#which. not complaining. i’m just wondering what triggers it

[liveyun]

you’re an idiot (so am i) | j.jk

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem oc/reader

rating. M

genre. enemies to 👀, university AU, neighbours AU, comedy, drama, romance, angst, slight smut

warnings. coarse language, crACK like lOTS OF IT, theyre both idiots. excessive bickering,,, gym related stuff,,, Medical school itself is a warning,, unhealthy amounts of protein mentions,, i’m Sorry if you’re a gymbro 😭🙏🏾, awkwardness, oc gets slightly injured, it gets slightly smutty 👀, unspoken feelings bc they both suck at communicating, some Cute stuff, that should be it but lmk if i missed any, its 4am

wc. 4.5k +

if this writing style flops, i’ll probably quit writing too 💀

it’s 7:04 AM

or is it really. what is the time again

unfortunately you are awake.

and it’s not by choice.

it’s because your protein 💪 PROTEIN 💪 MORE PROTEIN 🏋️ gymrat neighbour is up, doing burpees in his living room

and the walls between your apartments are criminally thin

and you’re convinced he’s trying to invent a new form of torture through burpees because the sQUEAKING OF HIS DAMN SHOES ARE JUST AS LOUD AS AN ALARM CLOCK!!

why is he even awake at this ungodly hour, you wonder for the 8293838th time since moving in

you feel like crying

for rEAL.

it was around 5:30 am when u finally had let out a sigh of relief at having finally completed your assignment

you roll out of bed, hair resembling a bird’s nest

what else is bed hair supposed to look like

“O YEA!”

here we go

again

you feel like ripping your already damaged hair bc why does he have to be so damn loud

has no occupant not filed a complaint against him yet?

so now u consider knocking on his door to complain... but you remember what happened the last time you tried

jungkook had answered the door holding two dumbbells liKe they were extensions of his arms, shirtless, smiling so brightly it could cure vitamin D deficiency

you knew you were cooked the moment smirked at you gawkinG at his physique and you felt your cheeks warming up

“oh, hey, Y/N,” he’d said, casually flexing mid-sentence with that stupid grin on his face “need something? Or just admiring the view?”

you haven’t known peace ever since

by 8:15 AM, you’ve surrendered to fate and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee

you swEar you hear Jungkook’s blender whirring as he makes another one of his infamous protein shakes

does he even eat anything which does not have protein powder

like ok you understand the value of protein

but anything which has that stupid thing in it automatically tastes like the Biggest Piece of Dogshit

and somehow that’s what you neighbour has 24/7

last week he had accidentally left one in the communal fridge

it smelled like death and regret.

absolute L

anyway u think u need to get something in ur system too and thats when u open your fridge

and sigh

it’s empty.

except for a jar of pickles and a, uh, questionable carton of oat milk

yea. you’ll have to get brunch today. no futher questions asked

10:32 AM

ur first class of the day

and guess what

u have made the mistake of sitting near Jungkook in the lecture hall.

again! 😍

u swear that u are trying to focus on the lecture but is it really your fault that jungkook looks extra,,,...,,,

beefy

his notebook is open, but instead of notes, he’s drawing a disturbingly accurate diagram of biceps

and the shading looks pretty accurate too

he notices you staring, oof “anatomy is about more than just books, Y/N.”

you feel a muscle near your eye twitch

“i really don’t remember asking.”

ouch

that came out a bit too rude. . .

you feel like u should say sorry or something but he just flashes you that golden retriever grin

and somehow, you’re the one who feels stupid

12:10 PM

you’d think a med school lunch break would feel like a break

but no

the first thing you hear is the unmistakable pop of jungkook’s tupperware lid. it’s like pavlov’s bell, but instead of a dog, it triggers your impending irritation

of course it’s chicken, broccoli, and rice. gymrat starter pack™

does this man even know other foods exist?

atleast it doesn’t look unseasoned so maybe you can take it

you’re not the one having it anyway

“bon appétit,” he says with that smug grin, shoveling a forkful into his mouth like he’s filming a mukbang

you side-eye your sad excuse of a sandwich. “don’t you ever get bored of eating that?”

he gasps like a victorian man having seen the ankle of his wife for the first time

“bored? of gains? never.”

the chewing. oh god, the chewing. it’s so loud you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose

crunch. chew. sip of water from the world’s largest bottle. repeat.

