but the look in his eye said that he wasn’t totally joking. You swallowed and nodded, reaching for your products.

You turned around and Bucky was gone, as if that had been a dream. You began to wonder if it was.

Your phone vibrated and you pulled it out to look at the message.

Hurry up Doll. You got me so worked up that  at the very least I gotta suck your nipples until you cum. 

You practically ran to the checkout lane. 

When you saw James Buchanan Barnes’ fine ass waiting for you was when you decided to do the absolute most.

[licensedqueerio]

I have a request for a story. If your requests arnt still open that fine you can ignore this or keep it for later. Peter P. specifically AG

After/during the cross over. Im TH Peter Ps Bestfriend ive known him longer than Ned.

When MJ falls off the building TH Peter catches her. But AG peter catches me.

When that happens TH Peter P doesn't pay any mind to me falling and ONLY MJ, That puts a few negative feelings in my head, but ones that aren't selfish. So its more of " He didn't care that I was going to die" appose to " Wow hed pick his girl over me" type thing if you even understand what I mean.

That sets off a chain of events leading to me n AG Peter together or smt.

Whew it took me forever to get this out, and for that, you have my sincerest apologies. The ending is a bit rushed, but I didn't really want to wait any longer to post this, but I hope you enjoy!!

Also, sidenote, I have no clue about timeline and how many years isn't been since Endgame so the exact years are kept vague. And I hope no one minds, I talked about what I think it was like for the people who survived after Thanos' snap, maybe he was right--as terrible as that is. Hate to say it, but what do I know.

---

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: No Way Home spoilers, mentions of death, injuries, suicidal implications if you squint

Request Here

Part Two

---

Your friendship with Peter began when you were children. Peter was the nerdy kid who’d stay inside all of recess reading or tinkering with some toy. And you were the nice, friendly kid. Praised by your teachers and usually the go-to kid to make friends with kids like Peter.

You did it, of course. You'd sit with Peter as he went on about what comics he liked or TV shows. Who his favorite superhero was—real or fake. And you nodded along and tried to understand what he was talking about.

As time went on, your bond grew. You stayed friends for years. You were there for him every step of the way.

When he got bit by that spider, you were the first to know. You poked fun at him for his first costume, because that’s what friends did. You worried about him day in and day out when he went patrolling. And you bet your ass you gave him so much shit for disappearing to Germany when he fought half the Avengers.

Then Thanos happened. Peter left with nothing more than an “I have to help,” before jumping out of the bus. And that was the last time you had seen him. That had been the last time you’d seen any of your friends.

You were one of the select few that wasn't blipped. Lucky in some eyes, unlucky in others. You had mixed feelings about it, honestly. You didn't disappear, but…Peter did. Your best friend since kindergarten was gone. Hell, almost everyone you knew was gone. Peter, Ned, MJ. All gone.

But…you moved on. You had no choice but to move on with your life and adapt to the new situation, no matter how hard it was.

At your graduation, you cried. Half of your senior class was missing. Half of the world population was dead. And the people who were left had no choice but to continue on with life. The wheel of life kept turning. You adapted or you got left behind.

You wouldn’t be left behind. You’d live. For Peter. For Ned, for MJ.

You got into college and got a job to support yourself. Ironically, wages were better than ever now that half the population was gone. And everywhere was hiring, so finding and securing a job wasn’t difficult.

And you lived. You bought an actual home for decently cheap after a years hard work. You couldn’t stand to live on campus. Not when the blip was the only thing people talked about.

Four years later, the blip…was a thing of the past. People of course talked about it still, but not as much. Life was drastically improving. Poverty went down. Homelessness was all but over with. You hated to even think it, but the blip did bring good things for those left.

You got your college diploma and couldn’t stop thinking about how proud Peter would’ve been. You didn’t stop smiling that day, looking back on old photographs of the two of you wishing he was here, but understanding he was gone.

But then they came back.

By some…miracle or curse, every single person who disappeared reappeared. Horrifically, they appeared right where they had vanished from. Death was rampant that day.

You heard horror stories of how people had appeared back in building that had been taken down and perished. Of people who appeared on roads or highways. People on boats. It was a nightmare. You couldn’t stomach looking at the news that day.

The family—or should you say children—that had lived in your house before appeared in the living room and freaked out. You had the unfortunate pleasure of informing them five years had passed. That you were living there. Whispers of reassurances and heart wrenching confessions of, “I’m sorry, I don’t know where your parents are.”

That year had been the worst year of your entire life. The death rate skyrocketed along with homelessness. Wages dropped. People were going hungry again because there just wasn't enough food to go around.

But perhaps the worst thing that happened was Peter returning. As terrible as that sounded. Peter came back as a 16 year old boy while you were now 21. You had lived your life while his was on pause.

It didn’t feel fair. To either of you.

But humanity did what it did best. It adapted. You adapted to having Peter back. Even though you didn’t see him often. That was your fault, though. You’d grown apart from him in those five years. For him, nothing had changed.

On a good day, you could barely stomach looking at him. On a bad day, you wished everyone had stayed blipped. That Peter had stayed dead like you thought he’d been. Your grief had been invalidated. Those sleepless nights where you wished for the comforting arms of your closest friends felt pointless. And Peter couldn’t even begin to grasp what you were feeling.

So naturally, you grew apart. But then you realized you still missed him. So you grew close again. And all was calm. Things finally started to look like they were heading upwards once again.

But things could never really stay calm. Not in New York.

The multiverse opened, because of course it did, and villains were coming in looking for Spider-Man. And then two other Spider-Men had come into this universe to defeat said villains.

