#new WIP tomorrow y'all! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suzukiblu · 10 months ago

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okay FINE I'll do "think pink" for tomorrow's WIP Wednesday, hah. But also now I gotta post the cONTEXT so I can continue it from there, so y'all are just gonna have to have all this content and this here read-more, oh nooooo~ 💖

Kon shifts back on the mattress and lays himself out on his stomach, propped up on his elbows with his head not quite in Tim's lap, but definitely down on eye-level with his cock. His mouth feels that eager, greedy way again and he bites his tongue just to keep himself from licking his lips. He wants to do this right. He wants Tim to like this.

He wants to be good for him.

Tim's hand is still resting on top of his head, and he threads his fingers through Kon's hair again. Picks up his camera again too and snaps a few shots. Kon resists a stupid urge to duck his head or squirm; smirks up at him instead, and then sticks his tongue out at him.

Tim takes a picture of that, too.

“I realize this is a stupid thing to say given the whole nature of your creation and the fact I know you’ve been cloned yourself, but Jesus, do you have any idea what you look like right now?” Bernard says, rubbing at his own jaw and watching Kon intently. Kon feels warm and heated under that look, but also has to stifle a laugh at the thought.

“Can’t say Match and I have ever gotten along this well, so no, not really,” he says with a wry grin, wrapping a hand around Tim’s cock again and giving it a few long, slow strokes from root to tip. Tim hisses very, very quietly and takes another picture. Kon is immediately overwhelmed with options and has, actually, no idea what to do here. Or at least no idea where to start, anyway. Tim’s cock is a warm, perfect fit in his hand and he is having a very hard time not obsessing over just where and how else it might so perfectly fit, and he just wants to make him feel good, wants to make him like it, wants to make him happy–

He really, really wants that.

“Well, there’s a mental image,” Bernard muses consideringly. Tim’s fingers curl and his nails dig into Kon’s scalp. Kon pushes into them without really thinking it through, and Tim hisses again.

“Pet,” he says, his voice just a little bit strangled. Kon wants to make it crack. Kon wants to make him crack. He wants to know exactly how carried away Tim can get.

Exactly how carried away Tim wants to get.

“Tim,” he says, and licks his lips after all. It seems like such a dumb, cliche thing to do, but Tim and Bernard’s hearts both skip a beat watching him do it, and their pupils dilate in unison.

It’s a bit of a confidence booster, to put it mildly.

“Tim,” Kon repeats, leaning in just enough to nuzzle Tim’s cock before pressing a kiss against the side of it. It’s a lot more than just making out with them or jacking himself off to put on a show for them, and it feels like it should feel weird, but it just makes his gut twist and flip and heat. Tim letting him touch him this intimately, Tim letting him touch him at all . . . Tim letting him do all this is . . .

Fuck, pink kryptonite really is Kon’s new favorite thing.

“Told you I haven’t done this before, right?” he says even though he knows he did, then flicks the flat of his tongue out against the head of Tim’s cock. It twitches against his tongue, and he feels a rush of eager heat coiling low in his gut. “You gotta tell me how to make it good for you. How to be good for you.”

“Fuck,” Tim mutters under his breath, his fingers nearly slipping off the button of his camera.

“C’mon, you’re the boss, Robin,” Kon coaxes, and Tim exhales.

“Holy shit,” Bernard says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “You are a menace, you know that?”

“Kiss me again, pet,” Tim says, his voice gratifyingly rough and his fingers tightening in Kon’s hair. There’s no possible way he could yank it hard enough to hurt him, but his grip is still so careful.

Kon feels several fucking ways about that fact.

He presses another kiss to Tim’s cock, obviously, just above his own loosely-circled fingers, and then mouths up the length of it as he tightens his fingers around him again. Tim grunts, flattening his hand against his hair and sliding it around to cup the back of his head.

“Good boy,” he says. “Use your tongue.”

Kon does; ducks his mouth again and then drags his tongue back up Tim’s cock, broad and flat. Tim grits his teeth and knocks his head back against the headboard–against Kon’s jacket–and Kon feels like there’s something buzzing under his skin, like there’s something he can’t quite contain inside himself. It’s . . . been a while, he thinks. Since he felt that so much, he means. Like, it’s been a while since he fucked anyone at all, much less anyone he liked this much, but it’s been a while since he felt it like this.

Probably since he was with Cassie, come to think, which kinda makes sense.

He slides his tongue up and around the head of Tim’s cock and Tim chokes on another grunt. His hips don’t push up, but they do just barely shift. Kon feels even more of that buzzing warmth and kisses Tim’s cock again, wet and messy this time, and Tim curses under his breath and snaps a few more pictures. Kon winks up at him, not even trying not to smirk against his dick. Bernard laughs in delight and bites his knuckles.

“Holy shit,” he repeats reverently. Kon kind of wants him to put a hand in his hair too, maybe, or at least touch him some way or another.

“Good boy,” Tim repeats himself too, though in his case he has to do it through still-gritted teeth. Kon thinks about the fact he’s making Tim react this much, controlled and collected and always-prepared Tim, and the thought is one he really fucking likes. If he can affect Tim this much, if Tim likes what he’s doing this much . . .

Yeah, he definitely likes that.

“You listen so well. And you’re so eager,” Tim murmurs, his tone low and approving and spine-melting as he strokes through Kon’s hair again even more spine-meltingly. “Show me how much of me you can take.”

Kon doesn’t hesitate; doesn’t even wait long enough to crack a dirty joke or make a flirty comment. He just opens his mouth and drops it down over Tim, around Tim, letting Tim inside him, and . . .

And fuck, Kon thinks fleetingly, and then wraps his mouth fully around Tim’s cock and presses his tongue up against the underside as he slides down, and Tim’s hand tightens in his hair again, and–

Kon doesn’t really have a gag reflex, either because of the half-Kryptonian thing or because of the whole “weaned on a feeding tube” thing when he was initially being developed–who knows which–and he doesn’t really need to breathe all that much anymore either, so if Tim’s telling him to show him how much of him he can take . . .

Well. The logical thing to do is to really commit, isn’t it?

It feels–weird, a little, and kind of awkward and strange, but . . .

“Tilt your head back a bit and relax your throat,” Bernard advises, reaching over to tap a couple of fingers gently against the corner of Kon’s jaw, and Kon just–does. Because again, not much of a gag reflex, and also he can sort of just use his TTK to ease the whole process, so–yeah. He tilts his head and relaxes his throat, and pulls Tim’s cock into his throat.

It really does feel like a perfect fit, he thinks a little bit hazily, and then he swallows around him. Tim curses. Loudly.

