#and am looking forward to making a black cat to go with it

[clesired]

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request a fred x black cat!gf since he’s such a golden retriever!bf?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! go christmas shopping with your boyfriend, come back with a cat!?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fem!reader, golden retriever bf!fred x black cat gf!reader, established relationship, second person pov, 0.8k words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your eyes scan the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade, mentally mapping out the different shops you need to hit for your Christmas shopping.

Nodding to yourself, you gently release Fred’s hand and look up at him to confirm. “Okay, meet at Three Broomsticks in two hours?”

He looks at you like you’ve just kicked him, as he grabs your hand again and frowns. “No, what? Why are we splitting up?”

He looks so genuinely confused as to why that’s even an option and it makes you feel a little warmer despite the chilly air.

Still, you squeeze his hand softly and shake your head. “You’re one of the people I’m shopping for today, Freddie.”

You see the indignance before he even speaks. “That’s okay, I’ll just pretend like I didn’t see.”

His quick response pulls a laugh out of you before you can stop it and you shake your head in amusement.

“Two hours isn’t even that long, love. We spend more time apart during classes.” You point out gently.

It’s not that you wouldn’t prefer Christmas shopping with your boyfriend—you just prefer that your gifts remain a surprise a bit more.

He pulls you into his chest, uncaring of the surrounding witches and wizards witnessing the public display of affection.

“That’s because I’ll get a howler from mum if I skip too many classes.” He grumbles quietly, and you pout back at him teasingly.

“Oh, the poor baby. The horror!” You coo as you pinch his cheek teasingly, causing him to let out a quiet huff before he suddenly throws you over his shoulder and starts booking it through the village.

You let out a noise of surprise as you pound at his back, your hits doing absolutely nothing to slow him down.

“Put me down this instant, Frederick Gideon Weasley!” You pull out his full name, which causes him to laugh.

“Promise we’re shopping together first!” He calls back, and now it’s your turn to huff.

“Fine, I promise. Now unhand me, you silly man!” You smack his butt for emphasis just as he’s setting you down on your feet.

He smirks mischievously as he stares down at you, hands still holding you by the waist firmly. “Feeling a bit cheeky, are we, love?” His brows wriggle up and down playfully.

You furrow your brows, “What-” and then you groan, realization setting on you. “Oh, you are foul for that joke.”

He leans in closer to you, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours affectionately. “You love it.” He insists softly.

“I love you.” You correct, looking up at him.

He smiles, his eyes shining with happiness as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “And I love you.” He murmurs softly.

“Even though you drive me crazy sometimes.” You tack on, causing him to step back and clutch at his heart dramatically.

“Really know how to make a bloke feel special, love.” He winces softly, hanging his head as he rubs circles over his heart.

You roll your eyes playfully as you gently pull his hand away from his chest, intertwining your fingers before you begin walking to Tomes and Scrolls.

“C’mon, Mr. Broken Heart. You can walk it off, yeah?” You pat his back consolingly before facing forward and leading the way.

Fred pretends to sniffle softly as he walks, taking one big step forward to even out with you. “My girlfriend stop being mean to me challenge, difficulty level: impossible.”

You turn your head to glare up at him. “I am not mean to-”

You stop short as he raises a pointed brow, and you feel your cheeks heat up in a rare display of embarrassment as you look the other way.

“That doesn’t count. I’m defending my name here.” You mumble quietly, making him chuckle as you feel yourself get pulled into his side yet again.

“Don’t worry, you look cute when you’re all irritated. Like a disgruntled kitten.” He notes with a smile.

“You did not just call me a kitten.” You say, your tone laced with the slightest hint of incredulity.

“You’d look cute as a cat, now that I think about it.” Fred continues playfully. “Think you’d fit as a black cat.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” You grumble quietly, and Fred nods.

“Spoken like a true black cat.” He says matter of fact, and you can’t help but laugh out of sheer confusion.

“My love, what does that even mean?” You raise your brows.

He chuckles with you, “You know, I’m not really sure. But it makes sense to me.”

You side eye him as you two walk past Pets & Familiars. You can already see the gears turning in his head as he peers through the shop window.

“Don’t you even think about it, Freddie.” You warn, and he pouts softly.

And there he goes with his puppy eyes—you’re a sucker for that look and he knows it. “Oh, you are playing so unfair right now.” You grumble quietly.

By the time you’re walking back to the castle hours later, not only does Fred know everything you got him for Christmas and vice versa—but you are both now proud parents of a little black kitten.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! wooh, first request done!!! not sure i did the black cat!gf archetype justice, but i tried. i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[woso-story]

Lazy Days

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon

In the heart of Barcelona, in a cozy apartment filled with soft light and the gentle hum of the city outside, Ingrid and Mapi were living their perfect lazy day. The kind where nothing urgent demanded their attention, and all the time in the world seemed to stretch out in front of them.

Ingrid was lounging on the couch, her legs stretched out, a book in her hands. Though she had every intention of reading, her eyes often wandered, distracted by the quiet joy of the moment. Across from her, Mapi was curled up in an oversized sweater, her hair messily pulled back into a bun, her favorite pair of sweatpants snug around her waist. She had her phone in her hand, but it was clear she wasn’t doing much with it—just scrolling mindlessly, occasionally stealing glances at Ingrid.

The apartment was peaceful, the soft light filtering in through the windows and casting a golden glow over everything. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of flowers Ingrid had picked earlier that day—a perfect complement to the warm, contented atmosphere.

It wasn’t just the setting that made it perfect, though. It was the presence of one other thing:

Bagheera, their black cat, who was sprawled out on the windowsill, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Her sleek black fur shimmered in the light as she lazily watched birds flutter outside. Every now and then, she’d stretch or flick her tail, but otherwise, she was content to bask in the sunlight, much like her owners.

Ingrid set her book down, the words on the pages having blurred into the background. She shifted slightly, her eyes landing on Mapi.

Mapi noticed Ingrid’s gaze and smirked playfully. “What?” she asked, her voice teasing as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Ingrid chuckled and closed her book, setting it aside. “I was just thinking how lucky I am,” she said softly, turning her body to face Mapi.

Mapi raised an eyebrow, her playful expression softening into something more tender. “Lucky to have me?” she teased, her tone filled with warmth.

“Very,” Ingrid said with a grin. “You’re perfect, even when you’re being lazy.”

Mapi rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just... taking it easy,” she said, leaning forward and nudging Ingrid with her elbow. “Someone’s gotta balance out your energy.”

Ingrid raised an eyebrow, playfully looking Mapi up and down. “Your energy is... mostly naps and snacks, Maria.”

“I do a lot more than nap,” Mapi said, giving a mock-offended look, though it quickly dissolved into a laugh. “Besides, I’m just giving you time to focus on being productive. Someone has to make sure you don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m not overworking,” Ingrid said, sticking her tongue out at Mapi. “But maybe you’re right—you're my professional relaxer.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a relaxation consultant.” Mapi gave a dramatic wink, making Ingrid laugh.

Just then, Bagheera jumped off the windowsill with a soft thud and sauntered over to the couch. She hopped up beside Ingrid, who immediately reached down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. Bagheera responded with a purr, leaning into the touch as her tail flicked lazily. 

“You’re not as relaxed as she is,” Ingrid teased, glancing up at Mapi with a sly grin. “You could take some notes from Bagheera.”

“Oh please, she’s a cat. She does nothing except sleep and act cute,” Mapi said, but her eyes softened as Bagheera made herself comfortable next to Ingrid, curling up and resting her head on Ingrid’s lap.

Ingrid chuckled, gently running her fingers through the cat’s sleek fur. “Maybe she’s onto something. Look at her—she knows how to live.”

Mapi grinned, leaning back further into the couch. “Alright, I admit it. I could probably stand to be more like her.” She propped her feet up on the coffee table and then dramatically flopped her arms to her sides. “From now on, I’m only going to do what Bagheera does. Nap, eat, and look cute.”

Ingrid laughed, her hand still gently petting Bagheera, who was now purring contentedly. “You’ve been doing that for a while already,” Ingrid said, giving Mapi an affectionate look.

Mapi smirked and gave a little shrug. “Hey, I’m just ahead of the curve.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence, only broken by the soft hum of the city outside, the occasional chirp of birds, and the rhythmic sound of Bagheera’s purring. Ingrid took in the peaceful scene, her gaze flicking from Mapi to the cat, her heart full. There was something about these simple moments—no expectations, no rush—that made her feel so connected to everything around her.

After a while, Mapi turned her head to look at Ingrid, her expression shifting from playful to something softer. “I really like days like this,” Mapi said quietly, her voice a little more tender. “When we don’t have to do anything except... be together.”

Ingrid smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. She leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair from Mapi’s face. “Me too. It’s perfect.”

Mapi's hand found Ingrid’s, and their fingers intertwined, a simple gesture, but one that meant so much more. Ingrid squeezed her hand gently, feeling the bond between them. The connection wasn’t just physical; it was an understanding, an unspoken promise of always being there for one another. In that quiet, lazy moment, everything felt exactly as it should.

Bagheera, seemingly sensing the moment of calm, let out a soft meow and nudged Ingrid’s hand with her head. Ingrid chuckled, scratching the cat behind the ears. “You’re not going to let me get distracted, are you?”

Mapi laughed softly, squeezing Ingrid’s hand once more. “I think she’s trying to make sure we stay here forever, just like this.”

Ingrid glanced up at Mapi, her gaze soft and affectionate. “I wouldn’t mind.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon like that—Bagheera curled up between them, the three of them sharing the kind of quiet moments that didn’t need words. Ingrid and Mapi occasionally exchanged light-hearted teasing, their easy laughter filling the apartment, while Bagheera drifted in and out of peaceful naps. In the end, it didn’t matter that there were no grand plans, no rushing to meet deadlines, or the weight of the world on their shoulders. All that mattered was that, for this one perfect afternoon, everything felt right. 

And as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the room, Ingrid rested her head on Mapi’s shoulder, feeling a contented smile curl on her lips.

“I love you,” Ingrid whispered softly, her voice almost drowned out by the quiet purring of Bagheera.

“I love you too,” Mapi replied, her voice just as soft but filled with all the warmth of the world.

And in the peaceful embrace of their apartment, with their lazy cat at their side, they drifted into the kind of happiness that only came with days like this—simple, slow, and full of love.

[tj-crochets]

Miss Beatrice Bear and Lady Petunia Opossum! Both dress patterns are from PemberleyThreads on Etsy, and both plushie patterns are mine

[savanir]

I found your missing cat

It had taken a lot of work but about a month ago Danny finally got deep enough into A.R.G.U.S to be allowed into its Black Room. and my, what a treasure trove it is.

In the following weeks Danny has spent a lot of time finding all the lost Infinite Realms artifacts he was supposed to locate and return, as was part of his kingly duties. The Observants had been constantly on his ass about this but now that the results of his efforts are actually visible they have finally shut up.

Today though something new has gotten brought in and he’s eager to take a proper look, he could feel the Tyrant king’s influence from a distance emanating from it after all.

While on his way he noticed one of his colleagues, Miss Barbara Minerva if he remembers correctly, talking to who looks to be Wonder Woman. Danny hasn’t had the chance to do so himself yet, he’d love to introduce himself properly but he’s also a little worried about all the knowledge he has on Amazons from Lady Pandora (which he very much shouldn’t have) coming out the moment he tries to have a proper conversation.

Still he hopes nothing bad comes from those two ladies being on friendly terms. Miss Barbara's vibes are all over the place, and most often nowhere good, but who knows, maybe her being around Wonder Woman more will fix that.

He gets to his little section in the compound with the big examination table all decked out and ready for whatever. Today he gets to look at one of Pariah's lost blades, the godslayer sword.

Danny is working on getting all the murderous enhancements off of it and depowering it into something nowhere near so dangerous and deadly when something perks up within the weapon. 

Sensing a kindred protection spirit it leaps up from the blade and into Danny, happily nestling around Danny's core and starts purring up a storm. 

Danny however is violently startled out of his work. It's hard not to notice the sudden claws he feels both on his hands and feet. The spotted fur that covers seemingly his whole body now, his shifted ears, eyes and nose. And the fact he's now sporting a tail of all things. 

The Cheetah may be pleased with this new development but Danny is certainly not. 

Footsteps thunder his way, followed by a shout, "what is wrong!? I heard sounds of distress and- oh!"

"Uuuhhmmm..." What does he say!? How is he supposed to explain all this to Wonder Woman!?

She marches forward and firmly grabs his clawed hands in her own, not worried in the slightest about his now razor sharp nails, "worry not, we shall break this beastly curse that has befallen you, you have my word" 

She gives him what he thinks must be a reassuring smile, "I am Diana of Themyscira and-"

Danny isn't really listening after that, she's probably just giving him more reassurances. It's nice but she's also pretty intense. And Danny is still freaking out a little. 

"- so no need to fret"

Danny blinks,"Uh thanks, I- I'm Danny Fenton" 

"It is most pleasant to meet you Danny Fenton, even if the circumstances are quite unfortunate"

"Yeah uhm, just Danny is fine"

"Very well you may call me Diana" She nods and lets go of his hands.

Diana then wishes to see the artifact that cursed him so, aka the blade (which didn’t curse him), Danny thankfully already fully depowered the damn thing safe for some minor traces of whatever Pariah saw fit to stuff in it. 

By now Steve as well as Barbara have come to take a look themselves and though they appear startled at his new catlike appearance they are mostly just worried once Diana tells them he's cursed. 

Which he's not, this isn't a curse at all. The big cat spirit still tightly curled around his core is clearly a blessing of some sort, that'll make dealing with it all so much more complicated...

But at least Danny got to meet wonder woman right? That's cool.

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

DAY 15: HYBRIDS

With: Megumi Fushiguro

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Sub + cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birthcontrol mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi,

A/N: i had alot of fun with this one tbh. but also I usually write gn! reader, so dealing with readers pleasure is so hard to write about lol. i am so used to only catering to what feels good to the character.

Owning a cat was way easier than you thought it was going to be. Well, at least owning a cat hybrid was. Megumi, your adorable, slightly temperamental, and moody black cat has been living with you for about five years now, and you love him desperately.

He stays at home while you go off to work each day, but he never complains, instead just sleeps the day away. In fact, you tried introducing him to the neighbor’s hybrid, a lab named Yuuji as a playmate, but he blatantly refused, growing annoyed almost immediately at how upbeat the dog was. Megumi preferred silence, sunbathing, sleeping, and your full attention. He was okay being at home alone until you got back.

He currently lays on the carpet, curling up in the warmth of the light, and dozing off when he hears the sound of your keys working their way into the hole. His ears dart toward the noise, and a smile creeps up his face, but his eyes remain shut, and he pretends to be asleep.