“do you have to eat like a vacuum?”

he pauses, fork mid-air, and looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. then he grins. “do you have to be this cute when you’re annoyed?”

wha— cough!!

did you just choke at your sandwich infront of him?

-100 aura points

your brain just blue-screens

what the hell are you supposed to do with that information

12:22 pm

you haven’t touched your chips yet. you’re saving them for after jungkook’s food massacre ends

his tupperware is licked clean but he’s already eyeing your bag of chips like a hawk

“you gonna eat those?”

“yes, jungkook, i’m gonna eat my chips”

“cool”

c r u n c h

he’s already eaten half the bag.

u are genuinely considering homicide now

the girl from the next table suddenly waves at him, all giggly and twirling her hair like she’s auditioning for a romcom

“hey, jungkook! you should totally sit with us!”

he glances at you, one brow raised. “should i?”

“why are you asking me?” you snap, already annoyed (but like, annoyed in a normal way, not jealous. definitely not jealous)

you miss the way his lips quirk in the corners

“nah, i think i’ll stay here,” he says, smirking. “you’re better company anyway”

...

why is your face heating up. why. stop it

1:00 PM

you’re walking to your next class when jungkook catches up, sipping his protein shake. the smell is somewhere between expired yogurt and pure evil

“so, lunch was fun,” he says casually, like he didn’t commit multiple crimes against your sanity earlier

“for who?” you mumble, giving him the nastiest bombastic side eye

“for both of us,” he replies, grinning. “don’t lie, y/n, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around”

“i’d miss the peace”

he laughs heartily and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to both strangle him and maybe... smile a little

1:12 PM

ur phone dings

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bring more chips tomorrow

or don’t. i’ll just steal them again

>:D

you stare at your screen for a second, debating whether to respond or block his number

you type back

you : (1:13PM) touch my chips again and i’ll report you to student conduct

his reply is instant.

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bet they’d let me off for good behavior 😛

2:47 pm.

group project time!

otherwise known as “watch y/n slowly lose her sanity” time

you're hunched over your notes, trying to come up with literally anything for this cursed assignment while everyone else is glued to their phones

“guys, any ideas?” you try, for the fifth time, because teamwork makes the dream work, right?

wrong. dead silence. you can practically hear your soul exiting your body

one guy mutters, "we could... idk, make a powerpoint?" and goes back to scrolling on instagram. helpful king

you’re about three seconds away from making a powerpoint on why you hate everyone here when the door swings open

in walks jungkook, twenty minutes late, balancing a protein shake in one hand and a clipboard in the other

like he’s about to announce his plan for world domination

he slides into the chair next to you, annoyingly fresh, as if he hasn’t just already benched three cows at the gym

“did i miss anything?” he asks, sipping his shake and eyeing you with those boba lookalike peepers like he’s the main character

why are his eyes so

cute

“yeah, we solved climate change and made contact with aliens. you're late.”

he smirks. smirks. “nice. guess i’ll tackle world hunger next.”

one of your lab mates looks up from her phone just to whisper, “he’s so hot..”

my ass.

“he’s useless”

you’re about to drop-kick the clipboard out of his hands when he lazily stretches and says, “so what’s the plan, y/n? you always have the best ideas”

and just like that, everyone turns to you like a pack of hyenas waiting for their next meal

you might actually murder him. right after you finish this stupid project.

>:-)

midnight.

you’re staring at your notes like they’re written in ancient alien hieroglyphics. focus? yup, that’s a myth

through the wall, you hear it. again.

jungkook’s obnoxious gym playlist thumping loud enough to summon the gods of protein.

how about you just summon the reaper to maybe reap your soul or his

you try to ignore it. you really do. but then the bass drops, and you swear the walls start vibrating

ARGH

that’s it. you’ve snapped. you slam your pen down and march out of your apartment like a woman on a mission

by the time you’re at his door, you’re already regretting this decision

but sleep-deprived y/n? she’s not known for her impulse control

you bang on the door like your life depends on it

>:-(

after a moment, jungkook opens up, looking like he just stepped out of a gym rat rom-com. damp hair, earbuds in, wearing a tank top that shows off way too much arm.

good lord, those tattoos..