All of these events led to this singular moment. You were falling. But you felt like you were floating, traveling in slow motion through the air, your arms stretched out, seeking to grab something—anything—to save yourself.

Your mouth was open mid scream, barely audible over the roaring wind in your ears and the hammering of your heartbeat, blood rushing in your ears. You knew then that everyone was right. Your life did flash before your eyes when you were about to die.

With the realization that this was it. You were about to die after being thrown from the statue of liberty, everything came rushing back. You were falling fast through the air, the air punched out of your lungs. You turned your head.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do so, but you did. And you saw Peter jump off the building. He was going for MJ.

In some sick sense, you thought it was karma. You ignored him for the better part of a year. Treated him coldly. And in your moment of need, he didn’t even notice you. He went after his girlfriend.

You squeezed your eyes shut with the realization that this was it. No one was coming to save you.

Finally. It was over. Your time in this nightmare of a universe was over.

But then, there were arms around you. Your falling slowed until you came to a standstill. You took short, fast breaths as you opened your eyes, staring at Peter…2? No—no, this was Peter 3 if you weren’t mistaken. He had amazing hair and was…gorgeous, to put it simply.

“Are you okay?” He asked. His eyes were glassy and the words came out thick. You distantly recalled him mentioning he lost someone. His MJ. You didn’t know the details but you just knew it happened in a similar scene to your current situation.

You slowly nodded. “Are you?” You returned, staring up into his eyes. You could've sworn you saw a tear roll down his cheek. You didn’t mention it.

Peter 3’s smile was watery as he delicately set you back on your feet. “Yeah,” he said, before clearing his throat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you over.

“Yeah I’m…” Your voice trailed off as you caught sight of Peter—your Peter, behind him. Holding MJ in his arms. You let out a breath of relief. You were at least glad she was okay. Peter had saved her.

You expected him to look at you. To at least spare you a glance and make sure you weren't dead on the pavement. But no. He didn’t even notice you. He didn’t see you fall.

Somehow, that was worse than him intentionally going for MJ over you.

Peter 3 waved his hand in front of your face. “You don’t seem alright,” he stated with a frown. “You could be in shock, you should sit—”

“Yeah, I’m just…he doesn’t care,” you murmured. You didn’t want to sound…selfish or anything. You were fine but it was the principal of the matter. Your Peter had been too focused on MJ to even realize you had also fallen. Jesus, you could have died.

“Hey, that's not true,” Peter 3 said. “I’m sure he cares. It's just….adrenaline. He saw her fall first,” he tried to reassure and soothe. “Look—he’s seen you,” he pointed out.

You looked up to see Peter looking between you and Peter 3. He weakly smiled, holding a thumbs up. You weren’t convinced.

“...okay, I didn’t believe that either,” Peter 3 conceded. “But I’m sure he cares. Of course he does. You guys are best friend’s, right?” He squeezed your shoulder. “He cares.”

You were beginning to doubt that.

“He disappeared for five years. Life went on for me, we’re hardly even friends anymore,” you muttered. “It’s fine,” you dismissed.

---

Things only went downhill from there.

Your Peter tried to kill the Green Goblin. Peter 2 stopped him. Peter 3 was stabbed. The multiverse was broken and everyone who knew Peter Parker is Spider-Man was coming into this universe. You could see Strange casting a spell, but you were a little preoccupied.

You hurried over to Peter 3, who was still on the ground. You kneeled down at his side, “you okay, Spider?” You asked, trying for teasing, but the concern outweighed it.

Peter 3 grimaced as he nodded. “First time I’ve been stabbed, woohoo,” he half-heartedly cheered, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. “And it’s Spider-Man.”

“Here, let me help you,” you said, putting his arm around your shoulder and helping him to his feet, bearing a lot of his weight. “How’ve you not been stabbed yet? My Peter’s been stabbed.”

“Your Peter?” He asked. “Thought you weren’t friends?”

“Peter 1,” you clarified. “He’s not mine, of course, but he’s—he’s from my universe. Besides, he’s still so young.”

“I got it,” Peter 3 nodded, inhaling sharply and holding his side. “So there’s a chance for a guy like me?” He asked wryly.

“A guy like you?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Y’know,” he grinned, gesturing to himself with his free hand. “Guy like me.” He shrugged, that goofy grin still on his face. You had to admit, it was cute. He was cute.

“We’re from different universes,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist, mindful of his injury. “So, ‘fraid not.”

Peter 3’s grin didn’t falter. “Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?” He asked. “I think the wizard is ready to send us home,” he said, pointing up to where Doctor Strange was doing his thing. “I can promise I’m not as young as Peter 1.”

You looked at him, debating your choices. What's the worst that could happen? This was the only chance you would get since he was going back to his universe. It’s not like your life could get any worse than it had been.

“Only because you're injured,” you lied, like you didn’t want to kiss him just for the hell of it. You turned to face him better, lifting your hand. Your fingertips traced up his cheeks before burying in the hair behind his ears. Running your fingers through it, just to sate the urge you had since you saw it. Then you leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss.

The smile fell off his lips as he kissed you back.

After a moment, he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours, a dopey smile spreading across his lips. “I think I’m all healed now,” he said with a laugh, pulling away completely, turning to Peter 2, who was staring up at the sky that was fixing itself.

“...I think this is goodbye,” Peter 3 said. The hand that hung off your shoulder raised into a peace sign, which Peter 2 returned just before he faded away.

“Goodbye,” you murmured, kissing his cheek as he too, began to fade.

But instead of feeling his weight disappear like you expected, everything faded to black.

---

You woke up with a sharp inhale, groaning at the splitting sensation in your head. You squinted at the white ceiling as you struggled to recall what had happened. You drew a big blank and sat up slowly. You felt like you’d been hit by a truck.