You open the door and sigh, eyes darting around the apartment to find your cat. When you catch him on the floor sleeping, you smile, shutting the door behind you and setting your stuff down on the counter. You make your way over him, dropping to your knees, and then finally laying down next to him. 

You stare at his relaxed, content face, and begin to reach out to touch him affectionately. He grabs your hand before you make contact with his skin, and pulls it forward, pulling you into his chest. Then he wraps his arms around your boddy, intertwines the two of your legs, and nuzzles his face on top of your head, purring gently. 

“Hi Megumi,” You mumble against his chest. “You are so warm.”

He nods, tail swinging behind him. “Been in the sun all day,” He breathes, and you hum, curling up against him. “...Missed you,” Megumi whispers lowly, still rubbing his cheek against your head.

You chuckle at him. “Oh whose this? My Megumi would never say something so sappy,” You tease, pulling away to look up at him.

He pouts, ears falling flat on his head as he rolls his eyes. “Am I not allowed to miss my mate?” He complains, but licks a stripe up your hair, still purring. 

You groan when you feel his inhumane tongue lick your face. “Hey, stop it. No grooming, humans don’t do this.” You try to push him away, but he ignores you, wrapping his arms tighter around you and pulling you closer. 

His purrs grow louder when you finally give up, and you watch his tail swing back and forth from behind him. He licks at your face, and then your hair, and finally your neck. You shiver slightly, still not used to the attention even after all these years. “You stink,” Megumi mumbles into your neck, using his tongue to wipe away some of the gross scents that clung to you.

“You want me to take a shower?” 

He grips you harder, shaking his head into your skin. You feel his crotch press into your backside, and you raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. “S’fine. I don't like it when my mate smells like other men though.” He rubs his neck onto any surface he can, scent marking you as his.

You roll your eyes, but smile. He was being strangely affectionate today. Usually, it was you who has to initiate physical contact and doting words. “Just coworkers, possessive cat. What’s got you all worked up today?”

His hips move closer to yours, beginning to grind himself on you. “Wanna do it,” he whispers, so low that you could barely hear him. His cheeks pinken, but you can't see them, so you cant tease him about it.

You move your hips backward, meeting him halfway. He lets out an airy breath onto the back of your neck, and you shiver at the feeling. “Yeah? You haven’t been thinking about it all day, have you?”

He feels his cheeks begin to burn. “Shut up.” A definite yes. His semi-hard cock continues to grind on your clothes, and you sigh at the feeling. You quickly manevour yourself to turn to look at him, and he pouts slightly, ears drooping, from the loss of stimulation. You roll your eyes with a grin, and tug at his pants. “Right now? H-Here?” He stutters, but helps you pull down his pants, obviously not too against the idea.

“Don’t get so nervous on me now. What happened to my brave cat who was basically grinding himself on me just a couple seconds ago?” You tease, kissing at his neck and pulling a small mewl from him. He gulps, baring his neck slightly to let you plant more kisses on it. He grips onto the back of your head with shaky hands, encouraging the action.

You slip your hands into his boxers and he gasps, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes squeezing shut from the attention. You pull it out, and then proceed to pull your pants down. “Hurry,” He demands, tilting your head up to kiss you. 

It's a desperate sort of kiss, both of his hands cup your face and bring you impossibly closer to him. It makes it harder to remove your clothing, and you can feel him begin to grind onto your stomach. 

You are forced to pull away to unbutton your pants, and he whines in complaint. “Such a spoiled brat,” You tease affectionately, “Cant go one minute without being touched? Are all kitties this needy?”

He looks away from you, pouting again, but you just giggle and kiss his jaw, finally removing your panties. “Don’t know. Don’t wanna think bout it. Do you not like when I am needy?”

He holds back a smug smile, knowing that this will definitely give him brownie points. He is right of course, because the next second you are littering his face and neck with kisses, while he purrs, soaking all the attention up. “Of course not. You are so cute needy.” 

He nods, smart enough to know that an argument will break out if he doesn't. So he smiles contently, melting under you and your soft touches. Finally, you grab his cock and press it against your entrance. Megumis mouth waters at the feeling, the warm welcoming sensation of your folds. 

“Do you…uh…Don't you need to be prepp–oh fuck,” He groans, throwing his head back as you sink onto his cock without much hesitation. You sigh into his chest, adjusting to his length — he was slightly bigger than adverage, and every time you take it, it always feels like a stretch, but it was an addicting sensation.

The two of you turn to where he lays on his back, and you on top of him, chest to chest. He grabs at your hips, hands shaking as he restrains himself from moving you up and down on his length. His eyes are screwed shut and his ears are pinned to his head. “Hey, relax. Why are you so tense? It’s okay for you to move, sweetheart.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, and nods, while you bring your hands up to pet his ears. He leans into the touch, purrs increasing in volume as he lifts your hips up and back down. He repeats the motion a couple of time, pants getting louder and half lidded eyes peering down at you. You in return have your own blush, its softer than his, but definitely noticeable. “I…Can I…Fuck this is so–Can I thrust…into you?”

He fumes red, and he turns his face into the carpet, embarrassed by his lewd words. Even after all this time, he is unbelievably shy, and can never voice what he wants in bed. “So polite! Must of trained you well.” He nods, ears flickering to you at your sweet words. “Of course, kitty. Dont gotta ask, ‘m all yours.”

Immediately he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest, and begins to thrust upward. Your eyes widen slightly at his pace, and the roughness of it all, and you groan into his skin. He moans at the feeling, breath heavy, matching his pace. “Oh fuck. This. This I was–fuckkk—waiting for this all day!”

You pant into his chest, a smile pulling at your lips. “Y-Yeah?” You encourage, and he nods with a hum. Loud slapping of skin on skin fills the room, and his tail reaches up to wrap around your wrist. His cheeks are stained a permanent pink, and his chest rises and falls quickly with every pant. 

You managed to shakily reach up to his ears, grabbing the both of them and giving them a small tug. He yelps slightly, back arching, but then moans into the touch. It was cute, he was super temperamental about the black ears. On some days he wanted you to pet and rub them, on others he wanted you to pull and abuse the sensitive areas. Today was the latter.

“Was–Was fucking my hand thinking bout you. Not as good. My mate is so warm,” His voice vibrates with a purr, and you chuckle at him above the lewd noises. It was endearing to watch his body succumb to pleasure. His voice always held a purr, but he still managed to make every human like sound with the addition to the vibration.

Eventually he flips the two of you over, his arms caging you in under him, as he licks and kisses your neck. “Mhmmm. Mine, mine, my mate. Love you. Love you so much,” He chants into your ear, biting at the lobe while continuing to thrust into you at a merciless pace.

“S-So talkative today,” You mumble, gripping onto the carpet at a particularly harsh thrust. Usually, you were the one leading the dirty talk. He whimpers at the words, pressing his entire body on top of yours. He liked to be touching, and as much skin as he could, the better, but of course he would never admit that outloud. 

“Dont know why. Just missed you. Fuck I missed you. Why do you leave for so long?” He complains between breaths, his voice holding a dramatic whine to it. He nuzzles his face into your neck, scenting the area while you reach back and scratch his ears. “Why–Why…Hah.. Can’t you stay here with me? Th-Thought you loved me.”

He was being unreasonable and the both of you knew it, but today he was being weirdly sappy and clingy, so you didn’t mind having to reassure him. “Love you so much. You know why.” You feel his teeth graze into your skin, and he probably has his ears pinned back. “Ill try to work from home more, how does that sound?”

He nods, mewling happily to himself. Then he goes back to panting into your skin, licking and biting any surface he can lay his mouth on. You dont try to stop him, knowing if you do, he will probably get all pouty.

“Can I cum? P-Please? Been good, right?” He hasn’t really, other than the sweet words he has let out, he has not be gentle at all. You will probably be stumbling by tomorrow. His pace is desperate, frantic even, that makes you begin to lose your mind.

But he was feeling good, and your thoughts were draining anyways. “Sure, love, I’m c-close too,” You sigh, closing your eyes and pressing your face against the carpet as you begin to feel that tightening feeling build up.

He gulps and nods, kissing your cheek. “Inside? Please?” His words come out as a whisper, obviously hesitant about the question. He has been day dreaming about this for weeks, to finally cum inside you, but never mustered up the courage to ask. Today, he was feeling good, and you seemed to be happy at his behavior, so it was the best time to ask.

Your orgasm hits you out of the blue, and you are left trembling on the floor. Your eyes roll back slightly and you heave, “S’fine Megumi. J-Just cum!” You were on birthcontrol, it was okay just this once. Your thoughts were scrambled from the intensity of your orgasm.

His pace picks up again and you shiver at the feeling, while he lets out low mewls and purrs, happy at your choice. “Im cumming. Thank you, thank you,” He mumbles into your ear, and then latches onto your neck as he shoves himself as deep inside of you as possible, and cums.

He throws his head back and groans, arms trembling. It feels so much better than cumming inside a condom or pulling out. You are so warm, and the idea of the possibility of him breeding you, leaves him shivering with glee. He would never tell you this of course, you would most definitely call him a perv or an animal.

He collapses on top of you, practically glowing, and purring happily from above. He flips the two of you over so that you are back on his chest, peering up at him. His face is damp with sweat, and his cheeks are flushed pink, but he wears a small, content smile. 

You feel cum begin to ooze out of you and you groan. “Ugh, now I definitely need a shower.” He cringes at the words, and you laugh. “Can’t believe you hate water, you are such a sterotypical cat.” He frowns, and rolls his eyes, not responding, because you are completely right.

“Aw cmon, mate, dont get all pouty now,” You tease, and his eyes flash to you in an instant. His cheeks turn a vicious red, and he covers his face with his hand,

“...Call me that again,” Megumi whispers, so low that you could barely hear him.

You raise your eyebrows, cocking your head to the side. “My mate?”

He begins to purr again, hands wrapping around your back to pull you up closer to him. He leans in, and hesitantly presses his lips to yours, pulling back slightly to mumble, “'m hard again.”

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green : Part 23

The cheerful bell rang a familiar chime as Damian opened the door to his favorite animal shelter. The scent of fur, pet food, and antiseptic was as comforting as it was potent. Damian watched Danny closely out of the corner of his eye. The other boy’s nose wrinkled, but he looked around the front room curiously.

“Damian! I wasn’t expecting you today,” Ms. Lacey said as she popped out of the back room, summoned by the chime.

‘Ms. Lacey�� was their compromise. Damian had refused to simply refer to the woman by her first name and in turn, Ms. Lacey refused to give Damian her last name. It had been supremely frustrating. Now it was almost akin to game or inside joke between them. It was nice.

She brushed the riot of curls (blue this month) out of her face and looked at the group that had entered the shelter curiously.

Damian knew they were a bit of a sight. Danny was still swathed in a number of bandages and, now out of the apartment, looked a moment away from running. Because of that, Jason basically loomed over Danny and Damian as if he could keep the world at bay.

(He might just be able to manage to.)

“No. It is not one of my normal service days, however, I am not here to volunteer,” Damian said, his tone almost apologetic. “I have brought Daniel—”

“Danny.”

“—to see if there is a pet that would suit him.”

“Hi, Danny,” Ms. Lacey said and leaned forward onto the counter.

Danny shied back into Jason’s space. He clutched a little tighter at the backpack that his bear was safely stashed in. Cass had thought it might be good for Danny to be able to take the bear discreetly with him as he seemed rather attached to it. Considering the tracker in the bear, everyone quickly helped make that happen.

“Hi Lacey,” Danny replied softly.

Ms. Lacey leaned back, her smiled now twinged with just a little bit of sadness. Damian had seen her look abused animals the same way. “Do you know what type of animal you might be interested in, Danny?”

“I was thinking a cat or dog?” The words were more a question than a statement. “Someone that can sit with me.”

“That’s a good start. That could also be rabbits, but if they’re going to be living at the manor,” Ms. Lacey glanced briefly at Damian for a confirming nod, “then a rabbit might not work the best. A cat has the advantage that it would be indoors and doesn’t need as much effort depending on the animal’s age. But you might want a dog to walk! Why don’t we get you into the kitten room to start, because that’s a great time no matter what.”

When Danny glanced from Ms. Lacey to Damian to Todd, Todd gave a little nod. Danny tightened the hold on his backpack, took a breath, and gave a little nod.

-

“Okay, this is pretty great,” Danny said as he pried a tiny orange and white ball of fluff off his shoulder and set the little guy back down with his siblings.

Immediately the kitten was pounced by the black kitten and had his ears chewed on.

“Kittens might be too much energy for me though,” Danny admitted. He had a feeling he’d never have the type of energy he used to again. He wasn’t sure if that was from his death or… everything else.

“They are a great deal of work,” Damian agreed. His own lap was full of peacefully sleeping kittens.

Danny was a little jealous. He caught the grey kitten who looked more like a a dust bunny as it romped past.

“What if I don’t find a pet today?”

“Then we will go somewhere else. This is not the only shelter in the city,” Damian said.

The straightforward certainty that Damian had about the world was something Danny had come to appreciate over the last several days of knowing Damian. The fear was still there. Danny didn’t know if it would ever go away, but he could ignore it now. Sometimes it was hardly even background noise.

Danny was used to having a brain full of static.

“It will be fine, Brother,” Damian said when Danny didn’t respond.

Brother. Damian insisted on using that instead of his name, but Danny figure that was because Damian didn’t have a last name to call him like all the others. Bruce was simply ‘Father’ too. Maybe it was about Wayne then? But Danny wasn’t Daniel Wayne. He was just Danny… no one.

“Yeah,” Danny made himself respond so that Damian didn’t get worried. For all that Damian tried to be aloof he really was worse than even Dick.

“If a kitten would be too much, what do you think of an adult cat?”

Danny looked down at the little slip of a kitten in his hands. It was so tiny. “I think let’s start with dogs. Something not so small and… breakable.”

Damian nodded and started to divest himself of cats. “I have heard the vets ‘joke’ that kittens will heal from anything. One could toss a kitten and its missing foot in a cage and it would reattach. I suggest we do not try it.”

“No,” Danny said in horror. “We are very much not trying that, what the hell.”

“What is what I said.” Despite having to deal with many more kittens, Damian was up first and offering Danny his hand. “Come, Brother.”

Danny took the hand, stood, and still had one last kitten to pull off of of his jeans where it clung with this sharp, sharp claws.

---

AN: I was able to give this a read through finally, so have the first bit of this chapter! Because who doesn't want Danny and Damian surrounded by adorable kittens?

[br0kenangel]

𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰.

The door opened without a knock, and in strode your eldest son, Aegon. His expression was one of barely contained fury, his mouth set in a hard line. He wore the black and red of his house, his silver hair shining in the light.