“what’s up?” he asks casually, pulling out an earbud, as if you didn’t just nearly break his door down

whats up? what thE hELL DOES HE MEAN WHATS UP??

“it’s midnight!” you yell, waving a hand in the general direction of your apartment. “some of us need sleep to survive!”

he blinks at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. “but you’re awake now. want to do a quick set of push-ups?

you stare at him. you need to go to the store from where he bought the audacity. “push-ups?!”

“yeah,” he says, dead serious. “it’s a good way to burn off frustration. i do them all the time when i’m annoyed.”

“maybe i should start,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes. “because i’m annoyed right now.”

jungkook grins like the demon he is. “great! i’ll grab my mat.”

before you can stop him, he’s already turned back into his apartment. you briefly consider running, but it’s too late.

this is your life now.

five minutes later, you’re on the floor of his apartment, struggling to do one (1) push-up while he effortlessly does twenty in the same time it takes you to collapse in defeat

you feel like someone has bathed you in sweat

“this is humiliating,” you groan, face smushed into the mat

maybe you should’ve just slept

“nah, you’re doing great,” he says, way too cheerfully for someone torturing you. “just three more and you’ll hit... like, five total.”

you debate throwing a dumbbell at him but decide against it

jail isn’t worth it.

yet.

five minutes later you’re on the floor of his apartment, now two (2) push-ups deep and already regretting every decision you’ve made up to this point

you try again, your arms shaking with the effort, your brain screaming for mercy, when—

crack

“ow, ow, ow!” you yelp as your shoulder protests in a way that’s probably not supposed to happen

“that’s it, i’m dOne” you wince, face red from the sheer humiliation and pain

jungkook is standing there with a weirdly sympathetic expression that’s 90% amusement and 10% concern

he’s crouching beside you now, and you can't help but notice his Bambi eyes, all big and concerned, looking at your shoulder like he's actually worried for you

fml

this is so unfair

“u good?” he asks, voice unusually soft, and you can’t help but notice that barely there scar on his left cheek pulling slightly as he frowns and looks down at you

you glare at him, wincing a little more than you’d like to admit

does it look like ur good lol

“i think i pulled something” you mutter, still holding your shoulder, and mentally kicking yourself for agreeing to do this in the first place

you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to him

“mm,” he hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to your face, and then down to your shoulder with that gentle focus you didn’t think he was capable of

oUuu

“you should’ve asked for help, rookie” he says with that familiar cocky grin, but you catch the slight crinkle of concern in his brow, the mole beneath his lips almost beckoning you to stare at it

why is he so dumb but also so stupidly handsome?

and then his fingers are brushing against your shoulder again, carefully massaging the area in a way that’s too intimate for someone who’s just your annoying gym-obsessed neighbor

your heart rate spikes, and suddenly the injury doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore

“i’m fine, really,” you lie, trying to brush it off, but the way his Bambi eyes are looking at you—all soft and worried—has your head spinning

oh god

“i don’t think you are” he mutters, voice low, as he places a hand gently on your waist, pulling you just a little closer

god, stop being so touchy

the fact that he smells like musk and with some citrus-y notes underneath doesn’t help either

you feel your cheeks warming and lips parting

you feel yourself leaning in despite all logic telling you to stop, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes, slow and cautious, like he’s waiting for your permission

you really cannot help but feel your heart skip a beat at how beautiful he looks. no like for real, his hair is slightly overgrown, curled at the ends which fall gracefully over his face

and how soft his lips look

your brain is too far gone, and the next thing you know, you’re kissing him, hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer

his hair feels so silky soft

but his lips are even softer, but there’s a desperate edge to the kiss, and you don’t know if it's because of your injury or the fact that you’ve both been playing this weird tension game for far too long

you feel like u can finally die kissing him like this

his hand slides down your back, pressing you into him as if you might disappear, and you pull away, gasping for air

jungkook’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks at you with an unreadable expression

“shit, i… i didn’t think i was actually going to do that” he murmurs, his voice rough and nearly trembling if u hear closely

you stare at his lips again, the mole under them, the way he looks so dumb but also so dumb handsome

his mouth parts to say something stupid again but you shush him with your pointer on his lips