“Okay, so Kryptonians can deepthroat on the first try,” Bernard observes conversationally, his fingers curling against Kon’s jaw. “Good to know. Useful information. Also, oh my god.”

“Good boy,” Tim says roughly, stroking a heavy hand through Kon’s hair, and Kon feels warm and buzzed and a little bit dazed, and just . . . rolls his tongue up tighter against the weight of his cock and swallows around him again. He should bob his head, he knows, but he kind of doesn’t want to. Just having Tim in his mouth like this, in his throat like this . . . “Fuck, pet. Look at me.”

Kon flicks his eyes up to Tim’s face again, though they’re heavy and unfocused-feeling, and finds himself looking into his camera lens again. Tim takes a few pictures.

Maybe a lot of pictures, actually, Kon’s vaguely aware, but he’s a little bit distracted right now. Just–Tim’s cock is a warm, solid weight in his mouth and on his tongue, hard and throbbing for him, and Tim told him he was good and told him to look at him and that’s . . . really all he’s worried about right now, yeah.

He sucks, obviously. Swallows around him; rolls his tongue up and tries to swallow him down farther, even though his nose is already practically pressing into Tim’s stomach. It’s just a reflex, more than anything else. Bernard’s fingertips are still on his jaw. He likes them there.

It’s a lot different from going down on a girl, obviously, but it gives him that same heady rush and feeling of usefulness he always gets from pleasing someone, which–well yeah, of course it does. The pink K is changing what he’s attracted to, not what he likes to do. So like, of course he’d still like giving oral and getting told he was doing a good job and all that stuff. It’d be weird if he didn’t.

Kon can’t really focus on Tim’s face past the camera, but Tim’s free hand is still in his hair and he can feel him through his TTK–him and Bernard both–and hear both of their accelerated heartbeats and quickened breathing. Tim's are more-so than Bernard, but Bernard isn't currently getting his dick sucked, so Kon figures that’s understandable.

He wants to touch him too, and considers reaching into his lap or just using his TTK to feel him up a bit, but he also wants to concentrate on this and make it as good as he can, do it as right as he can. He wants Tim to really, really love this. To think he’s doing well. To be pleased with and proud of him.

If he can make this good for Tim, be good for Tim–

Kon really wants to do that.

He makes himself bob his head; sucks tightly and doesn’t even pretend not to be using his TTK too, mimicking the same licking he’s already doing with a phantom tongue working in counterpoint to his own, and he cups and rolls Tim’s balls in his hand and lets another little tendril of TTK press up behind them and rub in along his taint.

Tim curses.

“That into it already, babe?” Bernard teases, sounding amused. Kon glances towards him a little muzzily and feels even warmer at the sight of the heated look on his face, but for obvious reasons keeps most of his attention on what he’s doing to Tim.

What he’s doing for Tim, more like.

“TTK,” Tim grits out, his voice a little strangled and fingers twisting just a little bit tighter in Kon’s hair.

“Oh,” Bernard says, his eyes widening. “Ohhhhh. Well, okay, that’s incredibly distracting. Jesus.”

“You're doing so good for your first time, pet,” Tim says, tight and tender, and Kon feels that heady rush again and lets out a stifled moan around his cock. Tim hisses, his hips twitching against the mattress, but the fingers he has twisted tight in Kon's hair stay careful. Stay gentle.

Kon would be perfectly fine with Tim yanking his hair as hard as he wants right now, but honestly, the fact he's keeping the totally unnecessary promise of being gentle with him is really doing it for him.

Like. Really.

He moans again; swallows Tim back down as far as he can and flexes his tongue and his TTK around him, and Tim makes a choked noise in the back of his throat and drags his fingers through his hair very, very gently. Kon is pretty sure he'd let Tim hold a kryptonite razor to his throat at this point in their lives and just assume if he decided to slash it, it was for the best.

So that's . . . definitely a way to feel about the guy whose dick is currently down his throat.

Fuck.

Kon squirms, just a little, and presses his hips down into the sheets as his own dick decides it's getting a bit more interested in the current proceedings. His refractory period is quick enough that he's surprised it took it this long to, frankly, because the whole experience of having Tim like this is more than a little overwhelming.

“So good, pet,” Tim grunts, and Kon's dick is definitely interested in that. “Don't stop. You look so pretty like this.”

“I feel like you could go with a much stronger descriptor than ‘pretty’ here,” Bernard says, trailing his fingers down under Kon's jaw and pressing his thumb in against the stretched-open corner of his mouth. “I don't know, ‘mind-meltingly hot’ or ‘fucking gorgeous’. ‘Probably illegal in half the sector and should be if you're not’, maybe.”

“Perfect,” Tim says, which is stronger enough that Kon nearly chokes before the bastard starts elaborating. “Always just what I need. Always so good for me. Always my boy. I can trust you with anything.”

Kon doesn't moan around him this time; he whines. Tim strokes his hair back off his face and he's vaguely aware of the camera shutter going off, or maybe having been going off this whole time, but all he can actually think about or do is suck Tim off. He digs his fingers into Tim's thighs and swallows around his cock and makes more near-pleading whining noises, and doesn't even care if it makes him sound stupid. Tim said he was doing good. Tim said he was perfect.

Yeah, no, Kon really doesn't give a fuck about anything else right now.

He really does wish they could've skipped the condom, though. The idea of Tim very literally coming in his mouth is–is a lot. And Tim said he wanted him to taste him.

Kon would absolutely do that for him, if it weren't like, a health issue or whatever.

His jaw doesn't ache, because he's too Kryptonian for that, and his mouth isn't going to look like he's been sucking cock because again, he's too Kryptonian for that. But they both feel used and sensitive in a new and unfamiliar way, and the tight slide of Tim’s cock along his tongue is weirdly hypnotic, and the hands they both have in his hair and on his jaw make him feel restless and eager and needy, and everything Tim says just sounds so, so good right now.

Kon wants him to keep talking as bad as he thinks he’s ever wanted anything in bed, so he puts in the fucking effort and does his best imitation of all the best blowjobs of his life; doesn’t hesitate or hold back or shy away, goes in hard and puts in the work, doesn’t half-ass any of it.

Lets himself be as eager as he feels.

But also takes his time, just a little, and savors.

“Fuck,” Tim chokes, and his head hits the headboard hard. His cock twitches in Kon’s mouth and gets even harder, and Kon feels–feels–“Good boy.”

Like that, yeah. He feels like a good boy.

Like Tim’s good boy, specifically.

That is actually doing even more for him than it usually would be. Like–Cassie-levels of “doing it for him”, again. Which still makes sense, obviously, but is just a lot. Kon should’ve expected it, probably, just . . .