You didn’t rise or greet him formally. Instead, you took a slow sip of your wine, watching him like a cat watches a mouse caught in a trap.

“Mother,” he said, his voice sharp and clipped.

“Aegon,” you replied coolly, setting your goblet down with a faint clink. “Come, sit. You look as if you’ve been chewing on a sour lemon.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared slightly as he sat across from you. His jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists.

“What did he do this time? Has your father’s wisdom left you choking on your own tongue?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s not wisdom he’s choking on. He’s a fool if he thinks Rhaenyra’s claim will hold this kingdom together. He’s determined to throw it all to the wolves. And for what? His precious daughter?”

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair, the wood creaking under the pressure. “He still insists on keeping Rhaenyra as his heir,” he spat, his voice brimming with frustration. “Despite all the signs—despite the whispers in the court, despite the tension between the lords—he clings to this foolish notion that she will unite the realm.”

You tilted your head, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Ah, the great dreamer, your father. One might think he’s convinced himself he lives in one of his old songs about gallant knights and wise queens.”

“Dreams,” Aegon spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he stalked toward the window, glaring out at the city below. “Dreams won’t stop the realm from tearing itself apart. His stubbornness is going to ruin us all.”

You arched an eyebrow and tilted your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Tell me, my dear, what’s worse: a king who refuses to see reason or a son who insists on treating every disagreement like a declaration of war?”

“I need to act, Mother,” Aegon growled. “The realm is on the verge of breaking apart, and he’s too blind to see it.”

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on your fingers. “And how do you propose to fix this? Drag him from his throne by the scruff of his neck? That would be quite a sight.”

He glared at you, though there was no real malice in his eyes. “This isn’t a jest.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied smoothly. “But sometimes, my son, the truth is so absurd that the only thing left to do is laugh.”

Aegon’s eyes snapped back to you, sharp as daggers. “I am declaring war,” he said, his tone dangerous. “War on stupidity. Father is leaving our family vulnerable. The lords see weakness, and weakness is blood in the water. They will turn on us the moment Rhaenyra takes the throne.”

You laughed softly, amused by his intensity. “Oh, Aegon. Always so dramatic.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “You think the lords will rise for her? The only thing these men rise for is power. Offer them that, and they will forget who was promised what. It’s always the same song, my son. Play the right tune, and they will dance to your music.”

Aegon clenched his fists at his sides, the tension rolling off him in waves. “The music won’t matter if Father continues to shield her with his blind loyalty. He treats her like she’s untouchable, like the gods themselves have chosen her to rule.”

“Ah, yes, the gods,” you said dryly, waving a dismissive hand. “A convenient excuse for poor decision-making. If we all did what the gods wanted, we’d be living in rags and begging for scraps. No, Aegon, the gods don’t care for the affairs of men. This game, this fight for the throne—it belongs to us. It always has.”

Aegon paced in front of you, his mind racing. “And yet, here I am, watching as the realm slips through my fingers because my father insists on upholding his dying legacy. Rhaenyra is weakness. She’ll tear the kingdom apart the moment she’s crowned, and he refuses to see it.”

“Your father has always been a romantic at heart,” you said with a sigh. “He’s clinging to the idea that love and family will prevail over politics. A fool’s hope, if ever there was one.”

“Fool,” Aegon muttered under his breath, his frustration clear.

You regarded him with a look that was equal parts admiration and exasperation. “Just as I expected,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Aegon furrowed his brow. “What?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. I'm just proud of my son. Ruthless, cold, but oh so clever.”

He blinked, unsure if you were complimenting him or insulting him.

You leaned back, your voice turning serious now. “Aegon, you have ambition, that much is clear. And yes, your father’s decision may well lead to war. But wars are not won by anger and frustration. They are won by strategy, by waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“I don’t have time to wait,” Aegon said through gritted teeth. “If we delay, we will lose support. The longer Rhaenyra remains the heir, the more dangerous she becomes.”

You smirked. “Dangerous? Rhaenyra? The woman has more soft edges than the pillows on my bed.”

“She’s dangerous because of the people around her,” Aegon snapped. “Daemon, Corlys, and all those who would see her on the throne. They will turn the realm against us.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Daemon is certainly a problem. And Corlys…well, his stupidity is only matched by his ego. But you are right. The lords will not stay loyal to Rhaenyra for long if they sense weakness.”

Aegon looked at you, his eyes sharp and determined. “Then we need to act.”

You held up a hand. “Calm yourself, boy. This isn’t a tavern brawl. You must act carefully, deliberately. There’s a difference between being strong and being reckless. Don’t be such a child about it.”

Aegon’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I’m not a child.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Then stop acting like one, stamping your feet because your father won’t do as you wish. He won’t change his mind, Aegon. He’s too proud and too stubborn, just like you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Listen, Aegon. I raised you to be a ruler, not a brute. You must understand the importance of timing. Your father will not change his mind easily, but he is not your true enemy. The lords, the people—they are the ones you must win over.”

“And what would you have me do, Mother?”

You gave him a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “You show them that you are the only one who can protect them. You play the part of the dutiful son, for now. Let your father continue with his dream. But when the time comes—and it will come—you make sure the realm sees you as the only viable option. The lords are like sheep. They will follow the strongest shepherd.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels in his mind turning. “I can steady it,”

You smiled. “I know. And you will. But you have to be patient. Anger makes for terrible decisions.”

“I have no patience left for Father’s foolishness,” Aegon muttered.

“Then let him be foolish,” you replied coolly. “Let him play his hand. And when the time is right, we’ll play ours.”

“And what if the time never comes?” Aegon asked, his voice low, full of doubt.

You smiled, leaning back once more. “Oh, it will. It always does.”

Aegon stood there for a moment, visibly wrestling with himself, before he let out a long breath and sat down across from you. “You’ve always had more faith in my future than I have.”

“I trained you for this, didn’t I?” you said dryly. “I didn’t raise a fool. Nor did I raise a man who lets his temper dictate his choices. You should know that the moment you act out of rage, you’ve already lost.”

Aegon’s lips twitched, the tension in the room easing slightly. “So, I’m to be the calm one, while everyone else runs around like fools?”

“You are to be the calm storm,” you corrected. “Let them think you’re passive, let them underestimate you. The realm is full of fools, but we are not among them.”

Aegon finally allowed himself a small, grim smile. “You’re far more ruthless than anyone may think, Mother.”

You raised your goblet in a mock toast. “I take that as a compliment.”

He nodded, his resolve clearly strengthening. “I’ll bide my time, then. But when the time comes—”

“When the time comes,” you interrupted smoothly, “you’ll be ready. And the realm will kneel to you, as it should.”

Aegon stood, the weight of your words settling comfortably on his shoulders. “I’ll see to it.”

You watched him head toward the door, then called after him. “Aegon.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

“Don’t be afraid to smile,” you added with a wicked smirk. “It unsettles people when a king looks like he’s already won.”

Aegon chuckled, a rare sound, but one that left the room with more tension released than when he’d entered.

As he left, you leaned back in your chair, sipping your wine and staring out the window again. The game had been in motion for years, and your son had finally learned how to play it.

“Well,” you murmured to yourself, “this should be interesting.”

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 5

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[nisuna]

I am currently losing my mind over some fanart of MEN. Big beefy, rough looking men with scars and stubbly faces BIG beefy Arms and huge caloused hands with thick fingers. Face scars, body scars, let me gobble you up. Be nice to me, be mean, pick me up, throw me around, whatever just manhandle me and fold me in half however you like, haha. Give me arms thicker than my head and pecks bigger than my tits. Rough looking face, mean stares, sharp eyes, fuck me like you hate me upps- So manly and strong, mean and indifferent to everyone but protecting me and treating me like a pricess? Let's gooo. So stoic and emotionless, but I'll make you feel things don't you worry. ....black cat boyfriend??....

First person that comes to mind is Choso, so here's some pent-up Choso thoughts:

TW: smut and fluff, size kink, oral (f. receiving), period sex and oral, manhandling, breeding kink

Choso x f!reader

<3masterlist<3

!!MDNI!!

Choso, who looks so intimidating at first, but let's you do his hair in cute styles when you're alone with him.

Choso who looks just as pretty with his hair down as with any other hairstyle.��

Choso who sometimes doesn't understand how strong he actually is when he picks you up with ease or bends you into any position he likes.

Choso who could crush you to death with those huge arms and big hands, but still tries to be gentle and loving.

His calloused fingers swiping over your skin feel like heaven, especially when they have your tits between them while he's pounding into you.

Choso developing an obvious size kink when he first saw you. Oh, and how it solidified when he first held your soft body against his toned and hard one. After comparing his hands to yours and seeing just how much bigger he was than you in general, he was hooked. His body was a stark contrast to yours, it was rough and firm. He had a few scars running over his skin, which you thought were so beautiful and hot. You couldn't stop your fingers from running along the lines at every chance you got. His sheer mass made your mouth water and knees weak.

He was indifferent about a lot of things, but definitely not you. Choso who's always laid back and nonchalant, but steps up if someone dares to even just look at you in an unpleasant way. And he will always be there to protect his precious girl from all harm this world might throw at her.

It took a lot of convincing to get him to be meaner and rougher, because he's afraid he might actually hurt you (jokes on him, you're into that). Soon getting the hang of it and losing all restraints after seeing how you turn to putty in his hands. Seeing you react and moan at his every move made him crave more. Seeing how much wetter you got whenever he was nasty with you made him go crazy. Adjusting to your every need and kink felt like second nature. Positions? Any and every. I'm telling ya he will try every single one out with you. Just say the word and he's yours. He loved seeing you on all fours with your plump ass hitting against his hips. He loved feeling your soft tummy jiggle against his touch whenever he fucked you while you were spooning. And he loved seeing your face contort in pleasure when he hit the right spot when your legs were slung over his broad shoulders. In short, he loved every detail, because it was you. He was so eager to please you.

Breeding you at every chance he got quickly became one of his favourite activities. Seeing his cum drip out of your every hole ignited something carnal in him. And the thought of seeing you plump up with his child almost made him lose his mind.

Choso, who's not afraid of blood, gobbling and filling you up real good even if you're on your period. Always looking forward to your period and getting lost in your scent and taste when he finally gets between your legs. Your plush thighs feel heavenly around his head as they twitch and squeeze him tighter whenever he makes you cum with just his mouth.

You were blown away when he first went down on you. His tongue and fingers were working you open just right, skillfully sucking and licking you through your highs.

"Fuck. How are you so good at this?", you huffed, hair sticking to your forehead. He was a man of few words so he just smiled and made you cum again and again.

Speaking of smile, you swore your heart started to melt when you first made him smile at you. His smiles were so pretty and reserved for your eyes only. And when you heard him laugh oh so genuinely, you knew you were in love.

He was sooo cute whenever he played along your shenanigans. Duality of a man, one moment he's bending you over, fucking you like he hates you and the next he's hugging and kissing you through giggles like he wouldn't hurt a fly.

------

Haaaaa, don't mind me. I'm just chilling in my horny puddle. 🫠 Late night Choso thoughts *sigh* I definitely want to write more for him, so if you have any suggestions, hit me up!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit in silence next to the large, brooding man. You’ve heard of Steve Rogers before. Who hasn’t around these parts. You’re not a local, you moved here for the work. The job description didn’t exactly mention the state of the neighbourhood. 

You see the men in their tailored-suits, puffing on cigars, laughing, even cat-calling you as you pass. That’s just the city, you assumed. That was until you really started to notice the men. When you saw the tinted windows tailing the erratically driven beater cars or the shadows creeping around in the early hours outside your building. 

You keep to yourself. You’re just a visitor to this world. You have no plans to stay in it. 

He doesn’t say a word as he drives. You stare out the window. It’s like that awkward first date you went on as a teen with your stepfather’s co-op volunteer. Except worse. You have no idea what exactly this is. You try not to think about it or you might hyperventilate. 

He slows at a sign and you keep your gaze out the window. The city streets are clear and sunny despite the gloom in the car. You think back on the brief conversation between him and Brenner. He seemed irked by more than your upstart boss. ‘Engagement’... something happened there but you learn from the mistakes of others. Don’t ask. 

As Rogers taps the gas, a man in a hoodie dodges out in front of the car. The brakes lock and the man in the driver seat mutters. The jaywalker looks over and laughs, stopping to make a show as he taunts the driver. He sucks in and horks a wad of phlegm onto the windshield. 

Oh shit. 

You stare in shock. What the heck? You’ve met your fair share of wildcards in this city but you simply keep your head down and keep going. Not Rogers. 

He shifts into park. He’s still silent. He calmly undoes his seat belt and checks the traffic behind him. He gets out as the walk-by spitter continues across the street. The man doesn’t make it as he’s caught from behind and thrown onto the tarmac. 

Without hesitation, Rogers kicks the man’s side, then his stomach as the force of the first rolls him over. He continues his assault with a stony look on his face. His eyes are determined and his chin is set, but no furrow and scowl breaks his veneer. 

You watch as a swirling sensation stirs in your stomach and quickly invades your head. You don’t like violence and this is such an overreaction, you can hardly believe it’s real. It very much is. 

You can’t help the squeak that escapes you as Rogers bends over the man and grabs his skull between his hands. He smashes his face down into the street and you close your eyes. Oh god. This can’t be real. 

Your open your eyes to the ripple of reality. Others watch in a similar awe from the pavement. Drivers idle nearby. A police officer walks by and simply ignore the scene as Rogers stomps the man one last time. 

Fear courses through you. What did Brenner get you into? Why did you just go along with this? Your passivity was always bound to get you in trouble. 

You feel your body slacken as he stands straight and smooths his jacket. You slump in the seat and your eyes roll back as a wave of black specks invades your vision. Your chest feels ready to burst, your head too as you sink into oblivion. 

When you come to, the car is moving again. You lurch forward as the motion flips your stomach. You grunt and try to shake of the disorientation. You put your hand on the dash and gulp in air. 

“You fainted,” Rogers says dully. 

You blink and turn to look at him. You slowly sit back, “yeah, I did. Sorry.” 

He doesn’t offer any other comment. You don’t know what to say or do. You’re embarrassed at how you just passed out but you didn’t really have a choice. You’ve never seen anything like that. And now this man, who can light up like a match, 

“What kinda person...” you begin and flinch at your own voice, “just spits on someone’s car like that?” 

You swallow dryly at your redirection. Sometimes, your thoughts bubble through too quickly but you caught yourself. You think. 

He glances over at you then back to the road. 

“Yeah, like,” you ramble, your nerves bouncing off each other, “if I had a nice car, or a car at all, I’d be mad too. That’s not... cool.” 