“shut up and kiss me again, you idiot” you mutter, pulling him back in without a second thought

oH WOW

Jungkook doesn’t need any more encouragement. this time, it’s all teeth and heat, a kiss that feels like it might burn the air around you both

and your shoulder? completely forgotten, left in the dust

the kiss doesn’t end in some grand, romantic crescendo like the movies promised

you both were shamelessly making out on his mat

you were perched on his lap and both of u were busy eating eachother’s mouths (it sounds gross but that’s what exactly u two were doing) when suddenly you give his hair a tug

and you hear a moan spilling from him

his hips buck up and you gasp, but it ends with him abruptly pulling away

he’s breathing like he just ran an hour on the treadmill. cheeks all flushed, lips shining with saliva and eyes wide

and your heart is hammering in your chest like it’s trying to escape

jungkook stares at you, lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and wild, and for once, the idiot looks just as lost as you feel

“i—uh—” you stammer, the words tangling in your throat because what the hell are you supposed to say after something like that

“y- yeah,” he cuts in, his voice rough and strained like he’s been punched in the gut, “same”

same? SAME?!

you glare at him, more out of panic than anger, because suddenly the room feels too small, and his scent—something annoyingly musky and Jungkook-ish—is now overwhelming you

“i, uh, should go” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and clutching your sore shoulder like a lifeline

jungkook doesn’t stop you, just sits there on the floor, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and an expression you can’t quite place

“cool” he mutters, dragging a hand through his messy hair as his jaw clenches

you don’t say anything else, don’t even look back as you practically bolt out of his apartment and into the safety of your own, slamming the door shut behind you

breathe, you tell yourself, leaning against the door, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss

you won’t lie, you really didn’t think it would take just a tug of hair to have Mr. Muscle moaning under you

and that kind of inflated ur ego too

>:-)

but now

as u stand behind your closed door

the warmth that had filled your chest moments ago is quickly replaced by a knot of confusion and panic

because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with Jungkook of all people

he’s my annoying gym-rat neighbor. this is… this is stupid

or is this really?..

no matter how much you try to convince yourself, your fingers keep brushing your lips absentmindedly, and your brain replays the moment over and over again like some kind of cruel joke

the next morning, you half expect him to blast his gym playlist at full volume to piss you off like he always does

but it’s quiet

too quiet

jungkook doesn’t blast music. doesn’t clank weights around. doesn’t do anything to make his presence known, and it’s driving you insane

you don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does

when you leave for class, you catch a glimpse of him locking his door, but he doesn’t even glance your way

just slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks off like you don’t exist

asshole

yea that hurt. a Lot. like a good amount, because you are sure that you felt that pain in the centre of your chest

but it’s not like you’re any better

you bury yourself in your textbooks, pretending the kiss never happened, even though your stupid brain refuses to let it go

your chest feels tight every time you hear his door open or his voice filter through the thin walls

and you hate how you feel disappointed every time he doesn’t acknowledge you

like you really are a stranger to him

:-(

it’s pathetic, but you can’t help it

the silence between the two of you stretches on like an invisible barrier

days pass, and the two of you become masters of the fine art of avoidance

there’s a strange art to it, like walking on eggshells in your own apartment

even if u two live in separate apartments, it just feels

weird

you are so used to him being so noisy and what not

but the silence is heavy, uncomfortable, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air

and it’s clEar neither of you know how to handle whatever the hell this is

you can’t figure out whether it’s a relief or suffocating

and every time you pass him in the hallway or see him through your apartment window, it’s like a silent conversation you’re not having

and that, somehow, feels worse than everything else

you want him to say something. anything.

but he doesn’t

and neither do you

and it makes you sick how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of pretending he doesn’t exist

even when he’s right there.

you go to class and he’s there

sitting three rows ahead of you like he’s deliberately trying to ignore you

and with that girl who cannot seem to have her hands off his bicep

and you’re… fine with it

totally fine

you are just hoping that your glare is enough to burn a hole in her skull

it’s just that you can’t stop staring at the back of his head

like maybe he’ll turn around and say something but nope

the entire lecture passes and he doesn’t even glance over

and you try not to overthink it but you’re pretty sure jungkook is doing the same thing to you

ignoring you

on purpose

you’re not imagining it, right?

lunch rolls around and you sit down at your usual spot

jungkook’s sitting at the table next to you with his back to you

he doesn’t even look up when you sit down

normally, he would’ve sent you a little half-smile or asked about your day or whatever. .

but now? nothing

it’s like you’re invisible

and that’s fine. you don’t care.

but deep down, you feel this weird lump in your chest

because you didn’t expect this coldness from him

even after everything that’s happened

and you’d even unconsciously brought his favourite flavour of chips he especially likes..