You looked around the…bedroom you were in. It was messy, for starters. And you didn’t recognize it at all. Not the pictures, map, and sticky notes pinned to the corkboard or the Albert Einstein photo on one of the doors.

You turned as the window scraped open, staring in confusion as Spider-Man climbed in. But he froze when he saw you, ripping the mask off, eyes wide. “What are you doing here!?” He exclaimed, voice rising in both pitch and volume.

“What are you!” You exclaimed in equal surprise. “Where am I!? What’s going on?” You demanded.

Peter 3 stared at you with his mouth hanging open. He shut the wind and stumbled over his things until he stood in front of where you sat on his bed. “This is…my universe,” Peter said. “You’re in my bedroom. I—the spell returned me to this point in time. Right before Max died. But he didn’t. Max is fine. Gwen is fine, she’s on a plane to Oxford right now, and Harry—Harry got arrested, but he’s fine.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “I’m…” Your sentence hung in the air, unfinished as you stared at him harder. He looked younger. Which made sense, you supposed. He’d been returned to the past, right before Electro died. And somehow, he brought you with him.

You really hated the multiverse right about now.

“I don’t understand," you said. "I'm not from this universe, why would I—this makes absolutely no sense!" You laughed, gripping your hair as you leaned forward. "This is unbelievable."

"Hey—don't worry. Uh, we may not have wizards but I sure we can find some way to—" Peter stammered over his words.

You stood up, interrupted his nervous tirade, and kissed him. Because right now he was the only constant you had. The only familiar thing you had right now.

And maybe things would be alright. Maybe you'd go back to your own universe. Or maybe you'd stay in this one. Would that really be the end of the world?

[triplexdoublex]

Pornstar

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: rough sex, anal sex, face fucking, gagging, spit, spitting in mouth, slight bondange, golden showers, pissing in mouth, slapping across face, being filmed.

A/N: Shout out to Shawnie ( @heytheregreeneyes) for always letting me use her as my OC and being my best friend. Also Colson isn’t MGK in this, just a pornstar so his personality isn’t as cocky as he usually is. I know I’ve mentioned it before but the sex in this is loosely based off my fave porn star Small Hands AKA Aaron Thompson. Hope this was worth the wait. Lemme know what you think! “Open it, open it!” Your roommate and best friend Shawnie stood before you with a gift bag in hand, shaking it excitedly.

“My birthday’s not even until this weekend,” You laughed taking the bag from her. “You sure you don’t want me to wait? It’s only a few more days.”

“ No please, I’ve kept this a secret for long enough, it’s killing me! Just open it!” She exclaimed. “Plus your gonna need time to prepare.”

“Prepare?” 

“C’mom, just open it, open it, open it!!!” She was far too excited. You wondered what it could be that she was so eager to give you. But what you pulled out of the bag just left you with even more questions. 

“Thanks???” You said confused, holding up a sexy red lace bra and matching g- string that tied at hips. 

“That’s only part of it,” she assured you. “What’s your biggest wish?” She tried to clue you in.

“Ummm paying off all my student debt?” You answered still puzzled. “Did you get me a job as a stripper?” You laughed.

“Okay, maybe ‘wish’ was the wrong word to use … hmmm—oh biggest fantasy!” She corrected herself. 

“Oh to fuck my favorite porn star Huge Hands, AKA Colson Baker. You know that — wait … no, no way!”  You exclaimed as your friend started frantically nodding her head yes. “Shut up!!! What? You’re kidding. Like how?”

“Look in the bag . There’s more!” 

You reached into the bag and pulled out a pass of some kind and read it aloud. “Huge Hands/Colson Baker : Exclusive Access, Porn Star for a Day pass” 

“They were super limited, I have no clue how I managed to snag one, but I’m so happy I did! The look on your face right now is priceless!” Shawnie laughed. “It’s probably because you’re the only one I know who’s  crazy enough to actually go through with this.”

“I-I don’t even know what to say. I have no words… thank you.” You expressed your gratitude, still in shock. “I’m really about to have the best sex of my life this weekend! On my birthday yet! Have you seen his fucking cock, it’s huuuge!”

“Yes, many times,” Shawnie chuckled , entertained by how pumped you are. “Or did you forget about all the links of his umm ‘work’ you’ve sent me?” Shawnie wasn’t big on porn herself but she was always willing to take an interest in your latest obsessions, no matter what they were. That’s what you loved most about her. “Turn it over, it tells you more about what’s included on the back.”

You did as she suggested, turning the pass over to read more. “Half hour zoom call day before to privately discuss details, and needs/wants of scene; hair and make up; up to one hour of shooting time; and keepsake autographed DVD recording,” you listed off. “You know I’m gonna watch that everyday for the rest of my life, right?” 

“I’m assuming you’re gonna make me watch it at least once too, knowing you,” Shawnie laughed. 

“Yeah probably,” you laughed as well. “ I got no shame!”

*************

You’re stomach was in knots as you waited for the zoom call to begin; you’d never felt so excited and  nervous at the same time. Shawnie was there with you sitting just out of frame, when the ‘bloop’ of the call came through your computer's speakers. 

“Hi, Y/N?” Colson questioned.

“Yeah, hi. That’s me!” You did a timid little wave.

“Ok good, just wanted to make sure I got the right person before we get started here. Imagine that … Awkward!,” he laughed, and you instantly began to relax; you could tell he was going to be easy to talk to. “Well, obviously you know what I do , but I’d love to hear a little about you. Says here on your forms you’re a college student?”

“Wait, what forms?” You asked.