You cross your arms as if you’re holding yourself together. You lean back and stare at the road. You’re too afraid to look at Rogers. He can probably hear your fear in your voice. 

“Right, that guy deserved it.” He says. “Got no idea what I’m dealing with. Don’t need that.” 

You nod and meter out a breath, “totally.” 

He grunts. You think he bought it. At least, he knows you’re too scared to tell him your real thoughts if he doesn’t. 

He drives on wordlessly. He’s tense, you’re tense. Everything is tense. 

You glance over at his knuckles as he grips the wheel tight. They’re bruised and there’s a bit of blood on the middle one. Your mind is racing. You see his fists flashing. This man is a maniac. 

“That must hurt,” you say. 

“Huh?” He utters. 

“Your hands.” You don’t know why you’re talking but if you sit there in silence any longer, you’re going to lose your mind.  

He shrugs, “don’t feel it right away.” 

“Right, right, of course, makes sense,” you accept, “I wouldn’t know. I never... whatever. Sorry, I’m going to be quiet.” 

You look out the window and focus on the buildings instead. Just don’t look at him. If you don’t, he can’t hurt you. Like the boogeyman. 

“I’m fine,” he says after a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

You nod and keep your eyes aimed out at the sidewalk. You’re not really worried about him. You’re worried about you. Well, you’ll just be sure to stay on his good side. 

[tayraedoll]

My Compliments to the Chef

The smutty and soft finale of the series. MDNI 18+ only

Part 1

Part 2

TW: Smut, P in V intercourse, fingering, oral-female receiving with mentions of male receiving, sensory deprivation, self-consciousness, reader is uncomfortable in her own skin, body scars, body worship, hurt/comfort, fluff

Alastor advanced on you slowly, the famished look never leaving his eyes, he reminded you of a cat that finally cornered the mouse it was hunting. For every one of his steps forward you had to take two back to keep the distance between you even. You eventually ran out of floorspace when the backs of your knees hit his bed, with you effectively trapped the demon was quick to close the distance completely.

He grabbed you by your jaw, holding your face up so he could press his lips to yours again. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him. His free hand wrapped around your waist in a vice grip like he was afraid you'd run away if he let you go. He released your lips with a 'pop' to trail his lips down the your exposed throat, nipping the skin to leave little love marks. When the hand on your waist started to dip under your shirt you violently jumped to the side to put space between you once more.

For a moment Alastor stood stock still, the position making it look like he was holding an invisible person. He blinked a couple of times before straightening up and looking at you quizzically, wondering if he had read you wrong. His head cocked to the side, carefully scrutinizing your body language.

Your heart hammered away in your chest, you bit the inside of your lip as you tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself. Being with Alastor in this way was thrilling, but even the excitement of the moment wasn't enough to quell the insecurities that were screaming at you.

When you finally composed yourself you gave him an apologetic look, "I am so sorry. I-It's just that...", you trailed of as you looked down, trying to find the right words to explain yourself.

Long fingers hooked under your chin again to make you look up at his face, "My Dear, my sincerest apologies if I overstepped-"

"No! No, it's not that. Um.. it's my scars. They don't end at at my arms, they are kind of all over. I...I'm not exactly pretty to look at", your voice trailed off, becoming a whisper at the end. You looked over at the fireplace to avoid his eyes staring down at you as tears welled up in your own.

Alastor let go of you and backed away. You had to suppress a sob; here it was, the rejection you were so terrified of.

The rustle of fabric caught your attention, Alastor was laying his coat across the his bed; he then stared right at you as he pulled at his bow tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Nimble fingers slowly started to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Al...what are you doing?", you asked completely bewildered. Part of you wanted to look away- the intense look in his eyes, how his chest fluff slowly came into view in such a sensual manner- it was almost too much, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him.

After releasing the final button of his shirt, Alastor painstakingly slowly pushed it off his shoulders and revealed his bare torso to you. You gasped, a hand flying up to your mouth as you took the sight of him in. His black arms and tawny body were littered in scars; unlike yours, his scars disfigured the skin where it ripped apart and sewn itself back together. One long gash made its way from his right hip to left shoulder- the wound Adam gave him in the battle at the hotel. Your feet carried you over to him before you were conscious of the movement, hand raised in front of you as it hovered above his chest seeking permission to touch.

His hand grasped yours before you could make contact, vulnerability flashed briefly across his face before it hardened into a more determined expression. He slowly brought your hand to the space where his heart was enclosed in his sternum, resting your palm on the mended skin of the axe wound. "We all have our insecurities Dear, not a single one of us is immune to the judgements our minds cast upon us." His eyes stared intently into yours, watching as tears formed and slowly fell down your cheeks. This wound must have been excruciating; it looked so large and deep, it was a miracle he survived it.

You finally ripped your eyes from the scar to look back up at him, his expression was a mixture of uncertainty, desperation, and primal hunger. A new determination settled in your mind, your dried your tears with your hand that was not touching him and stepped fully into his space leaving just an inch between you two. Your fingers ghosted over his skin, feather-light caresses applied to each of the scars you could see. Some were raised and rough to the touch, while others were smooth and shiny; the muscles underneath would twitch with each new blemish you stroked.

One finger remained on his body as you lazily walked around him to his back. You were met with the same myriad of cicatrices forming constellations across his dorsum. You felt braver without his eyes being able to stare you down from here, after each stroke of your finger you planted a chaste kiss to the marking.

You heard the gasp he made the first time you pressed your lips to his body, a small smile gracing your face at being able to elicit such a response from The Radio Demon with your gentle affections. After revering every scar across his being you finally came back to face him, your heart skipping a beat when he immediately close his arms around you and pulling you into a needy kiss.

Alastor's fingers grabbed your hips and he slowly spun you around so your back was to him. Opening your eyes, you were met with a mirror that had magically appeared out of nowhere. You met Alastor's eyes in the reflection as he leaned in to whisper in your ear "Allow me to show you just how transcendent you truly are."

He snapped his fingers, but your vision didn't go black as you expected it would. Instead, you were ushered into a world of total silence. Your wide eyes locked onto crimson orbs as his red claws slowly lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes never left yours even as he unclasped your bra. You struggled to resist the urge to cover your breasts, swallowing hard as every imperfection was revealed to the mirror.

His hand collected yours and raised it to his lips, tender kisses were pressed to your knuckles before he flipped your hand over to gently nip at the pulse point of your wrist. A gasp ripped out of your throat at the sensation, your eyes flying shut. His lips stilled completely, all sensation coming to an abrupt halt. You peaked an eye open, Alastor was watching you with a patient yet disapproving gaze. Once your eyes met his he slid his lips up your forearm, nipping and kissing along the borders of your reddened skin. Anytime you averted your gaze from his ministrations he would completely stop until your eyes found his again.

When he finished pecking and nipping your arm he moved across your shoulders, meeting your neck where he used his cheek to push your head to the side to grant him access. By now heat was pooling in your belly; your thighs rubbed together as subtly as you could as your abdomen clenched with every graze of his teeth on your skin. By the time he reached your other wrist you were certain your panties were ruined.

Looking in the mirror now you could barely recognize yourself; your lips parted in an "O" as soft whimpers and pants left your throat, eyes glazed over and half-lidded. You had never seen yourself look so fucked out and he hadn't even touched you in a sexual way yet.

His fingers ran down your ribs and across your abdomen, meeting right below your navel to unbutton your jeans. He pulled both your pants and panties down your legs slowly until you could step out of them. Your cheeks heated up as you stood naked in front of the mirror, the predatory eyes of the demon behind you raked over your form greedily.

One of his hands came around you again, a curious finger dipping into your folds. Your body jolted, back arching and hips pushing into his touch. You let out a mewl you could not hear as your head flew back and hit the demon's chest, your eyes closing on instinct. Just like before, Alastor's movements stilled as soon as your eyes left the mirror.

His other hand crept up the back of your head, tangling into your hair and forcing your head back up but you kept your eyes closed. Displeased, Alastor leaned forward and bit your ear just hard enough for it to sting. It elicited his desired affect as your eyes flew open once again. He subtly shook his head at you as his hand tightened in your hair- you would not be turning away from the mirror again. Just as you resigned to your fate the claw in your folds reminded you of its presence as it circled around your clit.

You bit your lip, using all your willpower to keep your attention on yourself in the mirror. The claw circled your bundle of nerves faster and faster, your wines silent to your own ears as your hips started to buck into his hand. Your eyes were now glued to the way his dexterous digits played with your nub.

A finger slipped inside of you quickly followed by a second, his thumb still applying delicious pressure to your clit. His pace picked up, fingers curling inside you to hit that spongy spot that nearly had your knees buckling under you. In the mirror you could see that your face was flushed, beads of sweat broke out across your forehead, your chest heaved with every breath. Your vision went white as you clamped down on his fingers, lips parted in a scream as Alastor watched you unravel at his hands.

A low chuckle alerted you that your hearing had been restored. When your vision re-focused the mirror was gone and you were laying in bed with Alastor hovering over you. You took the chance to allow your eyes to roam over his body- lean muscle, chiseled abdomen, a deep v-line at his hips, and a fucking monster of a cock ready to impale you. Your eyes blew wide open as he lowered himself down on you to leave love nips down the column of your throat; his member sliding through your folds and collecting your slick.

"Al-Alastor," your body trembled, "I haven't slept with anyone since I died and there is no way I will fit all of you inside me!"

"Hmm," Alastor hummed completely unconcerned, "you can, and you will My Dear." His arms reached down and hooked your knees with the crook his of elbows, effectively spreading you wide open for him and leaving no way for you to push him away from your core as he slowly sunk into you inch by inch.

You choked as the intrusion stole the air from your lungs, your nails digging into his shoulders as you instinctively tried to push him back to no avail. It stung slightly as your walls struggled to accommodate him, the full feeling overwhelming at first. He stilled once he was buried to the hilt, giving you time to get accustomed to the sensation. Your breath came in short gasps as your legs shook vigourously in his hold; it felt like he was buried in your guts, his tip pushed flush against your cervix. "Relax Mon Cher, I won't push you beyond what you can take," he peppered chaste kisses across your cheekbones as your breathing evened out, the full feeling becoming more pleasant than intrusive.

Once your walls relaxed around him the buck started to slowly rock his hips in shallow thrusts. Pain quickly gave way to pleasure and a lewd moan fell from your lips as your walls fluttered, his pelvis grinding into your nub perfectly with each thrust.

"That's it Dear, such a good girl- taking me so well. See? I knew you were an expert at handling meat", Alastor growled at you, biting down on your neck just below your ear. You whimpered, his cock catching your entrance with every thrust forward and bullying that spongy spot. His arms lifted your legs higher towards your chest, you couldn't be spread open any further. Your Overlord lover licked the bruise he gave you, it would be impossible for you to hide without a scarf.

The coil in your core tightened, your legs quivering uncontrollably as your toes curled. Your nails raked down his back desperate to ground yourself amongst the pleasure; you idly wondered if you could leave scars of your own along his spine.

His pace turned absolutely bruising as he chased your collective releases. "Tu es parfait, si délicieux, mon petit chef."

His cockhead rammed into your cervix like he was trying to bust through it. A scream of intense pleasure ripped out your throat as the coil finally snapped, sending a flood of arousal out of your cunt. Alastor watched your face contort with your orgasm and committed the stunning sight to his memory. His own release surged into your fluttering cunt with a groan, his forehead falling onto yours, your breaths mixing together as you both basked in post-coital bliss.

"La mesure de l'amour, c'est d'aimer sans mesure", he whispered before giving you one more deep and sensual kiss.

"You know I don't speak French right? I have no idea what you've been saying", you giggled when he pulled away.

"Hmm, I will teach you some day My Dear. For now, let's just enjoy this moment shall we?", he rolled over and draped you across his chest. You snuggled into his chest fluff, inhaling the smell of sex and Alastor's musky scent as you drifted off. Right before you fell into unconsciousness you heard "Je t'aime".

You smiled- you knew that one, "I love you too."

Alastor awakened with a start-something was wrong. He reached out for you only for the space you had occupied to be vacant and cold. He shot up, looking around the room but saw no sign of you. The clock on the wall read 4:30 AM, Alastor got out of bed to search for you- had you gone back to your own room? If so, why?

He snapped his fingers to quickly dress himself, only for his chest to remain bare. His shirt was not with his other clothes...your clothes were still littered across his floor however. Alastor hummed at this clue, he'd either find you in his shirt or you'd be roaming the hotel naked.

He felt secure enough to shadow travel without covering his upper body, it was so early in the morning no one would be roaming the halls at this time except the two of you. He checked your room first but quickly moved on when he found no sign you'd been there for hours- probably since you woke up the previous morning.

The next most obvious room to investigate was the kitchen. The demon cursed himself for not preparing his room for your activities, surely you woke up thirsty and had to trudge all the way to the kitchen for water if you didn't wake him up. He would correct that egregious oversight on his part promptly.

The demon stopped dead in his tracks as he manifested at the kitchen door. The radio was playing a modern "pop" song he was unfamiliar with and your sweet voice was singing along to it. Slowly, he approached the kitchen and leaned a shoulder against the door frame as he took in the scene before him.

You were practically dancing around the kitchen in nothing but his shirt (which comically came down to your knees), singing your heart out to a song about two lovers whose passion burned so intensely it was like fire on fire. You flitted between the hot stove and the various spices on the counter, so absorbed in your task you hadn't noticed the 7-foot-tall deer demon in the doorway.

Alastor watched you with a soft smile on his face, his heart swelling in his chest. He recognized the spices you had out- all the staples of a traditional cajun seasoning. When you added them to your dish he noticed that you never measured any of them, letting your sense of smell guide the spice profile of the food. A bottle of his favorite bourbon also sat on the counter, no doubt if he checked the hotel bar he'd find that Husk was missing that bottle of whiskey.

You mixed the alcohol into a pan, causing a small flame to rise that you expertly handled while spinning the bottle in your free hand like he would his cane. Alastor chuckled at your theatrics, you hadn't noticed him yet so he knew you were showing off for yourself. Soon enough, the mouth-watering aroma of cayenne, garlic, and pork wafted into the air. The Overlord's heart soared when you brought the dish together- cajun pork chops with a bourbon glaze and a vegetable medley of brussel sprouts, zucchini, and peppers. He was approaching you before was aware he was moving.

You startled at his sudden appearance, hand clutching the buttons at your chest, "Sweet Satan Al, please give me some kind of warning before you just waltz on in like that!"

"Apologies My Dear, I did not mean to scare you. However, I am curious, what brings you to the kitchen at this hour?", he stood just inches from you, heart about to beat out of his chest if his suspicions proved to be correct.