“Oh, pet,” Tim breathes out roughly, petting his hair so gently, and Kon stops caring about anything else. Tim’s petting his hair and letting him touch him and putting up with him crashing his weekend, and that’s all that Kon gives a fuck about right now.

That and the way Bernard keeps tracing his fingers up his jaw and down his throat, anyway.

“You are an unfairly quick learner,” Bernard says, all delighted admiration and approval, and Kon tries to figure out if he can swallow Tim down any farther. Obviously no, because he’s already got every inch of him it’s possible to in his mouth and throat, but he really tries. Tim curses a few more times. Kon . . .

Kon doesn’t quite do it on purpose, but his TTK starts to sort of . . . wander, a little. Or–reach out a little, more like, and wrap itself around Tim and Bernard both and just sort of . . . hold on, maybe.

“Oh,” Bernard says, sounding breathless, and digs his nails in against Kon’s impenetrable skin. Kon can feel every inch of him; every inch of him and Tim both. “You really are a flirt, huh. And a real multi-tasker, too.”

Kon would do something to live up to the “flirt” rep, maybe, but it is just so much more important to suck Tim’s cock right now.

Like much, much more important.

He wonders how long Tim’s going to let him do this. Wonders how long he’s going to last, wonders if he likes it as much as he wants him to, wonders if–

Tim strokes the hand in his hair down the side of his face to cup his jaw and snaps another picture or five. Kon feels warm and heavy and electric. Tim likes it. Tim likes him. Tim’s petting him and taking pictures and–and he’s–

“Such a good boy for me,” Tim says, his voice a low, heated rasp, and Kon feels the kind of buzzing bliss he usually only gets when he’s way deep into a scene with somebody who’s really, really put the work in. Cassie got him there this easy, the handful of times they’d tried this kind of play, but . . . “So sweet. So obedient. Just what I want you to be.”

Kon definitely whines around Tim’s cock again, and definitely does his best to live up to that compliment. He’s dizzy and warm and his mouth is too full to talk past and his throat is too full to talk past, and Tim’s cupping his jaw and taking pictures of him and Bernard is drawing his fingers along the other side of his face and pressing the pad of his thumb in against his lower lip. It’s wet and slick with spit and Kon wishes it were wet and slick with Tim. Wishes Bernard were touching him more. Wishes Tim would fuck his mouth as gently as he’s petting his face right now.

“Just perfect,” Tim murmurs, and Kon swallows around his dick and grinds his own down into the mattress without really meaning to, because how could he ever listen to Tim talking to him like this and not do that? He wants touched more. He wants back between the two of them. He wants–

He grinds his hips down again, swallows Tim down again with a lingering shudder, and Tim–pauses.

“Pet,” he asks very, very carefully, his voice still a low rasp. “Are you . . . getting off on doing this?”

It’s not really a question Kon understands, because of course he’s doing that. Obviously he is. But he’s being good for Tim, being good for Tim is all he wants to do, so he just purrs in reply and bobs his head and works his mouth around him until Tim’s hand tightens against his jaw and his heartbeat is doing things Kon’s never heard it do before.

“Babe, I love you, but you are asking questions with very obvious answers right now,” Bernard says wryly.

“Pet,” Tim says tightly, back to breathing like the doors are gonna blow in and smoothing a hand back through Kon’s hair again. It feels so, so good. “Can you come like this for me? For my cock in your mouth like this?”

Kon definitely can.

And it’s not going to be much longer ‘til he definitely does, the way he feels right now.

Kon sucks harder, swallows tighter, works his mouth more and uses his TTK to help it out, and Tim hisses under his breath and still doesn’t yank his hair. Kon likes that so much.

Likes him so much.

He can’t keep himself from grinding his hips down into the sheets, it feels like, but Tim asked him if he could get off like this, so it’s not like he’s trying to stop or be patient. Not like he’s trying to hold anything back or behave. Tim wants him to do it, right? Wants him to get off like this. For this. So he’s–behaving, by doing this.

Being good by doing this.

Kon makes a noise. A tight, strangled one that he doesn’t quite know how to define. Tim trails his fingers along his temple and then back down to his jaw, soft and gentle, and this time Kon whimpers. He digs his fingers into Tim’s thighs again; drags them down and swallows him down. Tim curses. His camera goes off, though the lens isn’t aimed as carefully as before. Kon whimpers again and wants Tim to yank his hair, fuck his mouth, come in his mouth; use him like a thing and treat him however he wants and tell him how good he is for it.

If he’s a pet or an animal or just some stupid idiot humping the sheets while Tim and Bernard pet him and Tim’s cock fills up his mouth and throat–if he’s good, a good boy, Tim’s good boy–if he’s doing what Tim wants him to be doing–

If Tim is still, still, still being so gentle, just like he promised . . .

Well–then Kon is going to absolutely lose his fucking mind and melt into this fucking mattress, is what’s going to happen here.

But not before he makes Tim come.

He wants to make Tim come. He wants to see what he looks like after he does; wants to hear how he sounds, find out what he’ll do and say and–

“I need you to know, I am going to go actually insane before we’re done here,” Bernard informs Tim, shifting into his side and pressing a kiss in behind his ear as he curls his fingers in behind Kon’s ear. Kon feels weirdly, weirdly obsessed with that particular little parallel. “Like I’m feeling about a hop, skip, and a jump away from getting a gimmick and going full rogue here, that’s what’s happening in my head right now.”

“The only reason I haven’t lost my mind yet is because we had to use condoms,” Tim says very, very evenly.

“Really?” Bernard asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Because I’d have thought having to use condoms while thinking about how your boy didn’t want to would’ve shoved you right over the edge there, babe.”

“. . . ngh,” Tim mutters, tightening his grip in Kon’s hair as Kon shudders.

“Seriously,” Bernard says, biting his lip for a moment. “Like, the fact that if we were all less responsible people he’d be letting you come in him is really making me–”

“Ngh,” Tim says, screwing his eyes shut, and Kon thinks about how that might feel, about the idea of Tim coming in his mouth or maybe–

He muffles a heated groan around Tim’s cock, and Tim hisses through his teeth and knocks his head back against the headboard again. Back against Kon’s jacket again.

Kon really wants to ask him to wear it for a little while, and not because of any practical reasons like keeping the pink kryptonite in its pocket in close and doing its radioactive magic or anything like that.

“Just saying,” Bernard says, and Kon wants to feel him up and kinda wishes he could get both their cocks in his mouth right now or maybe–maybe–

If he'd waited, maybe they would've been up for trying out a spitroast kind of setup. Maybe they'll be up for trying that out later. Maybe–

Fuck, he wants more. Wants everything they've both got.