“The ones you filled out online with your info and kinks and things you wanted to include in our video when you purchased the Pornstar for a day package,” he answers slightly confused. 

“Ohhh, my friend bought me this for my birthday, she must have filled them out.” You responded. “She’s right here. Say hi Shawnie!”

“Hi!” She giggled leaning into frame. 

“Hello. Wow this must be some “friendship” he joked making air quotes. “Because this is a very detailed list. You gotta hear this.” He smirks. “Written in the section about what you hope to include in our scene says— and  I quote: I want Huge Hands/ Colson to absolutely destroy me. I want him to fuck my throat, my pussy and my ass. I want him to slap me around, and spit and piss in my mouth, and anything else he wants to do to me, I’m all for it.”  He choked out a laugh pulling dramatically at the collar of his shirt “Whew, I’m the pornstar here and that’s even got me blushing!”

“Oh my God, Shawnie!” You covered your beet red face.

“What!?, did I lie?” She laughed.

“I mean no, but still. Damn, to hear it out loud like that.” Your eyes bulged. 

“So it’s true then?” Colson asked slyly.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” you hid your smile behind your hand, shaking your head in embarrassed disbelief.

“Aye,  no need to be embarrassed, we’re gonna have fun tomorrow, I can tell,” he smiled. “I’m especially excited that your interested in Anal. It’s kinda my favorite. I’m assuming you’ve done it before?” 

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Tell him what your ex said!”  Shawnie blurted out. 

“Oh, boy. I gotta hear this,” he chuckled. “What’d the ex say?”

You inhaled deeply before speaking, “I do enjoy it, probably more than regular sex, if I’m being honest,” you admitted. There was no use trying to be coy now. “Uhhh he actually said I could be a pornstar since I can take a hard anal pounding so well.” 

“Nice!” He exclaimed. “Girl, after my own heart.”

“Jesus Christ, this conversation has me sweating already,” you chuckled standing up to pull your cardigan off. 

“Is that a little tattoo I saw there, peaking out of the top of your jeans?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you wanna see?” You unzipped your jeans without waiting for a response and lowered the top of your underwear just enough to show him. 

“ The Playboy bunny, huh? How fitting,” he teased.

“What can I say, it was my first tattoo,” you giggled “Seemed like that’s what everyone was getting at the time.”

“What else you got going on down there?” He lifted his head as if trying to see more. “Is that a landing strip?” He asked referring to the thin dark stripe of short curls just  barely visible above the band of your lowered underwear. “Can I see?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you lowered them further exposing yourself, your inhibition long gone at that point. “This is just how I normally like to groom. I can shave it completely if you prefer?” 

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he smiled. “Well, I think I have a pretty good idea now of what you like and what we’ll be getting ourselves into tomorrow. Do you have any questions or anything else you want me to know, before we end the call?” 

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Shawnie pretty much laid it all out on those forms,” you laughed. 

“That she did!” He produced a chuckle as well. “I meant to ask earlier, but, since she knows so much about your kinks and what not, have you two ever —“

“ No, just best friends, I tend to overshare, I guess.” 

“Yeah it amazes me sometimes, the things women  share with their friends, but yet guys are always the ones who are known to kiss and tell and brag about their conquests. Females can be just as bad, y’all just keep it on the low a little better,” he stated. “Well, I look forward to working with you tomorrow. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait!” You responded. “Bye.”

“Bye,”

You felt oddly comforted and at ease after the call, no longer a ball of nerves or embarrassment. He made you feel like there was no shame in enjoying the things you did. He was very professional despite the nature of the call; it didn’t feel sleezy or overly salacious; just two consenting adults having a mature conversation about their sexual desires. 

*************************

When you walked out of hair and make-up and onto set, you saw Colson waiting for you on a red leather couch. He was clad in only black dress pants; shirtless — his tattoos on full display. He smiled seductively when he saw you, beckoning you over with a pat to his thighs. You undid your silk robe they had given you and let it slip from your shoulders to the floor, revealing the red lacy set Shawnie had bought you, as you made your way over to him. You suddenly became very aware of all the cameras and other people in the room, as you sat on his lap. Somehow it has slipped your mind that they were all a part of what went into this.

“You get used to it,” he said softly , remembering the way he felt his first time in front of the cameras. “Just pretend they’re not even there— only me and you, okay?” He said brushing a finger along your thigh. “Unless, Shawnie forgot to mention you’re an exhibitionist too, then by all means enjoy them watching us fuck,” he joked, making you laugh. “Don’t forget, if you need me to stop at anytime for any reason, just give me three quick taps,” he demonstrated, tapping your thigh. “Don’t worry about the filming, they can always edit and piece things back together if needed. This is all for you and I want you to enjoy yourself. Oh and happy birthday by the way! It’s today right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“Ok, so we’ll just start the scene with some kissing and light touches, and when I feel you’re ready I’ll signal the camera man, he’ll call action, and then we'll be recording.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded your head. He had made you feel so comfortable and relaxed the last bit of nervousness you chalked up to just being slightly star struck; You never thought in a million years you’d get this opportunity.

“Ready?,” he pressed his forehead to yours, staring directly into your eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up into the most alluring devilish grin. 

“Ready,” you echoed back, biting your lip trying to suppress a needy whine. God you were always such a sucker for his killer eye contact in his films, and now you were the one his eyes were soul fucking. You’re heart pounded with excited anticipation as Colson’s face drew nearer to your own. He lightly held your chin as he pressed his lips to yours, parting them to introduce his tongue. It was a welcome greeting, cut short by the breathy “oh fuck ” that involuntarily slipped from your lips.