"Well-uhh," your face turned beet red and you looked down at the food bashfully, "I guess I was just feeling inspired and couldn't get this creation out of my head. So I needed to find out if I could pull it off."

"The pork chops, that's your signature dish is it not?"

You nodded your head, shyly looking back up at him, "I added a twist to it though."

He reached a hand out to cup your cheek, moving so his chest pressed to yours, "You changed your signature dish...for me? You fused our cooking together." It was not a question, the declaration sat there on a plate in front of him.

"Yes", your answering whisper was just barely audible but it was all the confirmation he needed. You squealed when his hands hooked around your thighs and sat you down on the countertop, his shirt riding up your thighs. He immediately pressed his lips to yours and demanded entry into your mouth with his tongue.

After several minutes of making out like lovesick teenagers, Alastor pulled away to inspect the plate, "It would be a shame to let this all go to waste."

He ran a claw through the glaze, but instead of bringing it to his mouth as you expected he painted it over your neck. Before you had the chance to object to having the sticky sauce on your skin he licked a wide stripe up your throat, cleaning it of all the dressing. He had to admit you did a phenomenal job of balancing the bitter bourbon with sweet brown sugar...and it complimented the taste of your skin incredibly well.

You moaned as you threw your head back, elongating your throat for him. His hands gripped onto each side of your (his) shirt and tore it apart sending buttons flying in every direction. "Alastor! Someone can come in and catch us!", you shrieked as you scrambled to cover yourself again.

Alastor was having none of it and promptly caught your wrists and pinned them against the cabinets above you. "Poppycock Darling, no one will be awake for hours yet. Now, lets enjoy this meal you so artfully crafted shall we?"

He used the glaze to paint more trails across your body- starting at your throat and going down through the valley between your breasts, down your navel, and multiple strokes on your inner thighs. "My, my Mon Cher. You are the most delectable meal I have ever laid eyes on. Care if I have a little nibble?" He didn't wait for your answer as he dove down, licking up every drop of sauce and leaving bites along the way. You bit down on your hand to stop from screaming out a moan when he bit down on your breast just hard enough to leave teeth marks.

He pushed your thighs apart to make room for himself as he settled on his knees before you. His tongue ran up each thigh as slowly as he could restrain himself to. "Your glaze was perfect my dear, but I am looking forward to tasting a different coulis from you."

He pressed the flat of his tongue to your thigh and licked all the way up to your core. The second his tongue made contact with your folds you jolted, crying out in sheer ecstasy as your legs clamped shut on his head. He tutted at you disapprovingly and summoned his shadows to hold your knees as far apart as they'd go. Satisfied with your position, he dove back in, leaving kitten licks on your clit before sucking on it harshly.

You fought to hold in a high-pitched keen, fisting one hand in his hair and using the other to hold one the top cabinets for balance. Alastor’s hands locked around your hips in a bruising grip and slid you forward so your ass was just barely on the counter anymore, the only reason you were still precariously perched there was his tight hold and his shadows holding your legs.

Alastor let go of your clit to plunge his tongue deep into your drenched hole. One hand let go of your hip to begin making tight circles around your nub as his tongue searched for that special spot that made your vision spotty. His efforts were rewarded when your body convulsed, back arching and pushing your pelvis into his face when he found it.

He didn't let up for a second, he doubled-down on his efforts- tongue bullying your spongy walls repeatedly while his thumb pressed harder and harder circles to your clit. The pressure built up quickly, tears forming in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your moans as to not wake anyone. You bit your bottom lip a little too harshly, a droplet of blood trailing down your chin.

The sight made Alastor go feral, with a guttural growl he removed his tongue from you pushed three fingers inside to take it's place, instantly setting a brutal pace. His mouth turned back to your pearl, sucking it harshly and using his upper fangs to pinch it ever so lightly.

The pleasure, the pain, the sheer ferocity sent you catapulting over the edge; you couldn't help but to let out a blood-curdling scream that a shadow quickly muffled by clamping over your mouth. Your walls squeezed his fingers like a vice, trapping him within you while his tongue soothed your bundle of nerves and helped you ride out your orgasm.

Once your body released his fingers, he brought his thumb up to capture the blood on your jaw. Keeping his eyes on yours, he made a lewd show of licking his fingers clean of your slick and blood.

"My compliments to the chef My Dear!", he chuckled to himself as you caught your breath. He gingerly set you back down on the floor, allowing you to use him for balance as your legs wobbled.

You took a look at the plate, only the glaze eaten,"Well, since you said this shouldn't go to waste I suppose I will finish it." You picked up the plate and a fork, wrapped Alastor's shirt back around yourself, and began trekking towards the staircase.

"And where do you think you are going Mon Cher?"

"Back to your room. I heard you call me an expert meat handler yesterday, figured I should show you just how well I can truly handle my meat", you made a show of pushing your fork into your mouth suggestively, giving him a wink before turning on your heal and taking off.

Alastor stood there dumbfounded for just a second before a smug smirk split his face. With a snap he melted into the shadows to chase after you; a paper fluttering to the countertop to let Charlie know that both chefs would be preoccupied for the day. All he planned to devour this day was you.

Thanks for reading! This was such as fun piece to write, I hope you enjoyed it!

Here is the song that reader was singing as she was cooking:

Tags:

@voxslays

@ladyadrasteia666

@angeldustharmony

@milkissesx

@shealizxx

@sh3sa1dwhat

@littlebluefishtail

@ustulia

@christinebloodwrittings

@alastorsgirl48

@shea4u

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Unexpected Connections

Pairing → Neighbor! Bucky Barnes x Neighbor! Fem! Reader

Total Wordcount → 1.9K

Summary → Living next to the one and only Bucky Barnes and the cutest cat you've ever seen has its upsides, and when he asks you to come along to one of the parties Tony throws, you're about to find out just how good the perks can be.

Tags & Warnings → Mostly canon compliant, neighbor au, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Civilian Reader, Bucky's past is referenced a few times, occasional use of Y/N, fluff, first meetings.

Author's Note → Hi, and welcome to my first story for Bucky! I'm pretty excited to have been working on a story for him, as he's been my favorite since I joined the fandom of the MCU a few years back. I hope you will enjoy this story, and I'm looking forward to creating more and reading everything you all have made, as well.

Bucky Barnes - a former assassin who was brainwashed and used as a weapon, Avenger, and the best cat dad and neighbor you could have ever wished for - is someone you never thought you'd get close to. Not only do you live completely different lives, but you're also socializing in entirely different circles. Despite this, the universe had its plan ready when he moved into the apartment next to yours a little over six months ago.

It's been a few days since your new neighbor moved in, and even though the two of you have run into each other a few times, you never got more than a 'hello' out of him. Today, you're going to his apartment with some of your famous chocolate chip cookies. After checking yourself in your hallway mirror one last time, you grab your keys and the cookie container, ready to introduce yourself.

When you're at his door, you knock a few times, and before you can even think about what could happen, the front door opens, and you're met by a sight you only have ever seen in your wildest dreams. A tall, broad man opened the door while holding a stark white cat in his arms - one of them being a prosthetic, based on its black and gold color. His hair is neatly trimmed, and his beard has undergone the same treatment. What you notice most of all, though, is how his blue eyes are roaming over your face in a questioning way, making you feel a bit nervous.

"Hi, uhm, I am here to welcome you to the building! I'm your next-door neighbor, Y/N Y/L/N, and I brought some cookies for you to enjoy as a gift. Though if I had known you had a cat, I would have made a little treat for them, too," you say, internally chastising yourself for saying something so weird.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N; I'm Bucky and this—" he raises the cat with his arm "—is Alpine, though she already gets plenty of treats from me, so don't worry about that," he says with a small smile. While he wasn't having a particularly good day today, his mood shifted slightly when he saw you.

A soft meow follows his comment as she looks up at her owner as if trying to disagree with him, making you smile at the scene unfolding in front of you. Then, you reach out the Tupperware container with the cookies, and he accepts with a small smile and a soft 'thank you' before you head back. The click of his front door behind you lets you know he went back inside.

Since that meeting, Bucky quickly warmed up to you and your enthusiasm about the things you love. It only took a few weeks for him to open up about his work as an Avenger - which had you gasping loudly - and that he might be gone for weeks on end. That night, you offered to take care of Alpine in his absence, and when she approved of you as well, Bucky was happy to become friends with you.

"Doll?" Bucky asks as he's grabbing a drink from his fridge for you. He just returned from a mission when he found you napping on his couch with Alpine in your arms. You woke up not long ago, but he returned and didn't wake you.

"What do you think of going to one of Tony's parties with me this upcoming Sunday? If you're free, of course," he says with a small smile. He's aware your schedule can be unpredictable at times, with your job at the local bookstore and your volunteer work at the animal shelter, and always wants to make sure you have time to go anywhere together.

"That would be amazing, Bucky! Meeting the Avengers, having fun while getting free drinks, and spending time with you?! There's nothing better if you ask me," you say with a broad smile, which is infectious as Bucky agrees. It would be amazing if you could come with him.

"Okay, I will ask Ms. Jones to watch Alpine for the night then. I was initially going to ask you, but I figured a night with the Avengers would be a lot more fun than to be stuck here with this little goofball," he jokes as he sits down next to you, though she doesn't even open an eye to look at him as he does.

"I don't know, spending nights with Alpine is always fun, too," you tell your neighbor with a giant smile as you pet the white feline's back, her purring intensifying with every passing minute. Your smile is infectious, as Bucky can feel the corners of his mouth curling up, too.

It's the night of Tony's party, and you're ready to go as you hear a knock on your front door, letting you know Bucky is here to pick you up. After his invite, you went out to get a simple black dress that shows off your curves just the way you like, and your hair and make-up are kept simple, as you've never been one to go over the top with things like that.

As you open the door, Bucky can't help but let his gaze wander over your body, making the butterflies in your stomach go wild as he does. While you and Bucky don't have any interest in each other romantically - with him having a crush on his fellow Avenger, Steve, being proof of that - he can appreciate the beauty of women, and this moment isn't any different.

"You look stunning, Doll," Bucky says, and you can't help but smile as you take a moment to take in his outfit, too. He chose a black suit and a golden bowtie, matching his arm.

"You're not bad-looking yourself, either," you say before grabbing your keys and leaving your apartment. The Uber he ordered is already waiting for you two, and he opens the door for you like a true gentleman. When you're seated, he quickly walks around and gets in himself, ready to be brought to the party.

"What's on your mind?" Bucky asks as he looks over at you. Your nerves are clearly visible as you look out the window, and you're clutching your bag for dear life.

"Well, I- uhm... I'm a bit scared they won't like me," you confess as you cast your eyes down to where your hands are in your lap, holding onto the bag to ground yourself. Before saying anything, Bucky grabs one of your hands, making you look up at him.

"Y/N, I can promise you that there is not a single world in which they would not like you. If I'm being honest, you're an absolute ray of sunshine in your day-to-day life, and I cannot wait to share your happiness and kindness with them. I understand the nerves, but you got me to love you, so I'm positive the others are going to love you as well," he says, his blue eyes looking into yours with a soft gaze.

As he tells you this, you can feel the nerves in your stomach settle down immensely. The rest of the drive goes by so quickly that you don't even realize you're there until you see a bunch of flashing lights from the paparazzi at the party, and Bucky is already on his way out of the car to open your car door.

"Ready?" he asks as he extends his Vibranium hand, and you put your hand in his, ready to get out and into the party. He quickly leads you past the paparazzi, and once you're inside, Bucky immediately spots his best friend and crush - the one and only Captain America, aka Steve Rogers.

"Hi," Bucky says shyly as Steve embraces him, and you can't help but smile at this sweet side of Bucky. While they share some small talk, you look around, trying to see if you can recognize any of the other Avengers, but so far, you have only found Steve.

"You must be Y/N; Bucky speaks very highly of you," Steve says with a bright smile and kind eyes, and you nod as you can feel your cheeks heating up once again. His hand feels very large compared to yours and warmer than you're used to, but Bucky has explained that the super soldier serum raises their body temperature, which is why he's never cold.

"It's very nice to meet you, Steve. I have heard a lot about you from Bucky, both from the 30s and 40s, as well as what you two get up to now," you tell him, and this time it's Steve's turn to blush. Before he can answer, you're suddenly approached by a woman in a long red dress and fiery red hair: Black Widow.

"I was wondering when we would meet you—the sweet, caring neighbor he can't stop talking about," Natasha says with a smirk as she shakes your hand. Something about her immediately piques your interest.

"Bucky can't seem to shut up about you, so I'm happy to see that you actually exist," she says with a wink to Bucky, who rolls his eyes before ordering some drinks.

"I'm happy to hear that Bucky has already informed you about me; it makes me feel good that I'm worth talking about," you tell her honestly, and she smiles at your words. Sometimes, you wish to shut up with your blunt honesty for a moment, but it doesn't matter with Natasha. She enjoys people who say what they think.

"Have you met the others yet? Maybe Bucky could help you find the rest and introduce you," she offers, and your neighbor and friend nods with a smile before offering his arm, through which you hook yours. Before you know it, you've met Clint, Bruce, and Thor, who couldn't stop complimenting you, so the only person that's left is Tony Stark himself.

"Is this real? Am I going to meet Iron Man himself?" you ask Bucky with excitement dripping from your entire being, and he hums in approval. You spot the man you're looking for quickly, as he's always a significant presence in every room he's in. As you approach him, your heartbeat rises steadily until it feels like it's beating out of your chest.

"Well, who do we have here? If I'm not mistaken, you're the only Y/N Y/L/N," Tony says in his smooth voice, and the butterflies in your stomach go wild. He always has this effect on women, and you're most certainly not immune to it when he gently grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

"H-hi! Yes, that's me," you tell him with a broad smile, which he reciprocates in his typical manner that melts hearts and ruins panties everywhere he goes.

"It's an honor to meet you, and I hope Bucky will treat you right tonight. Now, go and have fun, you two," he says before being pulled away, leaving you with wobbly knees from the excitement coursing through your entire body.

"I can't believe it, Bucky, I've met the Avengers! Me, a simple human, meeting the Avengers of all people! I can't believe it," you tell him excitedly, your pace of speaking rapidly increasing as you get increasingly excited about what has just happened.

"You're not just a simple human, Doll; you're the best neighbor and friend anyone could wish for, and I'm happy you're here tonight," he says before guiding you to the bar, ready for the rest of your evening to start. The entire time, you're made to feel welcomed by everyone, and you couldn't imagine a better first meeting than the one you've had today - apart from the one you had with Bucky, that is.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes masterlist

GIF: Source → All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

If you'd like to be tagged in future stories, add yourself to my tag list here.