If he does this good enough, maybe they’ll give it to him.

“You look so good like this. I wish I could see my come on your face,” Tim murmurs lowly, trailing his fingers along the arc of Kon's cheekbone. “Wish I could make you drip with it.”

Kon and his total lack of gag reflex somehow actually choke. Tim's eyes flare.

“Don’t hurt yourself, pet,” Tim says as he strokes Kon’s face again, all tender and gentle like that’s actually something Kon could ever do this easily. It makes him feel–weird. Several kinds of weird.

It makes him feel like something that maybe could get hurt that easily, or maybe just something Tim doesn’t want to risk getting hurt no matter what, which is . . . a weird way to feel, honestly.

But he doesn’t–mind it, or anything. Doesn’t mind feeling like something that Tim wants to be careful with, something he wants to make sure not to break; not to hurt.

Yeah. No, he definitely doesn’t mind that at all.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Bernard mutters. “I am definitely going to lose my mind and die over this, I need a rogue gimmick, like, yesterday. What’s one nobody’s done yet, I don’t wanna be derivative or whatever.”

“Good luck finding that,” Tim snorts breathlessly, shaking his head. His thumb slides back along the arch of Kon’s cheekbone and it’s such a little touch, but it feels so–so sweet, for lack of a better word. Feels like Tim’s still being so careful.

Makes Kon feel like . . .

He grabs Tim’s hips and tugs hopefully at them, not sure if he wants the other to fuck his mouth or just wants to make sure he isn’t going to pull back or pull away. He bobs his head faster and swallows around his cock again and again, and Tim hisses sharp little curses under his breath, and Kon can’t help grinding his own cock down harder into the mattress.

“Fuck,” Bernard muses, pressing the pad of his thumb in against the corner of Kon’s stretched-open mouth again. “You’re really into this, huh.”

“That was a question?” Tim huffs, and Kon feels warm and good and warm.

“I was talking to Kon, babe,” Bernard says, and Tim hisses through his teeth and covers his face with a hand. “At this rate I think he’s gonna come before you do.”

He might be right, the way Kon feels right now. He doesn’t know if he even needs to worry about his cock to get himself off, if Tim’s gonna keep acting like this about everything.

“Pet,” Tim rasps, sliding a hand over the back of Kon’s neck and splaying his fingers across it. “Do you want to come like this? Do you like it?”

Kon would actually have to pull back to say anything in answer to that question, obviously, but he really doesn’t want to. He makes the most eager, encouraging noise he can figure out how to with his mouth full and swallows Tim down to the root and swallows around him, and Tim chokes roughly and knocks his head back against the headboard again.

Kon still can’t get over the fact that Tim doing that means he’s leaning back against his jacket.

Tim’s hips roll up into his mouth, stuttering and barely-controlled, but still gentle. Still careful. Still–

Tim’s fingers curl in Kon’s hair, and Kon’s whole fucking brain shorts out and he comes into the sheets with a choked, gasping moan, and has no idea why having Tim’s cock filling up his mouth for it feels so good. It all feels so good, though, and he doesn’t really . . . he’s not . . .

“Shit, Kon, did you just–” Bernard starts while Kon’s still shuddering his way through it and kind of forgetting how to think, sounding delighted, and–

“Fuck!” Tim groans, and comes too.

Comes in Kon’s mouth. Because of him. Because of how he’s touching him and how he’s using his mouth and how he’s being good for him.

Kon whines around his mouthful of cock and lets Tim ride out his orgasm completely before he lets his cock slip out of his throat and wipes the spit off his face. Tim is panting.

Kon . . . nuzzles him.

His dick, he means. He nuzzles that.

“Jesus fucking fuck, Kon, I . . .” Tim trails off with a groan, putting a hand over his eyes. Bernard was very right about how good he looks after coming. Like, if anything, he undersold it. Kon presses a careful little kiss against the root of Tim’s softening cock before nuzzling it again, feeling blurry and buzzed and so, so good. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to make Tim come until the other kicks him off, and then he wants to see if making Bernard come will feel even half this good.

He bets he could make sure it would, he thinks, and licks his lips.

Tim groans.

“Maybe I should’ve told Supergirl to expect you next Monday,” Bernard says, openly staring. Kon still feels too buzzed to properly preen under the attention, but it makes him feel warm anyway.

“Mmmkay,” he hums, feeling just a little . . . floaty, maybe. Like, in a good way, just . . . floaty, yeah. “Whenever y'want. Just keep me 'til y'get bored or whatever.”

“I dunno, dude, you already said you weren't the marrying kind,” Bernard says wryly, reaching out to pet his hair again.

Kon feels warm.

“Mmmmm, alright, then just tell me when you need that party favor for your bachelor party, 'kay?” he murmurs, nuzzling into Bernard’s hand with a little shiver before returning his attention to Tim’s cock. “Bet Superman'll gimme pink K for that.”

“Ngh,” Tim says.

Kon’s kinda starting to like that sound, he thinks.

He kisses the base of Tim’s cock again, then lifts his head to drag his tongue over the tip, where his come is trapped inside the condom. Wonders what Tim’s refractory period is like. Wonders if–

“Stop,” Tim rasps, and Kon would feel disappointed, but being good for Tim is just as good as getting him off. “Just–c’mere, pet. Head in my lap, and roll over on your back.”

Kon doesn’t know why Tim wants him to do that, but he’s not really worried about it. Tim always has the best ideas, after all. So he shifts up a bit as Tim strips off the condom and tosses it before tucking his cock away again, which seems like a shame, and then Kon rolls over and ends up stretched out across the bed with his head in Tim’s lap, just like he asked. Tim wraps his arms around him, which is nice, and smoothes his hands down his chest.

“Color?” Tim asks. Kon doesn’t understand what he’s–oh, right.

“Green,” he hums contentedly, pressing up into Tim’s hands and tipping his head back against Tim’s stomach. Tim sighs. He sounds a little relieved, for some reason. Kon’s not sure why. There’s no way he’d be anything but green right now.

“Good,” Tim says. “Bernard, can you grab the–oh, thanks. Pet, Bernard’s going to clean you up a little, alright?”

Kon wonders what Tim wanted, but then Bernard’s leaning over him and it doesn’t seem important anymore, so he just hums again and lets his eyes half-close as he hears a little ripping sound and then Bernard is running a wet wipe over the mess of come he got all over himself.

He’d be embarrassed that he wasn’t handling his own mess, maybe, but it feels nice. He was kind of sticky, he guesses, especially after coming in the sheets while grinding in them. So . . . the bed’s also kind of sticky, he guesses. And he’s pretty sure he’s still at least halfway lying in his own come, considering.