“”You good?” He laughed softly, a small puff of air the only thing separating your mouths; your foreheads still touching. 

“More...than good,” you spoke in a short choppy sentence trying to compose yourself. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he smirked against your lips, continuing to kiss you. 

You melted into his kisses— slow and gentle at first,  increasing in intensity as he carried on. When he nipped at your bottom lip with a low groan, you lost all innocence, shifting positions to straddle his lap. You gripped the back of his head, as he kissed you and rolled your hips against him, demanding more. And that’s when he knew … that you were ready.  He quickly signaled to the cameraman with a thumbs up, and “Action” was called. 

His hand slipped down from your chin, settling on the highest part of your neck just under your jaw, his fingers squeezing at your pulse points on either side. Roughly he turned your head to the side with a push of his thumb and his mouth began mauling your neck with an appetite for lust, leaving blooming raspberry patches along the descending path of flesh that lead to your breasts. With one hand he expertly undid the front clasp of your red lace bra and took in the sight of you.

 “Perfect,” he whispered into your flesh with a growl, taking one breast  in each hand as he licked between them, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You slid the silky straps of your lingerie over your shoulders, letting it fall, as he took turns going back and forth between each breast treating each of your nipples to light suction and a pleasurable nibble. You let out a moan at his actions and again rolled your hips in his lap, pressing yourself against the hardening bulge inside his dress pants. “Needy are we?” He teased swiftly  spinning you around so your back was to his chest. He dug his chin into your shoulder peering over it as he snatched up the crotch of your panties roughly, tugging the material up between your lips . You canted your hips up chasing after the friction of the coarse fabric against your clit. “You like that, huh?” He pulled them harsher. 

“Mmmm, yes” you squeaked out, nodding your head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he growled nipping at your neck. “Look at this pretty pussy,” he shoved the material to the side exposing you, letting his fingers explore your folds as he pleased. “You want my cock right in here huh?” His voice was so gravelly and low as he slipped a finger inside you, only to quickly pull it back out, teasing you. “Taste yourself,” he brought the finger to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it, as he slid it further into your mouth, his long fingers slipping down the back of your throat. “Oh, god, yes!” He exclaimed impressed by how you didn’t even gag. “Tell ya what—“ he paused to add a second finger to your mouth, continuing to talk as you sucked “If you can suck my dick as good as that—“   he then pulled them back out of your mouth. “I might just have to fuck you right in here too,” he shoved his spit slicked fingers into your ass.

“Yes, fuck, please!” You whined, wiggling your hips, wanting his fingers deeper.  

“You like that? Huh. You dirty little anal whore!” He grabbed your neck with his free hand, keeping you pinned back against him, the fingers of his other hand still moving inside you.

“Yes, yes! I am,” you strained to speak. “Please, please fuck my ass!” You whined impatiently with pleasure. You never heard yourself sound so needy and desperate in your life.

“You sound you pretty when you beg, but you're gonna have to earn it first,” he demanded pulling out his fingers,  leaving you feeling empty. Quickly, you dropped to your knees in front of the couch as Colson got up standing before you. You waited impatiently while Colson unbuckled his belt above you. Once undone he yanked the belt free from the loops with a satisfying ‘whoosh’ that made you pulse between your thighs. You desperately clawed his pants and boxers  down his legs like a feral cat in heat as Colson brought the tip to your mouth, still holding onto his belt in the other. “Open!,” he demanded. “Goooood,” he growled in praise as you did what you were told. You reached up to grab it but ,“no hands!” he smacked them away, and then secured them behind your back with his belt. “Let’s try this again, open!” He spoke harshly. You obliged, opening wide. “Tongue” he barked.  You let it hang from your mouth with anticipation; eager breaths rolling down it like a panting dog eyeing a steak. He teased you, slapping his cock against your tongue before shoving it fully into your mouth. Your eyes prickled with tears as you fought your gag reflex, taking him down your throat. He held your head in place with one hand , the tip of your nose pressed flush against the coarse hair of his pelvis, as he hunched his body forward over yours untying the sides of your G-string. It slipped from your body leaving you completely nude. Colson smacked your ass, then gripped it harshly, making it jiggle for him before finally standing straight up and pulling his hips back to let you come up for air. 

“Huuuuuuhhhh,” you inhaled sharply gasping for breath, letting oxygen penetrate deep into your lungs before Colson stuffed your mouth again. Mascara ran down your hollowed out cheeks as you sucked. You started pulling back out of instinct when you began to gag but Colson held you in place. 

“No, keep it in your mouth,” he instructed condescendingly, looking down at you. “Just a little longer” he promised. You tried your best, Colson letting out a throaty moan every time your raw, used throat constricted around him as he fucked into it. “Mmmgghh,” he groaned, pulling out of your mouth “Goooood girl,” he praised with a smirk, before bending down to give you a sloppy kiss, swapping mouthfuls of saliva. Just as he pulled away he let a long string of collected spit slip from his pursed lips and into your open mouth, where you eagerly accepted it, moaning as you swallowed it down. 

 You let out a breathy “awhhh” as you opened your mouth again, wiggling your tongue enticingly. 

“Such a dirty, fucking whore,” he bent down again and spat directly in your face. He smeared it all over your face with his hand before grabbing you by the neck, pulling you to your feet. “Turn around,” he ordered. You did as he said and Colson undid his belt from around your wrists. Before you even had a chance to soothe your sore wrists with a rub, Colson spun you around and pushed you down onto your back on the couch, your ass teetering on the edge of the red leather cushion. “Spread yourself for me,” he instructed, as he pumped himself. Again you did as you were told; you pulled your legs up, wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them back as you parted your opening with your fingers.  “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He teased the head of his cock through the glistening mess on display for him. 