:(

then you see him texting on his phone

and you can’t help but peek over at his screen

jungkook is texting someone

and it’s not you

for some reason, that stings more than it should, but you swallow it down and pretend you didn’t notice

the silence between the two of you stretches out for days

it’s like the entire universe is pretending you never had that moment together

the night when everything took a wild ass turn

but jungkook’s acting like it never happened

and so are you.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s better

maybe he regrets kissing you.

maybe you even made him uncomfortable?..

and maybe this is easier

you can’t decide if it hurts or if you’re just overthinking it

either way, you stop checking his texts, stop wondering what he’s doing in his apartment

you try your best to pretend it’s okay

but deep down, you miss the stupid moments

the ones where he wasn’t so distant where it feels like something ended between you two before it could even start.

it feels like it’s been over a decade

:(

and you hate it.

but you push it aside

it’s just… the silence is way too loud now.

you’re sitting in your room, trying to convince yourself that letting go of jungkook is the right thing to do

and perhaps ur failing miserably lol

but it’s hard because every five minutes you catch yourself staring at something that reminds you of him

your notes? he doodled on them during lectures

your hoodie? yeah, it’s his. he lent it to you one day and never asked for it back

your heart? yeah. he kind of stole that too

you’re spiraling between sleep and insanity when there’s a knock on your door

no, wait—it’s not a knock

it’s banging — like someone’s fist is about to break through the wood

WHO CALLED THE COPS ON YOU ONG

you jump up, your heart pounding, and open the door

and there he is

jungkook—standing there, looking like he just ran a marathon and fought a bear at the same time

hair all messy, slight bags underneath his eyes and kinda disheveled outfit

for a split second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat

oh

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and suddenly having him standing in front of you is making your heart race like crazy

“i can’t—” he stops, breathless, hands on his knees like he’s about to collapse

you’re standing there, eyes wide, totally taken aback by the sight of him, feeling a mix of relief and something else you can’t quite place

yet

“i can’t take it anymore,” he says, looking up at you with that ridiculous face of his

you grab that meaty bicep of him, ushering him to stand up

“what are you talking about?” you ask, completely confused

“you. i’m talking about you,” he says, taking a step closer

hUH

the air around you feels like it’s being sucked out of the room

your head is spinning because after all this time, here he is, right in front of you

“i like you. i’ve always liked you. and i didn’t know how to tell you, so i…”

“i got all this gym equipment just to bother you. i’d turn the music up way too loud, and i thought that’d make you notice me. i sat next to you at lunch, even in lectures, doing everything to annoy you because i didn’t know how else to approach you, i really thought—”

“jungkook.”

you blink, processing everything in a blur, your heart still hammering in your chest

but he doesn’t quite listen to you. “i knew you liked my sketches we had during cardio lectures, so i always made sure to draw—”

“juNGKOOK!”

you cut him off, smacking his idiotic shoulders “you’re an idiot.”

jungkook stops, eyes widening a little, but there’s this look of relief on his face

like a huge weight has just been lifted off him

almost like when u get to pee after holding it in for hours

“i know,” he says softly, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he looks standing there

he somehow looks

small.

“then why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” you ask, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement

jungkook smiles sheepishly, his pearly whites flashing. “i guess i thought this would be easier.”

easier.

only if he knew that each moment without him felt like the earth opening up and swallowing you

AND!!! HIS FAVOURITE ONION VINEGAR FLAVORED CHIPS!! which used to be your absolutely hated flavour but somehow you’ve caught a liking to them recently

how ironic

the room feels heavy with tension as you both stand there, unsure of what to say next, but his gaze is so intense, it makes your heart skip

“say something,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “please.”

you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, still flustered, but there’s something about his earnestness that makes everything else fade into the background

and the way his caramel brown eyes nearly sparkle underneath your dimly lit apartment lights

you shake your head with a smile.