[mymegrokosmos]

boyfriend san drabble bc if i see one more photo of this man driving i am going to go insane about it.

soft sannie, oral (m. rec), mentions of fingering (f. rec), a little nsfw, semi-public. some minor hand kink brainrot about a soft little cat man.

your morning started out the same as it always does on the weekend. woken early to san pulling you in against his chest for his five more minutes of cuddles before he got up, arm snug around your waist as his nose nuzzles against the back of your neck. groggy i love you's murmured between butterfly kisses pressed over your face before he left for the gym and you slipped back into sleep again.

usually on saturdays you'd wake up sometime around 10, while he was mid-session, and take your time running through your weekly routine. hot shower and full body shave, styling your hair before you change into your favourite cozy pyjama set and cook you both up a homemade breakfast.

today your boyfriend had other ideas. he'd left for the gym earlier than usual, and by the time you climbed out of the warm duvet burrito san had tucked you into with a forehead kiss before he went he was sweeping back into the bedroom dropping his gym bag by the door and pulling you in by the waist to steal a flurry of kisses, leaving you giggling.

"san."

"y/n."

"you're all sweaty."

"you usually like that."

his cute smile should be at odds with the flushed face and wide shoulders on display under the black tank top. the dimples got you every time but it was unfair for a man, or anyone really, to look so pretty after an hour of weight lifting. you reached up to cup his face, thumb brushing lightly over one sharp cheekbone as his eyes crinkled into crescents to match the wide smile on his face.

"sannie."

"shower with me?" his expression was hopeful as his arms slid around your waist to hold you against him. "I know you usually like to take your time on the weekend but I'd like to take you to brunch today."

his touch was gentle and you found yourself smiling as you leaned up, hand on one thick bicep to brace yourself, to kiss him softly. "you just want to keep cuddling."

"i always want to keep cuddling."

you laughed as he squished his cheek against yours, squeezing you and stepping back to throw his gym clothes in the hamper. you watched as he stepped out of the sweatpants and muscle tee, just admiring how graceful he was as his muscles flexed.

he caught your gaze, eyebrows quirking as he smiled proudly. you laughed and shook your head, making your way over to grab the hamper as he sauntered off to the bathroom to get the shower started.

the interruption of your usual routine was welcome and still fairly soft, as san often was, until it came time for brunch. he shouldn't look so good in a simple oversized t-shirt and track pants. or at least, you should be used to it by now. when he slips on the backwards baseball cap you don't even blink. when he slides on his bracelets and rings, maybe you're paying a little more attention than usual but you brush it off. you can think about his hands later.

until you get into the car, and you glance over from buckling yourself in to catch the way he grips the wheel. you can hold back until after brunch, you tell yourself, as he pulls out of the parking lot and one hand comes to rest on his thigh. you manage to fall back into the normal flow of conversation until the hand on your thigh comes up to brace you when he makes a sudden stop, apologizing and peeking over to check that you're okay.

"I'm good sannie, it's okay. It wasn't your fault."

you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers and squeezing lightly as he navigates through the next set of lights. you're already distracted by the softness of his skin and the cool metal of his rings. he hums softly and you lean forward to flick the radio on, hoping maybe some music will help wash the thoughts you're having about the veins in his arm and the way his watch bounces on his wrist as he untangles your fingers to shift gears. he doesn't always drive a manual but you like how easy he makes it look to switch between the gear shift and the grip he usually likes to keep on your thigh.

way his hand brushes against your nape as he rests his arm over the passenger seat while parallel parking is the final straw. his fingers are warm as they touch the side of your neck and he's too busy checking for cars as his head turns to see the way you swallow. he shifts the car into park and you lean over to pull up the emergency brake, wasting no time unbuckling yourself.

san chuckles softly at your haste and as he leans over to push his door open you grip his tshirt to pull him back to you. "what is it honey? i thought you were in a hurry to get to the restaurant."

you shake your head, glancing around. he's pulled into a vacant semi-hidden part of the block, full of box stores and parking lot with some greenery interspersed here and there. you're glad he likes this place rather than somewhere more crowded downtown because while there are some people out shopping it's still a little early for most of the crowd and it's always quieter out here to begin with.

san blinks and you lean over to pull the lever that lets his seat slide back. "lock the doors baby."

he lets you manhandle him, clicking the button on the keys still hanging from the ignition without a word. you can see the confusion in his eyes but it quickly bleeds away in favour of a pleased smile when you shuffle your way over to fold yourself onto his lap.

"what about breakfast?"

"it can wait."

your hands settle against the sided of his neck as his head tilts back to watch you. the way his eyes sparkle at you is your undoing. he looks so soft you can’t help the kiss you lean in to press to his lips and the way he licks them when you lean back has your head reeling. you're so in love with this man. it should be illegal for everything he does to affect you this deeply.

he frowns when you pull back but it falls away quickly when you kiss down his neck. his soft sigh and the hand that comes to rest on your waist only encourage you to keep going. before you know it your lower back is pressed against the steering wheel, which digs uncomfortably into your tailbone every time san's hips roll, while you choke back a moan as his hands tangle in your hair. you love the weight of him on your tongue, the way he moans as you hollow your cheeks around him and his head falls back against the headrest where you've reclined the seat so no one (from a distance at least) can see you in the window.

you love the way he whines and squirms as you press his hips back down against the seat. the way praises spill from his lips between curses and the way he chokes your name out like a prayer as you work him, gagging a little as he ruts up instinctively when you finally manage to take all of him into your mouth until your nose presses against his pelvic bone. you love the way he tears up, hand tugging at your hair, as you stroke him through a second release lips sucking purple marks onto the gorgeous tanned thighs and along his hip while he babbles about the overstimulation.

mostly you like the way he looks at you as he comes down, eyes a little glazed over and so full of awe, and his mouth hangs open while he pants out i love yous while your pace slows. the way he smiles oh so lovingly and leans up to pull you into a kiss, tasting himself on your lips, before leaning over to grab the box of tissues from the glovebox and fixing your makeup before adjusting himself.

so maybe, just maybe, as you hold his hand and walk into the fairly empty seating area of your favourite café you can’t blame him for the stupid smile stuck on his face or the way he greets the hostess a little too excitedly today. You definitely can't blame him when his hand snakes up your thigh under the table and he whisks you away halfway through your meal to press you into the wall of the small bathroom and make you come apart twice on his fingers before he's satisfied.

if the rest of your meals are a bit cold you're, frankly, too keyed up to notice. too caught up in the promise he made about when he gets you back home to your shared apartment after this. and oh does he ever make good the words he whispered in your ear the whole ride home.

sometimes, you think, saturdays are allowed to go a little awry if this is the way your routine gets thrown off the rails.

[snowyslytherinowl]

Mini Me, Kitty Me

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: You take home a stray cat, much to Severus's displeasure. But Severus and the cat soon get along, probably because the cat is a little like Severus.

*GIF isn't mine; credit to @smilingformoney

“No! I will not hear any sort of protest from you! This decision is final! I am keeping Pepper!” you shout at Severus. 

Dear Merlin, he loves your stubbornness and strong will unless your stubbornness and strong will are directed against him. To make your point even more clear, you storm out of the room and leave him alone with the cat. 

Severus’s stare burns into the cat, or “Pepper” as you affectionately call him, sitting on the floor. He’s black and has small, tired-looking eyes. How could you ever find this scruffy, scrawny little cat “the most adorable little angel known to wizardkind?” And how could you ever insist on taking this stray cat home?  

As if to challenge the dominance that Severus is trying to assert, the cat’s yellow eyes glare back at him. The hard look he’s giving him reminds him of Minerva leering at him from a corner when she’s in her animagus form. Severus jerks forward so that Pepper is only one step away from him. Pepper hisses at him and scurries out of the room to wherever you are. Finally, some peace and quiet. 

Later that night, Severus tries to relax with you on the couch. You usually lean your head on his shoulder as he reads a book to you, but not tonight. Just as your cheek brushes against his shoulder, Pepper jumps directly onto your lap and snuggles into you. 

“Aw, sweet little Pepper. Do you like cuddling with mom?” you ask in a voice typically used for toddlers. Severus rolls his eyes as Pepper meows back, indicating that he does indeed love spending time with you. 

“Get that wretched deformed tiger off our couch,” Severus grunts at you. 

You ignore him as you stroke Pepper’s fur and sweetly say to him, “Dad doesn’t like you now, but I promise he will soon. He was moody when I first met him, just like you hissed at me when I saw you next to Honeydukes. But eventually, both of you grew fond of me.” 

Severus scowls as you compare him to the cat. “I am nothing like him. He is unwilling to be friendly and he is nothing short of hideous.” 

Both you and Pepper turn to glare at him. “He is loveable and he is not hideous! Just let him get used to you and he’ll give you kisses!” 

Slowly, Severus’s face turns red. “I want you to give me kisses, not the cat!”

“You’re not getting any kisses if you continue to insult my Pepper!” you yell at him. You take Pepper into your arms, stand up, and slam the door as you exit. All Severus can do is huff with frustration. 

Over the next week, Severus and Pepper are forced to be alone in the house together whenever you go shopping or peruse the streets of the nearby village. In some ways, your absence is for the better since Severus and Pepper aren’t forced to be in the same room together. 

As usual, Severus is brewing potions in the wee hours of the morning when the door cracks open. The crack is a little too small for you to fit through, so Severus doesn’t need to look down to know that Pepper has snuck into his “mini dungeon,” as you like to call it. Pepper meows softly as he jumps onto the stool that Severus was sitting on just seconds ago. 

“Shoo, you wretched cat!” Severus swats at Pepper, but he merely hisses in response. Swiftly, Severus lunges at the cat and seizes him with his arms. He rolls his eyes as Pepper thrashes against his hold. The deformed tiger clearly is not smart enough to bear its claws, Severus thinks. Severus drops him on the floor outside his mini dungeon, and Pepper falls onto the wooden surface with a plop. 

Several peaceful minutes cutting roots and organizing jars pass before insistent scratching sounds from the door. Severus does his best to ignore the sound until he realizes that he’s allowing Pepper to create scratch marks on the door. He grumbles loudly as he flicks the door open with his wand. As Pepper struts in, Severus demands from the cat, “What do you want? It is to my understanding that you want nothing to do with me.”

Pepper meows softly as he jumps onto the table in the center of the room and strolls through the maze of mini cauldrons and jars.  He stops at the diced Observant Olives on a cutting board and pokes at it with his paw before hunching down to sniff it.

“If you break anything, I will throw you out of the house and tell my wife that you ran away,” Severus threatens as he watches Pepper explore his mini dungeon. Nonetheless, he turns back to his cauldron to continue stirring it clockwise since the allotted time for simmering has already passed. He isn’t going to ruin his potion just because of the wretched cat. 

Laying down on the counter directly beside Severus, Pepper lazily licks his fur and purrs. Severus watches him from the corner of his eye for a moment before poking the cat in the chest. Unbothered, Pepper simply rocks back once and looks his “dad” in the eye. “You remind me of Minerva,” Severus comments to the cat before he gets back to work. 

An hour passes by in which Severus suspiciously watches Pepper groom himself from the corner of his eye. A devious little voice inside Severus’s head tells him that perhaps this cat is a little cute. As if to reflect his thoughts, Pepper comes down from the counter and rests at Severus’s feet, softly purring.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Pepper jumps and hisses aggressively. Severus is about to yell at him and retract his thoughts about the cat being cute when he notices that Pepper is bolting after a rat. It seems like not even a second passes as Pepper pounces on the rat and grasps it with his mouth. He presents the rat to Severus, looking up at him with bright yellow eyes. 

“I suppose a thanks is in order,” Severus says as he takes the rat from Pepper’s mouth. He holds it by the tail with his thumb and forefinger and scrunches his face in disgust. “I do not like gutting rats for their spleens, but this will save me a galleon or two.”

Pepper purrs in response and settles in Severus’s lap. His instinct is to jerk the cat off; though when notices that the cat is gazing up at him, he realizes that maybe he’s not so bad. So Severus allows Pepper to snuggle into his lap as he cuts ingredients to place in storage. Occasionally, he even pets Pepper. His fur is a little greasy but a lot softer than expected.

“I see you two are getting along now.” Severus jumps in his seat, his hand still on Pepper’s fur, as he sees you standing in the doorframe. Pepper also jumps in surprise but remains on the lap of his “dad.”

Your smug smile bothers Severus. It’s clear that you’re holding back laughter as you bite down on your lower lip. With all the aggression he can muster, Severus sneers at you, “We are not friends.”

That finally does it for you; you burst out laughing. Severus glares at you as you reach him and rest your arms on his shoulders. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But how about you both join me in bed?”

“Fine,” Severus grunts. He carries Pepper into your shared bedroom and places him at the foot of the bed. Yawning, Severus realizes that this is the perfect time to head to bed. He holds his arm out as you snuggle into him and fall fast asleep. Seconds after you and Severus doze off, Pepper crawls over and settles himself between the two of you, deeming Severus’s chest a wonderful pillow to rest on.

[voxslays]

BLACK CATS

Featuring >>> Husk x Reader; In which, you accidentally offend Husk by being overly affectionate to a cat.

It was the morning of all hallows eve, the most celebrated holiday in all of hell. The hotel residents were preparing the hotel for a mini party they would throw that night. Getting together their costumes, decorating the lobby, catering food and beverages. Husk was standing behind in the lobby, sipping on a flask of whiskey, his usual spot. He looked up at you with a scowl. “What's with the smile? You look like a damn idiot.” You smile even wider as you hold up a small black cat. “I found this little kitty outside!” You giggle softly. 

Husk squints at the cat, then at you, his expression unchanging. He takes another swig from his flask. "You expect me to believe you woke up this morning and just decided to go out and find a cat?" He asks, skeptical. “No. The cat found me!” You smile at the cat, gently petting its soft black fur as you hold it tenderly in your arms. “I just love cats.” You say, without considering the fact that Husk is a cat demon. Husk’s tail twitches slightly, but his expression remains hard. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You love cats, huh?" He repeats, his voice low. "You wouldn't happen to have a particular...type...of cat that you like, would you?" 

Still oblivious to your previous wording, you reply in deep thought. “I like gray cats and white ones with big blue eyes.” You say thoughtfully. “Why?” Husk’s tail twitches again, this time lashing out behind him. He stands up, his tall figure towering over you. "You like gray cats, huh? Well, maybe you'll like this one even more." He says, his voice menacing. “Huh?” You ask obliviously. He looms over you, his tail lashing behind him. "I am a cat demon,” Husk says angrily before responding, “and I ain’t appreciating the way you treat cats. As if we are all cute or somethin’.”