“Fuck me,” you said in an inpatient huff, staring into his eyes. 

“Awhhh, yessss,” he groaned out, slack jawed as he sank into you

“Ohhh, shit,” you screamed out , face twisted in pleasure, your eyes slipping shut, at the feeling of him burying himself deep in your cunt.

“Open your eyes. Look at me!” He spoke harshly, cupping your face in his hands as he thrust. You opened your eyes, trying to focus on his, but your vision was  spotted by the intensity of it all. “Feel good?” He pressed his forehead to yours just as he’d done earlier , starring directly into the windows to your soul as he fucked you. You nodded the best you could, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “Words, I want words. Say yes!”

“Yes.. yes,” you responded breathily, biting at your lip.

“Yeah, Mmmghhh, that’s it. Fuck, I like it when you use your words”  he moaned , shifting himself to be more upright. He then spit on the tips of his fingers and brought them to your clit and began rubbing it furiously, his cock still destroying you.

“OH Fuck!” You cried out, wiggling and bucking your hips. 

“You gonna fucking stay still? He roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. You nodded your head, trying your best to calm your body’s erratic, pleasure driven movements as he thrust. “Words!” He spat, his hand letting go of your face only to connect it to your cheek again with a quick, yet harsh slap.

“Shit! ...Yes!” You corrected yourself once again, Your body was  loving how aggressive he was getting the longer he fucked you and he could tell;  spitting at and striking your face again.

“Turn over!”  He ordered, abruptly pulling out. “Hands on the back of the couch.” He roughly assisted you in turning around , and you placed your hands where instructed. You arched your back and pushed your ass out waiting for him to re enter you from the new position. “This is where you really want it, huh?” He teased his cock over your asshole. 

“Yes!,” you remembered to use your words this time.

“You’re a dirty little fucking anal whore, aren’t you? He asked, he question sounding a lot more like a statement. “Let me hear you said it.” He applied pressure to your hole with the tip, as he yanked back a fist full of your hair.

“I’m a dirty little fucking anal whore!,” you repeated desperately pushing back against him.

“Mmmghh!, That you are!” He confirmed with a groan, snapping hips hips forward, quickly entering you. 

“Uhhhhh, Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the feeling. You never fully understood why you enjoyed anal as much as you did, perhaps it was the pleasurable fullness, the taboo aspect, the fact that you were one of the few woman who were into it, or the way so many men were obsessed with it , and the look on their face when they found out you were more than willing to take it up the ass, but you absolutely loved it, and this time was no different. Every jack hammered thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, especially when Colson reached around to between your legs adding the friction of his fingers to your clit. The sensation of your ass being stuffed combined with his  touch was the perfect recipe for orgasm and you felt it building every time his cock slid in and out. 

“Yeah, cum for me,” he could feel you tightening around him. His words perfectly in sync with the  jolt of pleasure boiling over in your abdomen and ripping through you with vast intensity. A series of explitives and sounds you’ve never heard yourself make, flew from you lips as your body went boneless under Colson. He quickly pulled out, turned you back over and came across your face with a few pumps of his hand. He collapsed to the side of you briefly, before tugging you off the couch and onto your knees. “I’m not done with you just yet,” he spoke out of breath taking his softening dick in his hand. Your eyes lit up, you knew what he was referring too— the only thing on your list of wants he hadn’t included yet. “Say ahhh!”

“Ahhh,” you echoed the request, letting his golden stream fill your mouth, splash off your tongue and dribble down your chin and body. You giggled, piss spilling from your smile as you looked up at him, all your fantasies now fulfilled. 

“Annnd cut!” Called the director. A few stage hands scrambled to bring you both a towel and small refreshments. “Almost done, just gonna get you guys a little cleaned up, rehydrated, let you catch your breath a bit, and then film the little quick, post scene interview. 

“Ok,” you both answered.

Colson tossed his towel over his shoulders and reached out his hand to you “You, good?” He asked with a faint laugh , watching your hand shake as you drank your water.

“Yeah,” you answered letting him pull you up onto the couch. 

“You were amazing,” he said, rubbing your back. He knew the come down from the adrenal rush of scenes could be taxing, especially from rough ones . “You —“

“Ready,” the director interrupted, cutting him short, and immediately pressing record. “So how was it?” the director focused the camera on you first. 

“Oh my god.. mind blowing,” you answered , still out of breath, adjusting your towel. 

“And you?” The director turned the camera to Colson.

“ Absolutely amazing. She was a natural. I’d love to work with her again.”

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

-

You woke up slowly. 

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check. 

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check. 

Wait… 

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left. 

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear. 

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check. 

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man. 

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

... 

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out. 

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you. 

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. 

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep. 

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze. 

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body. 

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on. 

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

-

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out. 

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going. 

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove. 

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn. 

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease. 

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you.  As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly. 

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse. 

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball. 

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place. 

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow. 

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could. 

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course. 

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome. 

-

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

-

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

-

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

-

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

-

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality. 

A certain quality of... of... 

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves. 

Sigh. 

-

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet. 

The reply was instant. 

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more. 

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up. 

Your jaw dropped. 

You dropped your phone. 

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it. 

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope. 

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say? 

This is just an ad? 

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone. 

At a very specific number. 

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree. 

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything. 

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that. 

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh. 

-

You sneezed. 

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

You sniffed, rubbing your nose. 

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered. 

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait. 

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers. 

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh. 

Whoa. 

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs. 

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch. 

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket. 

Oh. 

Oh??? 

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone. 