“you’re an idiot.”

but you're smiling like a total fool because what else are you supposed to do when the guy you’ve been in love with just confessed to you?

jungkook’s face softens, and then he smiles too

a smile which looks so adorable you feel your heart will burst

and it’s over for you

“so, uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, looking bashful. “does that mean you like me too?”

you roll your eyes, your heart racing all over again, and grab the front of his shirt to pull him inside

“kiss me already”

the door slams shut behind you.

and the rest

as they say, is history

:-)

a/n : i love them bad :’(

mlist | let me know what you think anonymously :))

[strawbeerossi]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You have an issue with staring at your professors hands.

Content/Warnings: Course language, Reader has some perverted thoughts, hand kink, finger sucking, sexual tension, fade to black sex.

Word Count: 0.9K

Kinktober Day Sixteen: Quirofilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer Reid had sexy hands. That was a given. The prominent veins in his hands made you drool, wanting nothing more than to suck on his fingers or have that same hand wrapped tight around your throat. 

It was easy to discreetly stare, mainly telling your professor you tended to zone out quite a lot. It wasn;t exactly a lie, yet you didn’t describe the fantasies of having him shove two fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet while brutally assaulting your sex in his office after class. The vivid thoughts of feeling those large hands gripping your hips or bringing it to cover your mouth had you in a spiral.

You didn’t ever expect to feel these feelings towards a man who was old enough to be your father, however you weren’t going to complain. He was an attractive man and he knew that, carrying himself with a form of confidence that didn’t make him arrogant but made him self aware as to why so many people audited his class over the thousands of others that were probably more aligned with their interests.

You liked how patient he was, even despite his time in prison. He always had a smile on his face when discussing lesson plans, talking with his hands and it was truly the cutest thing you’d seen. He always enjoyed when he was rambling during his lectures, dumping every ounce of information on the subject with everyone else. 

Today was no different, Dr. Reid going into the intricacies of triggers in budding unsubs as well as what could be a trigger and what wouldn’t be. It was admittedly a boring lesson but thankfully, he was excited about the topic to ramble for the full hour of the lecture.

You’d been ‘zoning out’ the whole lesson, practically drooling over the sight of his hands as he did many gestures for his talking points. You could only imagine the trigger it would take to have those hands gripping your body, pulling you flush against him in the front of the empty classroom while he wandered your body with care, wanting to feel every dip and curve.

You were staying after class today, mainly to discuss a research paper that he’d given at the beginning of the week. As soon as the class was being wrapped up and you got the opportunity to catch your sexy professor alone, you jumped to it. “Dr. Reid,” 

Most of the girls in the class looked at you with annoyance, having similar ideas to you in order to have a fraction of the man’s attention.

“I was wondering if I could discuss my paper with you, I’m struggling to differentiate between triggers and stressors.” You didn’t really have trouble with it but he didn’t have to know that. With his million dollar smile, Spencer was gesturing for the page in your hand, which was essentially just a layout. “I can help you with that, you know, I figured you would have no trouble with the assignment. You know you are one of my best students.” He spoke as he was letting his eyes glance over the handwritten notes you’d had.

His eyebrow raised, looking back up at you. “You’re confused? These notes are perfect and you have a clear layout for your paper. Why would you pretend like you had no idea what you were doing?” 

Fuck. You handed him the wrong paper, it was supposed to be the one filled with mixed information.

“O-oh, I..” You paused while looking over in his direction while your cheeks were heating up from embarrassment. Spencer seemed to catch on though, chuckling. “You know you could’ve just asked to speak to me. I would’ve accepted it. Now, why are you really here?” 

“I, uh, well I wanted to just talk to you about the assignment.” You let your shoulders sink.

“You are a horrible liar. Let’s not forget that I am a profiler. Seriously, is everything okay?” The paper in his hand was being handed back to you, a soft squeak leaving your lips as his hand brushed against yours. “It’s nothing! I should go!” You panicked, ready to run out of the lecture hall before Spencer was grounding you by wrapping his hand around your wrist. “I notice the way you stare at me. Was this just an excuse to talk to me?” Instead of seeming uncomfortable, he looked intrigued. “Come here. Please.” He spoke while letting go of you.