“Husk wait-!” You say quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that! I kinda forgot you were a cat.” You look at the ground shamefully. He looks at you for a moment, his yellow eyes narrowing. “How could you forget that I’m a cat?!” He bellows furiously. “I didn’t forget, I mean- I wouldn’t treat you that way, like a cat, and- uhm…” You stumble over your words. “You wouldn’t treat me like a cat? Then how would you treat me?!” He demands, his voice rising in anger. “Like a person!” You yell anxiously. He stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he starts to chuckle. It's a low, rough sound, but there's a hint of amusement in it. "Like a person, huh?" He says, shaking his head.

"Well, I guess that's something. But just so we're clear, I ain't no pet. And if you ever talk about liking 'gray cats,’ I swear I'll make you regret it." He lets out a gruff sigh. “I won't, I promise. And I’m sorry.” Husk nods, his expression softening slightly. "Alright, fine. Apology accepted. But next time, remember, I'm a demon, not some fluffy little kitten." He says gruffly, before walking around the bar and walking away, his tail swishing behind him. “Bye whiskers!” You tease as he walks away. He freezes mid-step, his back to you. There's a tense silence. Then, without turning around, he says in a low, dangerous voice. "I heard that." He continues walking, but there's a slight hitch in his step, as if he's trying not to grin. Mission Accomplished.

A/N: My least favorite part of the whole writing/posting process is tagging my posts y’all.

[kujousgf]

THERE'S JUST ONE THING I WANT (your blood all over me)

pairings: final girl!reader + slashers!wandanat, pre-established bucky + reader

summary: movie night at your boyfriend bucky's on friday the 13th, what could go wrong?

warnings: depictions of violence and murder, cult dynamics (cult leader wanda), character death (not reader), cheating, manipulation, patriarchal ideals, misogyny, power dynamics, pet names, mommy kink, dom!natasha, sub!reader, dom!wanda, fingering, groping

wc: 5.7k~

A/N: sorry bucky...

Friday the 13th, a universal day of bad luck and bad omens. You were never one to be overly superstitious, you did have a black cat, Liho, after all, but something about this just felt like a bad idea. Bucky had proposed the idea of having a movie night of sorts to celebrate the unofficial holiday, wanting to invite some friends over and watch a few horror movies. He explicitly wanted to ‘watch Parker piss his pants over a little movie,’ which you rolled your eyes at. 

“I don't know if this is a good idea, Buck…” You sigh, looking up at the taller man through your lashes, your arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Who doesn't love a good horror movie?” He laughs, though he knows you don't, “besides, I'll keep you safe. Don't worry.” He pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You know I don't like those kinds of movies,” you huff, “and your friends are always… weird.” You mumble, burying your face in his chest. He sighs above you, starting to run his fingers through your hair, “I know, I know, but it'll just be one movie. And it's just the guys! They're harmless, come on, you know that!” His tone is lighthearted, but he tugs a little on your hair at the last part. “You can invite some of your friends,” he offers, “who've you been hanging out with lately? Wanda? Natasha? Carol?” and then he quickly changes his mind, he doesn't like her attitude towards either of you, “Ugh, no, don't invite Carol… How about that Kate girl? You can invite the redheads and Kate?” 

“...okay, but promise you won't pick one that's too scary?”

“Promise, scaredy cat.”

Friday comes quickly and you're currently preparing for Bucky’s friends to come over, making sure there's cold beer in the fridge and snacks for them to eat. Your boyfriend was setting up the television apparently, telling you that you were always better in the kitchen than he was and then disappearing into the living room. Some of your friends were coming too, which you were grateful for. You had debated inviting Carol even though Bucky said not to, but decided against it. Wanda and Kate would be here soon, but Natasha said she had something she needed to do with Yelena tonight and wouldn’t be able to make it. 

You play with the ring around your finger before you start to put bowls and dishes on the island’s countertop in front of you, humming softly to yourself as you make sure it looks presentable. You were never one to like an ugly spread. Bucky chooses this time to come into the kitchen and wrap his arms around your waist from behind, “see? Told you, you’re so much better in the kitchen than I am.”

“You’re just saying that because I cut up some plums for you.”

“You got me.” He chuckles, reaching forward to grab a slice of the fruit, “the boys should be here soon, you should get changed.” He pats your bare thigh, the shorts you’re wearing are decidedly too short for him, and then pulls away from you and starts to walk away. 

“You didn’t seem to mind my outfit earlier!” You call out after him teasingly, and he just turns around to give you a pointed look, opening his mouth to speak before promptly closing it when he hears a car pull into the driveway. “That must be Steve. Go get changed.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

It did turn out to be Steve, and you greet him after you’ve come back downstairs. This time dressed in a pair of jeans and a brown sweater. Bucky’s friends arrive in quick succession after that: Steve, Sam, Tony, Peter (Quill, not Parker. Parker couldn’t make it), and even Rhodey showed up which was apparently something of a miracle. Wanda’s friend Vision was away for work, otherwise you might have asked her to bring him too. You sip on a drink in the kitchen with Wanda while you wait for Kate, it was far too loud in the living room with all the boys. Especially because Tony had started drinking. You don’t envy Pepper, the man could be loud while sober, so this was almost unbearable. You remind yourself that they’re Bucky’s friends and it’s just one evening, he’ll make it up to you tomorrow. 

“You know, you could have just told him we were going out and you wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this,” Wanda hums, lifting her glass up to her lips and taking a sip of wine, “I know how much you hate these kinds of movies.”

“I know, but he seemed excited about it, and you know him… I don’t want to be down on something he’s actually excited about.” You lean against the counter, holding your glass in both hands against your chest. “He said he’d pick a movie that wasn’t too scary, but we can probably get away with just being in here for the whole night. It’s not like they’ll really notice.”

“You don’t think Bucky will notice if you’re not within two feet of him at all times? You must have forgotten who you’re talking about.” Wanda laughs humorlessly, a tight smile on her lips. None of your friends were particularly… fond of your boyfriend. It’s not that they hated him, he could be a nice guy, it’s just that sometimes the way he treated you was more like the way you’d treat a child or a trophy than a girlfriend.

Just then Bucky’s voice interrupts the two of you with a ‘babe!’ and you excuse yourself from the kitchen. You’re semi-grateful for it, not wanting to get into this Wanda right now, but you wanted to avoid the guys for longer than you were able to.

It turns out he had just wanted another beer, which you brought him and he accepted with a kiss to your cheek. You’re certain that Peter was going to ask for one too until he and Bucky had some sort of silent conversation, so you slipped out of the room to avoid whatever the outcome might have been. Things between the two of them could get tense. 

Wanda gives you a look when you re-enter the kitchen and you shrug, “he was having some sort of debate with Steve, he didn’t want to lose his train of thought.”

“Uh huh…” The strawberry blonde opens her mouth to say something else, but she’s cut off when she hears a sharp, feminine scream pierce her ears. A scream that she knows doesn’t belong to the horror movie everyone is supposed to be watching tonight. She gives you an indecipherable look, and you look back at her with wide eyes, frightened. “Was that… the movie? Buck didn’t say he was starting it yet…”

She doesn’t answer you, waiting to see if maybe she can hear the background noise of a movie coming from the living room, maybe they decided on a different movie. But when she doesn’t hear anything besides confused chatter she can’t quite decipher she shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”

You’re soon joined by Bucky and the rest of the guys in the kitchen when he rushes in to make sure the scream he heard wasn’t, in fact, his girlfriend. “What the hell was that? Are you okay?” He holds you at arm’s length to inspect you, making sure you weren’t hurt. You could be a little clumsy, and he knows you’ve been drinking some wine, so he thought maybe you had decided to cut up some fruit and dropped the knife, accidentally cutting yourself. But after a quick once over, he realizes that you’re fine. 

“I-I don’t know. Wanda and I were just talking in here and then we heard a scream. I thought maybe you started the movie without us. Do you think someone’s hurt somewhere? Oh God, this is exactly how those horror movies you like so much start out. I told you doing something like this today was a bad idea, Buck–”

The back door opens and you barely hear it, still rambling until Bucky puts his hand over your mouth. You furrow your eyebrows, and you’re about to move his hand to tell him off, who cares that his friends are here, until you hear a set of footsteps and realize that everyone is standing still and tense. Bucky’s house had a bit of an odd layout. Whereas other houses kitchen’s were in the back of the house, his was near the front. 

Your boyfriend was always hyper vigilant, even when there was no reason to be, but when he brings his finger up to his lips to signal you to be quiet, you think that maybe there is a reason this time. Even Tony seems to have shut up, looking slightly concerned. Maybe all your talk about bad omens was getting to everyone. 

There’s a tension in the air and everything is silent for a moment until the footsteps continue, getting closer and closer…

Your breath gets caught in your throat when a masked figure steps through the doorway. They have a long, sharp, knife-like blade in one hand, the front of their shirt and mask splattered with blood. In the other hand, you see a coat you recognize, one you know belongs to Kate, splattered and stained with blood. Wordlessly, they hold it up and tilt their head, their green eyes sparkling at the recognition and horror on your face. A scream rips through your throat before you can stop it.

Bucky turns and he’s quick to push you behind him as soon as you scream while everyone else is frozen in place, eyes wide with shock. “Very funny guys, love that you hired an actor to scare the shit out of my girlfriend, very clever. When I said I wanted to scare her, I meant with the movie. So she would be extra clingy tonight, so we could– not the point. This isn’t cool.” His tone hardens with the last three words, feeling the way you’re shaking slightly behind him from fear. 

“Buck, we didn’t… this isn’t us.” Sam speaks up and the masked stranger decides that this is enough talking for now before they surge towards Peter, who’s drunk enough to move just a bit too slowly. Their knife plunges into his stomach and he lets out a loud yell, drink dropping from his hand and glass shattering against the floor, doubling over when the knife is taken out and then plunged into his flesh again and again and again. 

The action is enough to snap everyone out of their frozen states and send everyone running in a panic. You vaguely hear a ‘holy fuck!’ before Bucky grabs your hand and drags you out of the room, planning to circle around the killer and then exit the house. He lives at the end of a relatively secluded street, but he has his car and if he can get to it, he knows he could get the both of you away from danger quite quickly. He’d be sorry about his friends, but he can always make new ones. 

“B-Buck, wait! We can’t just leave Wanda, what if she’s next? Please, we can't just leave. That was Kate’s coat, they got Kate. We can’t leave everyone.”

“We might get killed and you're worried about that redheaded b– fine, we can make sure Wanda’s okay.” He concedes when he sees your face, pulling you into the bathroom with him and shutting the door. He takes a breath and then locks it. If all else fails, the two of you can stay in here until morning, but right now he apparently needs a new plan.

He pats his pockets to try and find his phone, if nothing at all he needs to call the police. He groans when he realizes he left it on the couch. “Fuck.”

At some point you and Bucky get separated, it's hard to stay together in chaos like this. Maybe going back for Wanda was a bad idea, but you just couldn't leave her to fend for herself, especially after what you can only assume happened to Kate. And seeing what happened to Peter, you couldn’t let that happen to her. Stupid, maybe, but she was one of your closest friends. 

You don't know how long it's been until you find yourself in a group again. Except now you're missing Peter, Tony, Steve and Rhodey. By the look on Bucky’s face, you know they all must have suffered the same fate as Peter.

“What do we do, man? We could try to leave, but that only got Steve killed. Did anyone call the cops? I can't find my phone.” Sam paces the room.

Steve’s body lays limp and slightly cold on the stone path leading from Bucky’s porch to the driveway. He didn’t get very far.

“I did.” Wanda speaks up from the doorway, keeping watch in the one on the left and scanning the whole room, paying particular attention to the doorway across from her. “I hope they'll be here soon. They might have already been here if James didn't live so far from town.”

“Oh, are you blaming this on me? Are you saying this is my fault?” Bucky shoots a glare towards Wanda. The tension between the two of them was always thick, but right now you think even a knife wouldn’t be able to cut through it. 

“If the shoe fits.”

“Listen here, you–”

“Watch your tone.” Wanda's accent slips out and your eyes flit over towards her.

“Please don't fight, it won't make things better.” Your voice is quiet, scared, as you speak. You stand close to Bucky, arms wrapped around your torso. You're shaking slightly, the image of both Peter and Steve making you nauseous. You hadn’t expected to see him when you walked out the front door, and the image was enough to have you running back into the house. 

Bucky grunts in response and Wanda doesn't say anything, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and looking towards the other entrance of the room you were all in again. 

Perhaps she should have been paying more attention to what's behind her, though, because the masked stranger is suddenly right there. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to warn her before she shrieks as they force her hands behind her back and press a knife against her throat. It's a bit of a struggle, but the masked assailant is clearly strong as they manhandle Wanda into the room. 

“Wanda!”

“Fuck!”

“Man, fuck this!”

You, Bucky, and Sam all stand alarmed near the center of the room, looking with widened eyes at the scene in front of you. A beat of silence passes, all that can be heard is labored breathing. And then the knife falls from her throat and Wanda starts to laugh, bent over from the force of it. “Oh, you should have seen your faces!” She laughs like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to her before she stops abruptly and stands up, a gun suddenly in her hand, pointed straight towards you. “Come here.” Her accent is back now, the fake American one dropped. 

“W-Wanda, I don’t… what’s going on?” You sniffle, tears falling freely down your cheeks.

“W-Wanda,” she mocks, faux pout on her lips, “Come here.”

“Don’t listen to her. Stay right behind me.” Bucky steps in front of you, shielding you with his body. 

“What a gentleman.” Wanda sneers, gun steadily pointed at Bucky’s chest now. 

“Wanda, sweetheart, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Natasha speaks up, taking the now bloody hockey mask off and revealing herself. It had been so hard for her to keep her comments to herself and remain a mystery this whole time. Usually it wouldn’t be, but today was just so exciting. And it was personal.

Oh, she had been the one to give Wanda the handgun.

“Now what the fuck?” Sam makes the mistake of making himself known again and Wanda rolls her eyes, turning and aiming the gun at him instead. “Oh, shut up.” She pulls the trigger and a bullet goes straight through the man’s skull, blood splattering onto the floor and the wall behind him. He drops to the floor with a thud.

“Jesus Christ! You’re both fucking insane!” Bucky takes a glance towards Sam’s body on the floor, feeling bile rise up in his throat. 

“Buck, I-I’m scared.” You whimper, and he pulls your body against his, hoping to bring you some comfort by running his fingers through your hair. This is not something he ever thought before, but maybe he should have listened to you when you said this was a bad idea. 

Wanda takes a deep breath, her head jerking involuntarily at the sight, like she’d just seen something horrible. “I won’t ask again. Come. Here.” The gun is pointed at you again and her hand shakes slightly. Her eyes flash and you look up at Bucky, afraid she might actually shoot you. “Buck, I-I maybe I should go over. T-To calm her down… I don’t want her to hurt you.”