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt. 

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him. 

Yoongi was right next to you. 

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat. 

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second. 

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.  

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[worth-more-than-two-thousand]

Omega’s Observations

Request:  Congrats on starting the blog!! Pumped to have a new writer's work to read 🥰 If you need some requests, how about an echo/gn!medic reader who he develops a crush on, for a little of that sweet sweet mutual pining action✨ Dunno if you write pre-citadel or just BB echo, but I'm happy with either. Have a good weekend!! :) (@krussyfed)

Author’s Note: Whew! This took a while for me to get to a place where I felt good about posting it. Honestly, as most of my writing does, it got a bit away from me, but that’s because I love fleshing out a story, showing-not-telling, and building on events from the canon. But if I saw this through until the end, I probably wouldn’t end up posting this for months! So I hope what I have here is worth the wait, and if you want more, let me know! 

Story Notes: Unbeta��ed, no obvious warnings. 

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Ask her brothers to describe her, and ‘still and quiet’ would not be two of the words any of them would use. 

Hunter would call her curious to a fault, then ruffle her hair to let her know that he meant it in the nicest way possible. 

Wrecker would boom with laughter, proclaiming her one of them (“Always ready for action and adventurin’! Let’s go get those gundarks!”). 

Tech would probably consider for a moment, then use a four-syllable word. Like effervescent.

Echo would call her young and energetic, but his brow would furrow as though this might be a bad thing. Then he would inevitably follow up with a reminder to stay within sight and keep out of trouble. She didn’t mind. She knew he just worried about her. Omega would always reassure him that she would keep close to her brothers. Of course, whether it actually happened was usually another thing. 

Crosshair, if he was with them, would probably call her troublesome. 

But really, this was a tactical advantage. Her brothers never expected her to be still and quiet, so she could settle in and be observant when it was least expected of her. 

Omega was actually quite accustomed to being taciturn, at least when she needed to be. Her time with Nala Se, after all, was mostly like this. 

Watching over like a stone guardian as Nala Se pored over the capsules containing her modified brothers…

...being as unobtrusive as possible during another endless meeting with Lama Su…

...laying noiselessly and without complaint as Nala Se inserted a needle into her arm for yet another blood sample…

 These days, Omega could be as boisterous and vivacious (two more words Tech had taught her) as she wanted to be, so long as there was no chance of enemies being around. The only time she was obediently still by choice during these times was when she was being treated by Y/N, Clone Force 99’s on-board medic. 

Again, this was mostly out of habit from her time with Nala Se, but it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, Y/N fielded all of Omega’s questions with unending patience. And their hands were less clinical, more gentle than Omega was used to. Nala Se was efficient, not a movement wasted in her examinations. Y/N, however, always offered a comforting touch on the back after a scary encounter, and would gently but firmly place their hands on Omega’s face to look her in the eye to assess emotional well-being. 

The first time Y/N had done this was on the Ordo Moon, as Y/N was finishing wrapping up Omega’s small scratches on her hands and knees from her misadventures in the underground tunnels. 

At this point, not used to such close eye contact, Omega averted her eyes and looked over Y/N’s shoulder for something to distract her from the unusual awkwardness she felt. 

Her eyes met Echo’s. 

Her awkwardness vanished as he seemed to startle, a faint flush appearing on his neck, as he coughed, crossed his arms, and turned away, suddenly much more interested in examining the ship’s ceiling than anything else. 

What an interesting reaction. Her brain filed it away, curiosity piqued.  

Then, over the course of a few weeks, Omega confirmed her suspicions. 

Echo was always watching Y/N. Echo liked Y/N. 

Omega caught him absentmindedly gazing at Y/N’s hands as they tapped thoughtfully on a datapad while Wrecker carried new medical inventory aboard the Marauder during a supply run. 

After Wrecker’s successful inhibitor chip removal on Bracca, and Tech volunteered to go next, Omega watched Y/N’s hands fly across the medical controls, fierce determination sharpening their features. Glancing up, she saw that Echo’s attention was similarly arrested, a look on his face that was bordering very close to adoration. 

He seemed most captivated by Y/N’s hands, however, whenever they were treating him personally for any ailments or injuries. Echo always sat pin straight, almost comedically robotic (it would be funnier, but his history brought a sort of cruel irony to the thought) and allowing Y/N to turn his body and maneuver his prosthetic arm however was needed without any fidgeting or complaint. 

But his eyes were another story. Darting back and forth everywhere their fingers touched, such a stoniness to his face that Omega was certain he was committing every graze, every feather-light touch, to memory. Y/N, as always, was so focused on the medical work that they never seemed to notice. 

Omega saw things, though. Echo was like Y/N’s shadow, often slipping into the same room or area Y/N was in, like a ghost. She observed with fascination how he always angled himself to face her whenever there was a conversation in the cockpit. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of them, or if the entire squad was there and discussing a mission, it was as though he had attuned himself to wherever Y/N happened to be and was drawn to them.

Like a sunflower always facing the sun. 

She saw in the field how Echo, not Hunter, was usually the one to call the Marauder to check in or alert Y/N to any injuries that would need to be treated when they returned. How the space between his brows would crease whenever they would radio in but only receive the static of communications interference. 

Or worse, no answer at all. 

Echo wouldn’t say anything, but Omega felt that her brother’s steps would quicken, just a little. And she wasn’t sure she was just imagining a sudden sense of urgency in the air as they completed the mission, with just a bit more efficiency, a bit more ruthlessness than was usual. 

Omega saw how Echo always let out a tiny breath in relief, as though he had been holding it the whole time, whenever they returned to the Marauder with its medic unharmed. 