He doesn’t really care. Tim’s hands are on his chest and Bernard’s being nice enough to clean him up and he just feels warm and good and like he’s being good and . . . and it’s nice. Really nice.

So yeah, he doesn’t care.

Actually, he doesn’t care about much of anything right now, except for how nice this is.

“Good boy,” Tim says, smoothing one of his hands up Kon’s chest and throat and then stroking his hair again. Kon feels even nicer, and hums softly in response. He assumes Tim wants a response, anyway. Probably. Maybe. “How do you feel, pet?”

“M’good,” Kon sighs contentedly, though he only bothers with saying anything at all because he wants to be good for him. It feels really good and really nice and Tim is just . . . he really likes this. So much.

He never gets treated this nice. Or at least, hasn’t in a really long time.

Well . . . he hasn’t been dating much, he guesses, so . . . like really, he’s pretty sure the last time he went out with anybody was before Tim and Bernard even started dating, so . . .

. . . actually, huh. It was, wasn’t it.

Kon frowns, very briefly, and thinks . . . did he actually . . . stop dating people right when Tim got a boyfriend? Like . . . what, as an actual triggering event? Why would he . . . ?

“I cannot believe how good you are at being good for me,” Tim mutters, stroking his hair again, and Kon forgets what he was thinking about and tips his head back again to peer up at him as Bernard tosses out the used wet wipe with a snigger. “Shut up, Bernard, you don’t know how many goddamn problems this could’ve solved for Young Justice back in the day. You have no idea.”

“Oh, could it have, babe?” Bernard asks, and cackles. Tim scowls at him. Kon . . . Kon has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about the idea of Tim ordering him around in the Robin suit in possibly inappropriate ways and places and times back in the day and . . . and, uh . . .

“Yeah, guess that would’ve been a good way to shut me up when I got too mouthy, huh?” he tries to joke, feeling a little–weird, maybe, and Tim’s fingers curl gently behind his ears.

“I was more thinking the team would've had a mutually enjoyable way to reward you for good behavior,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“. . . oh,” Kon manages, and feels his face burn. And then he has a lot more thoughts that are a lot more inappropriate about . . . about maybe just . . . about what that might’ve been like, maybe, if he’d been good and earned a reward for “good behavior” and then Tim had–Robin, because they hadn’t even known his name then, actually–and then Robin had just . . . let him be good for everybody else too, maybe. Like, they’d had enough of those team sleepovers, they could’ve just . . .

He’d have been so good, he thinks. He’d have taken care of all the girls just how they wanted and done anything Robin told him to and–well, maybe it would’ve been a little weird with Bart, he’s not sure how that would’ve worked, but Robin could’ve just told him what to do, again, and . . .

Like–he could’ve, that’s all.

Kon’s pretty sure he could’ve done that without the pink kryptonite, if he was just, like–doing what Robin told him to do for Cissie or Cassie or “Suzie”. Like . . . even if it might’ve been a little weird and he couldn’t have gotten to touch him, that would’ve been . . .

That’s just–a thought, kind of.

Well, he guesses his next sex dream’s gonna involve getting to play the starring role in a team gangbang. Good to know, he guesses.

Or mortifying, maybe. But . . .

“Real missed opportunity, there,” Tim says, and Kon bites his lip to repress the urge to squirm. He thinks about the idea of Robin telling him how to kiss Suzie or go down on Cissie or fuck Cassie, and it’s . . .

Fuck, it’s a thought, isn’t it.

He wonders if Robin would’ve told him what to do for Bart, too. Like–if that would’ve been a thing, if it’d ever come up. He wonders how that would’ve felt. Just . . . doing whatever Robin told him to, pink kryptonite or not, and . . .

That is a very weird thought, Kon recognizes, and then Bernard leans forward a little and he remembers–shit, Bernard’s been waiting all this time, he needs to–

Tim strokes a hand through his hair, and Kon–hesitates. Settles, slowly. Bernard grins at Tim, and Tim smiles back at him. Kon watches them.

He likes how they look at each other. He’s never gotten to see it, except in the sense of seeing Tim smile at his phone sometimes when he’s texting Bernard. Finally seeing Bernard’s half of the equation is . . . affecting, kind of.

And really nice.

Tim deserves to get a grin like that directed at him, so–yeah. Definitely nice, Kon thinks, and settles a little more.

“Pet,” Tim murmurs, his voice all soft and gentle as he strokes Kon’s collarbones. “Do you want to stay in my lap like this while Bernard gets you ready for our cocks? Does that sound nice?”

Kon nearly bites his tongue.

“Yeah,” he manages to croak, reaching up to wrap his hands around Tim’s wrists and half-reflexively spreading his thighs as he does. “I–yeah. That sounds–yeah, I wanna do that.”

He really wants to do that, actually.

“Fuck,” Tim and Bernard mutter in unison. Kon would laugh, but the way they both say it is just really, really fucking flattering.

#wip: think pink #timberkon

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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months ago

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To get out of my writing rut I started and have very nearly finished an entirely new fic.

I know my WIPs need some love but sometimes to find my desire to write I need to create fresh material.

Hopefully will post tomorrow.

HOPE Y'ALL WANNA GET RAILED BY AN ALPHA CAVE MAN TRICERATOPS HYBRIIIIIID.

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skyrim-forever · 8 days ago

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WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone, it is another Wednesday (my dudes)! Thanks to the lovely @umbracirrus and @hircines-hunter for tagging me <3

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark

@captain-of-silvenar @changelingsandothernonsense @lady-iizsil @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

This is going to be a long af post because I ran a poll trying to decide what to post, but I'm just gonna give y'all a bit of each because *gestures vaguely to the world* at least we have blorbos <3 First up is another bit from the family fic, then some smut under the cut from another wip that i will have done soon or i will end up on the news MDNI: PICK YOUR POISON BESTIES

“Happy to be free of the misery and dread of Winterhold?” He earns a playful punch before Ceri joins her boyfriend on a sofa.

“You sound too much like Ata.”

“You say that now.” He reaches for something in his armour, a folded paper. “I’ve accepted an offer from a man in Skyrim, wants help going through some Nord tomb.” Walking over to his sister, he shows her the letter, distinctly pointing to the bottom.

“May Talos guide you.” She laughs. “Oh, what would Ata say?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and besides, I do not get paid to care about religion. He could be Tiber Septim reborn for all I care. Might even be good actually, could charge him more.”

“Well then, may Talos guide you Arthano. To Sovengarde!” He rapidly ruffles the top of her hair.

“Shut up.” He laughs.