You sniffle again and he takes five seconds before giving a small nod. “It’ll be okay, baby. They won’t get away with this, I promise, I won’t let them.” He says in a way that he hopes is comforting to you. You hesitate before pulling away from him and slowly walking over to Wanda. 

“Hi, Wands,” you smile up at her sweetly, “did I do good?”

“You would have done better if you didn’t let him put his hands on you like that,” she spits. You pout up at her and she softens slightly, leaning down to kiss you. She knows you were only playing a role, but that didn’t make it better, “you did great, baby.”

“What the fuck is going on!”

You spin around, eyes wild, no longer hiding anything now that the charade has been dropped, angry that your moments with Wanda are still being interrupted. “Will you shut the fuck up for five fucking seconds?! We are trying to have a conversation here.”

Bucky, poor guy, looks the most shocked you’ve ever seen him. He never would have seen this coming, he never could have. This wasn’t like you, you were sweet and quiet and would never speak to him like that. You couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this, not voluntarily. The way you were acting wasn’t making any sense. 

“Baby… Come on, this isn’t like you. Whatever they said to you, whatever they did to you, you can tell me. I can help, I’ll get you out of this, you don’t have to worry.” He chooses almost the exact wrong thing to say, and you grab the gun from Wanda, pointing it towards him. Wanda and Natasha look toward each other, this wasn’t part of the plan. Not exactly, anyway.

"Oh, you can help me?! You'll help me!" You think of these past couple of months, years really, that you’ve spent with Bucky, stuck with Bucky. You did it to yourself upon the request of Natasha, but that doesn’t make it any better. You're practically hysterical at this point, waving the gun in your hand around with your finger on the trigger, "because you're a big strong military man, you can help me! Oh, and I bet you’ll save me too!" You're laughing now, shaking as adrenaline pumps through your veins. "That's what I am to you, isn't it? Proof of your ability as a man to save a woman? Your little trophy to prove that you're a good guy." You point the gun steadily at Bucky now, looking him directly in the eyes, "unfortunately for you, I've never been yours to save."

The thing about your and Bucky’s relationship is that it was never built on anything good. It would have been better, for him mostly, but the both of you, if you had just stayed friends like you wanted to, but he just kept pushing. He loves you, don’t you love him too? He knows you do, he can tell. He’s loved you since middle school and he’s never found the right time to tell you, but now that you’re both starting university, he couldn’t take the chance that you’d find someone else. (Unfortunately for him, you already had. The extra 10 years of friendship Bucky had, had nothing on the connection you had with Wanda and Natasha). 

Bucky watched you grow up, watched you turn to him when your parents fought, watched you take your father’s mistreatment of you and your mother, and watched your little fear of abandonment grow when your father up and left one night. Watched the way you hoped he wouldn’t leave too, took advantage of it, really. And you watched him, watched the cracks in his nice guy persona get bigger, watched as they became canyons when you wedged yourself into them, watched as he hoped, God he hoped that you were your mother’s daughter. 

And Wanda and Natasha watched you both, content to keep your relationship a secret as you explored the ways in which you could exploit Bucky, expose his true colors. They didn’t do very much pushing on your part, they wanted you to be free to make your own decisions. They may be in charge, but this was your idea, they just gave it the green light. Well, Wanda may have planted a few seeds, but that’s what she does. You were free to ignore them if you wanted, but she knew you didn’t. She knew you’d make her plans blossom. 

The switch from hysterics to calm and collected has your boyfriend's head spinning. He doesn't know what part of this is real and what isn't, still half hoping this is some sick prank. Because this isn't like you, it's just not. The first time Bucky had ever shown you one of his guns, you were like a deer in headlights. You'd refused to even touch it, scared of such a weapon, a monster of human creation, you'd called it. That's who his girlfriend was, not this person standing in front of him. This mad woman, this crazy bitch. So this had to be fake, it had to be a prank. 

It's not, of course, because what Bucky doesn't understand is that nothing with him had ever been anything but fake. What Bucky doesn't understand is that even though he's your boyfriend, you've never been his girlfriend, you've been Natasha and Wanda's. You've always been Natasha and Wanda's.

Natasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek, "go on, pretty girl, you can do it," she whispers encouragingly. This may not be a part of the original plan, but the sooner they get this done, the sooner she can take you back to her and Wanda’s apartment. And the sooner Wanda can stop obsessing over this. "Remember how he treated you. Remember how we treat you."

“Be a good girl, we’re so close.” Wanda’s voice hits your ears and it’s like you can’t help but listen to anything she says. You take the shot without a second thought, the bullet going straight through Bucky’s chest as your own chest heaves, your breathing slightly labored. You’re still holding the gun towards him as his eyes widen and he drops to the ground, touching the wound like he can’t believe what just happened. He chokes slightly, coughing, as blood starts to spill past his lips and you shut your eyes. If only he hadn’t turned into such a rotten guy, he would have survived. 

You feel Wanda’s soft hand slide up the length of your arm as she slots herself behind you now, Natasha going to check around the house to make sure no one has miraculously survived being slain. A smile graces the Sokovian’s lips and she envelopes your hand in her own, gently transferring the gun into her own grip instead, letting your arm drop to your side before lowering the weapon and tucking it into her back pocket, “you did such a good job, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Her voice is so sweet and loving that your bottom lip trembles involuntarily.

You love Natasha, but Wanda has always had an affect on you, and you know that if the Russian had said the same thing instead, you wouldn’t react this same way. The overwhelming feelings that loomed over tonight come back in full force as you let out the first sob. “Oh, sweet girl,” Wanda coos, turning you in her arms and bringing you against her, holding you tight, “such a big night for you, huh? But you know that what you’ve done is for the greater good, right? You know that, don’t you?” 

You nod and she kisses the top of your head. “B-But Tasha came early, and I didn’t know that Katie– I thought– Tasha was too early, and I couldn’t tell if–” You can’t get your thoughts together anymore, your mind racing with everything that’s been going through your head since the beginning of the night. The fear for Kate, the confusion when Natasha showed up before 10:02pm, the very specific time she was supposed to, the way Wanda had looked just as confused as you had.

“Oh no, did she scare you?” Wanda laughs lightly, endeared and a little amused, “I’ll have to give Tasha a little talking to. She was a little early, huh?” She smooths her hand along your hair, petting you, “don’t worry about Katie, darling, she’s just fine. You know how Yelena would react if she wasn’t.” 

“I-I know, but–”

“Shhh, I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, you didn’t know. Now, why don’t you give me a kiss, hm? Don’t I deserve a thank you?”

A ‘thank you’ for what, you didn’t know, but Wanda clearly thought she was deserving of one and who were you to question her? You lean up to give her a kiss, your arms wrapping around her shoulders as she grips your waist. You sigh against her lips, feeling yourself relax a little just from the comfort any amount of affection from Wanda gives you. 

“I leave you two alone for five minutes and you’re pretending like I don’t exist.” Natasha stands from where she was leaning against the doorframe as she looks at you and Wanda, “do you have any idea how long I was standing there?” It had only been long enough to catch Wanda’s ‘don’t I deserve a thank you?’ and watch the two of you kiss, but still. 

You pull away from Wanda and huff, your tears now forgotten, “I’m mad at you!” You glare at Natasha and she raises an eyebrow, walking towards you now, “mad at me, зайка?” She furrows her eyebrows slightly, as if she’s confused, and there’s an annoyingly attractive little smirk on her lips as she gets closer. 

She grabs your hips and pulls you away from Wanda and the Sokovian would usually protest against the Russian’s audacity to steal her girl away, but she’s content to watch the two of you bicker for a few minutes. Natasha pulls you against her, “now what did I do to deserve that?” She squeezes your hips softly, looking down at you. “You were early!” You push against her chest before resting your hands there, playing with the fabric of her sweatshirt, “we had a plan!”

“Well, we didn’t exactly stick to the plan anyway, did we, baby? Huh? I don’t think the past 15 minutes were part of the plan. How about you, Wands?” Natasha turns her head slightly and makes eye contact with her girlfriend, to which the strawberry blonde just rolls her eyes, “this is not my problem. She’s not mad at me.”

“We might have if you showed up on time! You scared me, you asshole!”

Natasha is perfectly happy to humor when you’re ‘mad’ at her and even when you play fight against her or hit her, but she is not happy to hear you speak to her like that. Her movement is swift as she reaches up to grab your jaw, her grip harsh as her fingertips dig into your cheeks, “watch your tone and your language, yeah?”

You whine quietly, nodding. Natasha hums, releasing your jaw in favor of patting your cheek, “good girl. Now, why don’t you tell me properly why you’re ‘mad’ at me?” Her next actions contradict her words as she slips her hands underneath your shirt, sliding her palms up your stomach and then back down again.

“You were…” you trail off, distracted by Natasha's hands on you. She slides her hands back up and gropes your covered breasts, “I was?” There’s a smug look on her face as she looks down at you, pleased with how easily she can distract you. “You were early and… and you scared me, I didn’t know it was you.”

“My sincerest apologies, princess,” Natasha slides her hands back down and grabs your waist, squeezing roughly, and then she grins, “I didn’t realize you were so easily scared.” You’re about to curse her out, but she leans down to capture your lips in a kiss before you get the chance. The kiss is sloppy and rough as your hands grip her sweatshirt, tugging her as close as possible. 

Wanda, never one to like being left out, takes her place behind you, sandwiching you between her and Natasha. Her hands slip under your shirt and replace where Natasha’s used to be, cupping your breasts and groping them softly, “let us make it up to you, ангел.”

The sound of Wanda’s soft voice in your ear relaxes you in their arms and you make a noise of agreeance against Natasha’s lips. “My poor little angel,” Wanda murmurs, “my divine little lamb. You didn’t deserve to be scared like that, did you?” Wanda’s questions are almost always rhetorical and you’re glad for that right now. 

One of Natasha’s hands moves from your waist to unbutton your jeans and then slides into your panties. You grip her sweater tighter to try and urge her to move her hand further down, but she leaves it splayed just above your cunt. She pulls away from your lips, the both of you panting as you catch your breath, a string of spit connecting your lips and then dripping down.

“Say please, зайка. Just because I’ve upset you doesn’t mean you lose your manners, does it?”

“Please, Tasha. Please touch me.”

“Tell me thank you for what I did today.” She’s trying to stay in control of herself, but you can tell from her labored breathing and the flush of her neck that you’ve affected her. 

“I’m so happy you freed me, Tasha. Thank you. I’m so grateful I can be yours forever now. Thank you, thank you.” 

Natasha surges forward and crashes her lips against yours, a moan escaping your lips at the contact. Wanda hums in approval and it lights a fire in both yours and Natasha’s stomachs. You both know, this time, Wanda is only here to watch over the two of you, and to know what you’re doing has her approval means more to the both of you than anything you’ve ever done.

Natasha swallows your gasp when you feel her fingers beginning to rub at your clit, slow circles that work you up at just the right pace. Wanda places small kisses on your neck as Natasha works, groping and squeezing at your breasts as she does. She knows she’ll have you to herself later while Natasha works on cleaning up today’s mess, so she’s content in watching her prized possession feel good.

When Natasha moves her hand further down and sinks two fingers into your cunt, you pull away from her lips and let out a little whimper. Usually, she’d work you up, but she knew the three of you shouldn’t linger in the house longer than necessary. “Shhh, that’s it baby, you can take it.” She lets you bury your face against her chest as she pumps her fingers in and out, grinding the heel of her palm against your clit. 

“There you go, that’s a good girl.” Natasha coos. She’s being uncharacteristically gentle and you think it’s because Wanda is watching or maybe she really does feel bad for scaring you like she did. She holds you tight against her as she leans over you to kiss Wanda. You feel your knees get weak when you realize what’s happening and you clench around Natasha’s fingers. 

They both pay you no mind except for the fact that Natasha’s skilled fingers are still working against your cunt. She curls them just right and you bite down on her collarbone. She gasps and pulls away from Wanda’s lips, her other hand gripping your waist tighter, her blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving little crescent marks. 

“Forgot our little зайка was a biter.” She grunts.

It’s not long before Natasha’s fingers work you up and push you over the edge, cumming with both her and Wanda’s permission. When Natasha pulls her fingers out you let out a little whine, sensitive from cumming. “Open up, pretty girl.” She brings her fingers up to your lips and you let her push them inside, cleaning your cum from her fingers, your cheeks hot at the action.

Natasha pulls away from you and pushes you to your knees, your shaky legs doing very little to hold you up anyway. Wanda’s fingertips drag across your cheek as she moves in front of you, standing next to Natasha. “What do you say, маленький ангел?” Wanda speaks as she uses her middle and ring finger to tilt your chin up. 

You peer up at them, adoration swimming in your eyes, “Thank you Mommy. Thank you Tasha.”

[froody]

I went to the shelter today and met several cats. A beautiful 3 year old black kitty who had been surrendered for urinary issues, a very sweet very handsome 2 year old tabby man. They were both fantastic cats with fantastic personalities. I liked them both and was having a hard time deciding. Then they told me there was a very skittish 4 month old tortoiseshell kitten at the PetSmart.

I go there and she’s catatonically hiding in the corner. I get her out and she clings to me like a shipwreck survivor. I knew she was the one. The other cats were so sweet but she was utterly petrified being in that environment. Her nose was runny, her eyes were crusty, she was so scared her little body was like stone. I had to put her back to fill out the paperwork and when the employee grabbed her too roughly to try to take her out of the cage, she SHREDDED that woman.

I got in the car like alright, feral kitten. I’ll figure it out. She’ll come around.

She’s not feral. She’s a precious little angel. She started purring moments after I started petting her. She’s just a shy nervous girl who spend the past two months of her little life in a hell-ish overstimulating environment.

I don’t know about her early life. She’s been spayed, she’s up to date on her shots, she’s FIV negative. They gave her a course of antibiotics for the eye crust and runny nose but she’s still sneezy and crusty and wheezy. I’m betting it’s feline herpes, one of my childhood cats had feline herpes and she always got sneezy and crusty when she was stressed out. I’m going to give her a little period of adjustment and then get her set up with my vet and tested to make sure that’s the problem.

She’s currently hiding under my bed. I can hear her moving around periodically. I’m letting her adjust, decompress and get used to my presence. She will be a challenge. I look forward to loving and knowing her. I think what she needs is peace and quiet and I am like the most peaceful quiet owners a cat could possibly have. I don’t know what toys she’ll like, if she’ll be a candidate for leash training, what her favorite treats will be. We’ll have to get to know each other.

Her name was Holly because she was a December intake. I have tentatively named her Daphne, partially after the nymph and partially after Daphne du Maurier because of her mystique and strange glamor.