And she would never forget that one time they had returned to the Marauder, doors blasted open, interior trashed, with no medic in sight and droplets of blood leading away from the ship. 

Omega had never been in war, had only heard about it passively from the conversations between Nala Se and Lama Su, then a bit more directly from her brothers once she was allowed out of the private lab. 

She had once asked Tech about the war, but his response clearly paled in comparison to the dark look on Echo’s face, as they battled their way through enemy after enemy to rescue Y/N.

Omega felt as though she understood war a little bit more after this. At least its motivations. 

It took longer for Omega to figure out whether her brother’s feelings were reciprocated. Y/N’s affection wasn’t as obvious, but the trick was to watch more for their actions than in body language. 

Since Y/N and Tech slept the least, they would swap bunks and so were usually on opposite sleep schedules. This meant that Y/N would stay up late into the night well after the rest of the boys had retired to their bunks, face alight in the glow of a datapad. They would concentrate fiercely, chewing on their thumbnail and pausing often to tap notes into the margins. 

Omega eventually managed to snatch and break into Y/N’s data pad, and saw that they were working their way through a series of medical journals, detailing the latest treatment for prosthetics. There were also several articles on treating post-traumatic stress disorder for former prisoners of war. 

Omega had even checked Y/N’s search history, and discovered that they had been using an encrypted channel to search for chatter on the whereabouts of the former 501st legion and its various members. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Y/N had much luck so far, but if the number of searches were any indication, they weren’t giving up. 

Omega wondered incredulously how none of her other brothers had yet caught on to the two’s clearly mutual affection for each other. Until she realized that no, they already knew.

Once, when Omega had offered Echo some of her Mantell Mix, Echo had sniffed it, much to her amusement. Her giggles subsided immediately when Echo murmured apologetically that he sometimes had trouble digesting pretty much any food that wasn’t nutritional paste, due to half his digestive system being completely artificial. 

Of course, this meant that he must have been experiencing constant abdominal discomfort, as they hadn’t had any nutritional paste on the ship since their escape from Kamino. Hunter once mentioned to her that even the plainest of rations seemed to bother him, but he gamely never complained.

One day, Hunter was giving out rations in the cockpit, and had already given Tech and Wrecker their usual. Then he pulled out a green, unlabeled squeeze packet instead of the usual rations bar, and handed it to Echo, who took it with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

“New brand. It should be easier on your digestive systems than the usual stuff. Tastier, too.” 

Echo glanced at the packet skeptically, unscrewing the cap and sniffing at its contents. 

“It smells...fresh?” 

“Try it,” Hunter urged him, to which Echo obediently tried a small amount. 

His mouth rounded in a surprised ‘oh’. Omega wished she could have captured the look on his face with a holovid. He stared at the packet in his hands, with a look that was a bit like wonder and amazement. 

This didn’t escape Wrecker’s notice, who immediately stood up in protest. “What? Why does Echo get something new to eat?” He glanced forlornly at the slightly crumpled, stale rations bar in his hand. “I want some!” 

“They’re too expensive for your appetite, Wrecker,” Hunter replied, just a bit too quickly, though none of the others seemed to notice. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t like it.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Wrecker proclaimed, swiping the packet from Echo’s hands despite Hunter’s attempt to chastise him. Wrecker took a giant slurp. 

...and immediately spat it out, some of it splattering on poor Gronk. 

“Blech! That tastes weird.” 

“Probably because it’s made of fruits and vegetables,” Tech said dryly, “Your palette likely isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the subtle bitterness and natural sweetness that are characteristic of those food categories.” 

Echo eyed Hunter skeptically. “And we have the money to keep buying these?” 

Hunter hummed, closing the rations box and turning away from the cockpit. “Omega’s paying for it from her holochess winnings.” She startled at the sudden mention of her name. “We have extra to spare, for now.” Hunter subtly winked at her when the others weren’t looking. 

“Oh. Thank you, Omega,” said Echo, looking at her with true gratitude. Omega flushed a bit, but mostly because it actually didn’t have anything to do with her. She played along, however, and insisted it was no problem. It did seem to make him happy, so there was no harm in a small lie like that, right? 

She cornered Hunter later, though, and insisted on him telling her the truth. After wearing him down a bit, he finally relented.

“Okay, but you can’t tell the others, all right? Believe me, I’ve already tried to talk them out of it. But Y/N has been doing some medical work on the side, working at one of the clinics near Cid’s bar. They’ve been using the money to buy these.” 

Omega’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why can’t you just tell Echo that?”

Hunter sighed. “Because they don’t want Echo to know. Figures that Echo wouldn’t like them going out on their own to work in the slums for his sake. They’re probably right, of course.” He rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign of an impending headache. 

Omega frowned, then decided to go for it.

“You know they like each other, right?” 

Hunter blinked at her, looking surprised. At her determined stare, he gave a sigh and muttered something like, ‘I’m getting too old for this’. He proceeded to explain patiently to her that perhaps Echo and Y/N liked each other, but pointed out how awkward or difficult it could be to have a romantic relationship in such close quarters, especially when they as a team also had bigger things to worry about. 

It sounded like Hunter had given this exact speech at least twice before. 

So Tech and Wrecker knew, then, but were being polite about it (or, in Wrecker’s case, had probably gotten an earful from Hunter earlier about tact and ‘minding one’s own business’). 

Well. That wouldn’t do. 

By the time Echo got up the nerve to say anything, he’d probably be old! (Omega wouldn’t, but she tried not to think too hard about that particular fact.)

So, she began to scheme. Quietly. 

She had the tactical advantage, after all. 

[astro-rain]

delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

-

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

-

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

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