It is a funny moment between them but Ralos can’t help but feel like he is missing something. He knew the worship of Talos had been a major point of contention between Altmer and Nords; particularly when the Thalmor were in operation. It seems their father would be especially concerned, no, upset, to learn of who his son was working for. But the way neither Arthano nor Ceri seemed to find it anything more than funny puzzled him. It can’t just be his Altmer beliefs…

The kisses are slow for a bit, enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually, Ondolemar’s lips find their way to her neck. The marks he leaves will no doubt be difficult to cover tomorrow, but that is the furthest thing from her mind as she grinds her hips into his.

“I’m going to miss you.” She hums.

“And what will you miss most?” Hands move down to her thighs, creeping their way underneath her nightgown.

“Unfortunately, you have me in a compromising position, my love. I cannot answer fairly at the moment.” Her own hands remove themselves and glide down his bare chest.

“Then don’t.” She pulls the nightgown overhead, tossing it across the bedroom. There’s no time for him to react before she is sliding down, knees resting on the hardwood as she looks up at him. Even in the low candlelight, she can see his expression has changed; a deeper hunger written on his face. Head resting on one thigh while her hand makes its way up the other, tracing the outline of his erection through the thin pants.

“Well. now I certainly cannot.” He groans as she removes his cock, stroking the flesh itself now.

“I’m still waiting for an answer, love.”

“Oh course you are. You want to hear all about how I’m going to miss you like this. How much I enjoy seeing you on your knees for me.” His left hand runs through her hair, smoothing through it as her strokes quicken. “I’ll even miss how you torture me, memories of you like this flashing through my mind at the most inconvenient times. So much has changed except for your ability to distract me from work.”

#wip wednesday #my writing #arthano is a lot like his father #but not in every way #like he mother he can ignore certain things for the right motivation #charging tiber septim more? king behaviour #also smut #this smut scene has nearly killed me I don't why it's been so hard #it also ran away from me #this was supposed to have a different motivation #smut #tw: smut #mdni

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anincompletelist · 10 months ago

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wip wednesday :D

happy wednesday y'all! thank you to @eusuntgratie @kiwiana-writes @magicandarchery @inexplicablymine @theprinceandagcd @getmehighonmagic @zwiazdziarka @iboatedhere @read-and-write- @songliili @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the lovely tags! y'all have been putting out BANGERS lately and I am eating every last one of them up and (very respectfully) begging for more pls.

so I guess kinktober is happening in february for me because I have three dom!Henry/dom!alex fics on the docket and just maybe kind of sort of started a fourth??????? so have some ...... kinkruary? febkinky? honestly I have no idea [insert valentine's pun here????]

(slightly nsfw so last part is under the cut!)

The thing is, Henry reasons, that perhaps the freedom that the brownstone provides them has gone a bit to his head. Once the door is locked behind Alex at the end of the day it feels like the world narrows down to only Henry’s most favorite things, things he can revel in without fear of them being ripped away from him now.

The thing is, the years before Alex came along had been so dull and now Henry craves the rush that he inevitably brings with him like air sometimes. Feels a zip up his spine when he hears the key in the door, Alex’s bag hitting the ground, already bracing himself for the touch.

The thing is, Henry loves the give as much as he loves the take and this— this is a little bit of both. He’s never had all that much power, not in any of the ways that matter. Henry doesn’t necessarily want control, not all the time anyway, but he does want a choice. And Alex gives him a choice at every turn, whether they’re discussing a new dynamic in the bedroom or talking about their futures or simply deciding which breakfast food they prefer for the next morning.

The thing is, what he really wants is this: Alex walking in the front door and locking it behind him, his button-up still on and work-worn. Alex finding him wherever he happens to be that day, writing in the study or rifling through the pantry or reading on the sofa or napping in their bed. Alex offering him little to no pleasantries as he simply undoes his belt and takes what he needs, leaving Henry reeling, the most wanted—loved—he’s ever felt in the hazy aftermath.

The thing is— this could work.

Supposing Henry ever actually musters up the courage to tell Alex about it, that is.

would love to read anything you guys have to share but no pressure! @msmarvelouswinchester @nocoastposts @affectionatelyrs @bigassbowlingballhead @rockyroadkylers @sparklepocalypse @firstsprinces @priincebutt @littlemisskittentoes @ninzied @matherines @cricketnationrise @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew @firenati0n <333

see you guys tomorrow for bridesmaids! :D

#wips #I don't know where this came from I am so sorry

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hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 9 months ago

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Six Sentence Sunday

Greetings, my dearest loves, and welcome back to another installment of "Val has worked a ridiculous amount of hours this week/weekend, AND she has to work tomorrow, so she's scheduling the shit out of this post and going to sleep!" Hooray!

I went back and forth on which snippet to share with y'all this week. Did I decide to go with another portion of the next chapter of At the End of a Bar, that nearly every reader/commenter has been begging for a continuation of (and making me blush every time)? Or did I choose a portion of a new WIP that I started before the sun had even risen earlier this week while talking with @thinkof-england about some...things I can't yet share...that were going on in my personal life?

Well...since the new WIP barely HAS six sentences, I'm going to be gracious and give y'all more than six sentences of At the End of a Bar. Enjoy! (Hopefully)

He’s already heard Henry laugh. Several times, in fact, in several ways, just tonight alone. A nervous giggle when Alex leaned in and whispered that he was the hottest person he’d ever seen. An incredulous huff when he revealed his favorite Star Wars movie and Alex informed him how completely and utterly wrong he was. A full-bodied howl of a thing that turned a few heads as he recalled the look on his ghoul of a grandmother’s face when he told her that he was moving to Texas and would be riding more than just horses. But the laugh that crosses the boundary of his perfect lips when he comes can only be described as euphoric. A sound so exquisite that anyone who’s ever heard it should consider themselves blessed to have witnessed such a remarkable thing. Head thrown back, blond hair glistening with sweat, pink lips pulled over white teeth in a wide, gummy grin, blue eyes practically glowing. Alex would like nothing more than to be the cause of such utter bliss every day, several times a day, for as long as Henry will allow him.

Putting some no-pressure tags out into the universe and behind the cut, as well as laying out an open tag for anyone else who might wish to tag me and share their beautiful work from this past week!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @barbiediaz @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @duchessdepolignaca03 @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @guillermosfamiliar @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @msmarvelouswinchester @mulderscully @ninzied @notspecialbabe @onthewaytosomewhere @priincebutt @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @songliili @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @suseagull04 @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @tintagel-or-cockleshells @typicalopposite @user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew @zwiazdziarka

#six sentence sunday #actually nine sentence sunday #sorry not sorry #some sentence sunday #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my wips #my fics #my writing

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dangerpronebuddie · 6 months ago

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Inspiration Saturday!!

Tagged by... so many people throughout the week, including @hippolotamus and @tizniz today who both wrote INCREDIBLE stuff y'all should show some love! 🩷💜

Thank y'all so much for the tags, even though I haven't been writing much this week. Good news is, I'm done with finals!!! 🥳 With school out of my hair for now, I can focus on my longer fics... Maybe lol. Right now, I have a new wip that's going to be done tomorrow, hopefully. It is pure angst, and I apologize 😬. It's inspired by this post from @lover-of-mine. I'm sharing a snippet, and I really want some help with the title. So...

(snippet under the cut)

"I wasn't belittling you," Helena says, "I was just trying to say that he needs a mother-" "His mother is dead." Eddie spits out the words like they burned his tongue, the fire coursing down to his heart and scorching the muscle. For the first time, probably ever, it actually hits him. Shannon doesn't need time. She hasn't left for a while with the promise of coming back. She isn't anything like Kim, and Kim isn't anything like her. She isn't on a beach somewhere waiting for him. Shannon is dead. "His mother is dead," he says again in a shaky whisper. "Shannon's dead." His stomach lurches, just like it had when he saw her lying in the crosswalk. Her weak voice echoes in his ears as he slumps against the fridge. The tears he's been holding back since he woke up in the hospital stream down his face and he follows them, letting gravity take him to the kitchen floor. He covers his face with his hands, if anything to keep from having to see the look on his mother's face. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest, and for a moment he thinks it's the start of a panic attack, but the ache is different. He can still breathe, he's hardly struggling beyond the hiccupped sobs ripping free of his throat. The ache beneath his sternum sends him right back to that ambulance, smiling through tears in the foolish hope that being brave would comfort his dying wife. "She's dead," he whispers again, tasting bile on his tongue. He swallows thickly and curls his hands in on themselves, thumping them against his forehead in a sick semblance of a prayer.

Again, I apologize.

Absolutely no pressure tagging:

@13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @thekristen999

@daffi-990 @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard @actuallyitsellie @fortheloveofbuddie

@diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann

@kitteneddiediaz @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6 @misshiss727 @likeamollusconarock

@lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92 @smallandalmosthonest @thegeekcompanion

@emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷

#911 #eddie diaz #helena diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers #a little #9-1-1 #911 wip #inspiration saturday #maggie writes #fanfic

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indestructibleheart · 9 months ago

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Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick."

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes. Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor.

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth.

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically.

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face.

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table.

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

#wip:snippet #m:wip #fic: breaking character

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flavored-soda · 6 months ago

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sad news y'all: i will not be live-blogging tonight. in fact, i will probably be offline to avoid spoilers until at least 5/11-5/12. so you'll be seeing a lot of queue posts.

the good news is that i'm currently trying to finish up some WIPs so they can be posted tonight or tomorrow.

my requests are also officially open! if you have a fic you wanna see me write, come scream at me in my asks. the asks and requests rules are here.

#911 abc #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 show #911 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 on abc #tevan #evan buck buckley #kinley #911 season 7 #flavored talks #fanfiction requests #requests #requests open #send requests

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missvelvetsstuff · 10 months ago

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Just a Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Reader is 47 and has adult kids who aren't sure about her new beau.

Chapter 8

Notes: it feels like it's been forever but I'm still alive. The holidays were rough, we were all sick and broke but my family is together and that's what's important. The husband and oldest are both working full time now and it's gonna take some time but life is heading back towards our normal level of broke.

My muse is very slowly waking up and I'm hoping to find the inspiration to get back to work on my other wip's and even have an idea or two for new stories.

I just realized that I've gone over 1000 followers and can only offer my shock and gratitude to y'all.

Hope this is worth the wait.

Warnings: swearing, angst

Y/N was too busy for the next few days to do more than work and sleep. Contract disputes arose in Malaysia which meant 3 nights away from home. It wasn't so bad, Pepper always had the best of everything and wasn't stingy.

She struggled to sleep with the time changes and late night meetings, only wishing she could go home to her own bed and sleep for at least a day straight.

That might not help her dreams. They started sweet before turning sexy and she never had the chance to get any release when they went bad. In one dream she let Bucky tie her up and he quickly went from teasing to torturing. If she was lucky she woke up screaming but sometimes she couldn't wake herself up and was trapped by the Winter Soldier, who then morphed into John, until something woke her up.

The first night home from Malaysia she woke up crying and went down to the kitchen for some tea, only to find Dawn waiting with her mug and the tea kettle whistling.

Dawn spoke softly.

"Come have a cuppa and talk to me Sissy. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages"

Y/N scoffed softly "Don't be so melodramatic I've only been gone for a few days."

Dawn shrugged "It's not the same here when you're gone. Maybe I'll get a dog."

Y/N smirked "Fine, as long as it's not some yappy purse dog. Pits and Shepherds are good."

Dawn's smile grew "You said fine, I'm getting a puppy next Saturday. You want to come to the shelter with me?"

Y/N smiled and nodded "I'm in."

Dawn poured hot water in their mugs "Now that's been settled. What's going on? I heard crying."

Y/N shook her head "Nothing. I'm just severely jet-lagged and can't sleep. My schedule is all fucked up. I'll be alright, just need some sleep. Luckily, Pepper gave me tomorrow off."

Dawn looked at her pointedly "None of that equals crying so tell me."

Y/N shrugged "Weird dreams involving James and John, I don't know how to sort them out. I miss James, was looking forward to seeing him and now I don't know when that will be. I don't miss Johnny but do hope he's alright."

Dawn nodded "Some sleep will help. And a puppy. Definitely need a puppy."

Y/N chuckled "So we can fight over who he sleeps with?"

Dawn smirked "So we'll get two puppies."

Y/N rolled her eyes at her sister and drank her tea before Dawn gave her a hug and she went back to her room to try and get some sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the world things weren't going much better. John hadn't stopped complaining since he saw Bucky that first day. Bucky had been getting some amusement over Johns whining but was ready to put him down after the three of them got into it with some small time organized criminals who accused them of dealing on their turf.

Or that's what they thought until Sam realized one of them was enhanced.

Instead of focusing on taking the men down, John spent most of that fight trying to get the shield from Sam who ended up hurt pretty badly over it.

Bucky had enough and was giving John a piece of his mind when John tried to sucker punch him.

Unfortunately for John, he was still adjusting to his enhancement from the serum, while Bucky had been fighting with the serum for decades and caught John's fist with his vibranium hand.

He glared at John but couldn't help smirking when John realized he was caught.

Bucky squeezed John's hand "You gonna stop acting like a bitch or do I have to break your fucking hand?"

John whined "No, you can't you'll lose your pardon. I'll say you started it."

Buckys grin grew as John fell to his knees "You're on thin ice with the govt already, sure you want to take that chance?"

John cried out "Fine! Fine. Shit!!" and clutched his right hand to his chest when Bucky released it.

Bucky offered a hand up which John slapped away, making Bucky laugh out loud before he went to check on Sam. They took a day to let Sam rest and recover.

By the end of the week looking for the power broker, nerves were frayed. Sam was ready to let Bucky have at John and just turn his head.

Friday night found the three men and Sharon drinking mini bar shots in a hotel suite in Croatia.

Sharon was all over Bucky even after he repeatedly and politely asked her to stop.

Sam was practically passed out on one of the chairs, mumbling out comments at the game of Cards Against Humanity they had been playing for 4 hours.

John was a little better off than Sam but likely only because of the serum.

Sharon had been going in and out for at least an hour but her occasional snores made John and Bucky giggle.

Bucky downed 3 tequila shots in quick succession, wishing for even a slight buzz for his efforts, before elbowing John in the ribs.

It didn't occur to him that he was inebriated and spoke in a slurring stage whisper "Hey" he tapped John's shoulder "Hey!" John mumbled then snored so Bucky slapped him across the face, 'gently' with his flesh hand "JOHNNY!!"

John sat up abruptly "What? Goddammit Olivia why are you waking me up. Stupid bitch."

He looked around for a moment before realizing where he was when he saw Bucky staring at him. John scoffed "What the buck do you want Fucky? Keep bugging me and I'll make sure you never get near my sister again."

John looked around some more until he saw Sharon "Sharon!!" When she groaned and rolled over he mumbled again. "Fucking cunt better wake up so we can....."

Bucky listened to his mumbling, trying to figure out what John was doing with Sharon. He couldn't understand why he felt drunk all of a sudden but blacked out before he could figure it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the week flew by and on Sunday Y/N was preparing tacos for dinner with her kids.

Jessie arrived early and helped while discussing work and a guy she met on her lunch break.

Michael showed up late and Y/N could smell the alcohol on his breath. She wasn't pleased with that but knew it would make it easier to get his secrets out of him.

Y/N heard her phone dinging in her bedroom and left Jessie to watch the meat.

When she looked at the text there was no number listed and a bunch of dark pics with a nude couple, obviously mid coitus. She gasped when she saw the glint of gold on Bucky's left arm and her stomach fell when she saw the woman on top of him had long blonde hair that was definitely not hers. Her eyes filled with tears and she quickly shuffled to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and put her phone away to be dealt with later.

Jessie scoffed at her brother "What is wrong with you Mikey?"

Michael smirked at her "Just celebrating, my dear sister. Getting rid of some dead weight." He laughed at his comments and Jessie growled at her brother.

She grabbed his collar "You better not be screwing with mom or Sargent Barnes." She stood on her tiptoes and looked him in the eyes "I will fuck you up if you hurt her, Mikey. I'm not playing."

Michael scoffed "A little heartbreak today will spare her from much worse later on. Now can we eat yet?"

Y/N overheard Michael but couldn't understand half of his words. She shook her head, knowing he was up to something because he almost never drank, and walked up to her kids.

"Michael, can you set the table please. Auntie is out so it's just the three of us."

Michael scoffed "She's gonna end up with AIDS or something, as much as she whores around."

Y/N bristled and tapped him upside his head "MICHAEL DAVID! What the Hell is wrong with you? You will not speak of your aunt like that."

He rolled his eyes "You talk about uncle Johnny like that all the time. What's the difference?"

She sighed "Jessie, can you make some coffee for your brother?" Then turned on her son "The difference is that Dawn helped raise you and has always been there for all of us while Johnny disrespected me and your father every chance he got. Or did you drink so much you forgot about that? I don't know what's going on but you better think real hard about the next thing you say to me."

Michael looked in her eyes and spat "If you cared so much about dad then why are you disrespecting him by fucking a war criminal?"

His head was turned before he realized she had slapped him. His hand flew up to his cheek and he looked at her in shock.

"You know I loved your father and more importantly he knew but he has been gone for over 5 years. Do you expect me to live alone for the rest of my life? I'm almost 50, not almost dead and I deserve to be loved, dammit."

She paused to take a sip of her wine "And James is a good man who was forced into fucked up circumstances. The government has pardoned him and you don't need to make his life any more difficult than it already is." She shook her head "I don't know how you ended up such a selfish and judgemental prick but your father would be ashamed. Now help your sister bring the food in."

Michael just stared at his mother before walking away muttering "That assholes life will be real simple when he's locked up on the Raft."

He pulled his phone out and didn't realize Jessie was listening until he ran into her "What have you done, Michael? I can't believe you would sabotage Moms happiness."

He scoffed "She'll get over it. Be easy for a slut like her to find another guy."

Jessie punched him in the stomach and took his phone away when he doubled over. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the messages from their uncle and she shoved Michael to the floor before hurrying to the dining room

"MOM!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early morning that same day, Bucky woke up feeling hungover, in a strange bed. It took a few minutes for him to sit up and remember where he was. He held his head and groaned, jumping when he heard a moan right next to him. He looked over and practically fell out of bed trying to get away from his bed mate. When he hit the floor he realized that he was naked. Grabbing the blanket he stood up awkwardly trying to cover his nudity. As he pulled on it he saw it sliding off of the person in his bed, who he definitely didn't want to uncover.

She groaned "Jimmy, baby what's wrong?"

Bucky shook his head "Sharon? What the fuck are you doing in here? I told you to leave me alone."

Sharon giggled "Yeah you started that way but as the night went on you got much friendlier. Come back and I'll show you." She invited as she uncovered herself.

Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head "Nononono, Sharon you need to go. I don't want this, I don't want you. This didn't happen."

Sharon pouted "It definitely happened. Wanna see the pictures?"

"What? Pictures? What did you do to me Sharon? I remember drinking, playing some crazy card game and waking up just now." Bucky felt his heart speeding up and felt light headed "No, this didn't happen. You and John did something to me. You drugged me."

Sharon smiled wickedly "Aawww, how could little ol me do anything to a big bad super soldier? I think you wanted me and took what you wanted. Nothing wrong with that." She shrugged. "I definitely enjoyed it and the evidence says you did too."

Bucky could feel a panic attack coming on and felt his knees buckle before he dropped to the floor, his head fell into his hands "No. This can't be real. Please God don't let this be real."

Chapter 9

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #just a number

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