Now you could run, however his voice was luring you closer, now standing on the other side of his desk. Your gaze trailed to his hands briefly, making your professor lift his hands up, almost as if he was giving you a better look at the large, veiny hands. “Quirofilia, or the attraction to hands, is actually fairly common in terms of attraction.” He caught you. Fuck.

“I-is it?” You asked, the male nodding as he offered a smile and brought his hand up to cup your cheek. “Very. Some people like being scratched, others like being caressed, sucking fingers is also another very popular method.” He listed off his facts, his thumb running alongside your jaw. This wasn’t real, was it? No, it couldn’t be. It sure as hell felt real, especially when the pad of his thumb was swiping over your lower lip.

You didn’t see a point in denying such an open invitation, your lips closing around his thumb once you’d taken it into your mouth. “You’re a finger sucker.” Spencer concluded, chuckling as your cheeks hollowed as you sucked and swirled your tongue around his thumb. “And a very eager one at that. Come here.” He murmured, now pushing the things on his desk out of his way, gesturing for you to perch your body on the desk as he was moving to run his hands over your clothed thighs.

“Let’s explore this kink together, shall we?”

[gtgbabie0]

A thought just came to me, and it’s fluff (kinda angsty if you squint but overall just protective leon) when f!reader (his S/O) comes home from work and subtly complains about some guy (co-worker) being “strange” and flirting with her and stuff and eventually she just comes home one day and rants about how it’s making her really uncomfy (and then ofc my bbg Leon comforts her and now has a murder plan)

I love this idea because I saw in one of your drabbles the mention of Leon not even thinking about sharing reader, and now I’m wondering what he would think of when even reader doesn’t like the persons advances and is uncomfy

If this is too triggering or uncomfortable for you, pls ignore!! I love ur writing ❤️❤️

-Leon Kennedy x reader

Ahhh thank you for requesting, I love protective Leon sm!! I hope you enjoy my lovelies!

CW- harassment

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Office jobs are already god awful, the last thing you need is some creepy, sleaze-ball who can’t take a hint for the life of him and by just your luck that’s exactly who you have to work with. The new intern, Harry, had been nothing but inappropriate with his constant jokes about the women he’s slept with, or his flirtatious manner that was horribly accompanied by his wandering hands.

It was starting to make you feel way too uncomfortable so much in fact you left ten minutes early just to avoid him in the parking lot. You had, along with several other women, already spoken with your bosses who in turn told you they’d ‘Keep an eye on him’ which was not helpful, at all, in fact, his actions only worsened through the week.

So when you finally get home you let out a heavy sigh, feeling the stress melt away as Leon calls your name lovingly from the kitchen. “Hey angel, you’re back early” he says walking over to you with a soft smile.

Leon always looks so warm and inviting but right now when he’s wearing his old collage jumper with a pair of joggers, well it sparks something in you and you just can’t help it as you practically fling yourself at him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you tug him into a hug.

He smiles when you breathe in deeply because, god, did he smell like heaven, “Yeah, I missed you- so much” you mumble against his shoulder, a sigh falling from your lips as his hands soothe against the small of your back, pulling your blouse out from where’s its tucked into your pencil skirt, so he can slip his hands underneath the fabric, his warm hands splaying across your back.

Leon catches on fairly quickly that there’s something wrong, he can tell by your tone, and when he pulls away slightly to look at you he doesn’t miss the strained smile you flash him. “Missed you too baby” he presses a kiss to your hairline, “Tell me what happened?” there’s a certain softness to his tone that melts you, completely opening the floodgates.

“Well y’know that new intern?” You ask as you both walk into the kitchen, the setting sun dusting the room with an orangey light as it reflects against the dark wooden cupboards, it was a homely feeling.

The softness of the light against Leon’s face made him look so handsome, despite the frown that confronts his face as he runs a hand down his stubbled cheek.

He nods with a stiff “Yeah” as he bites the inside of his cheek. Of course, Leon knew him, the creep wouldn’t leave you alone, the thought of him making you even the slightest bit uncomfortable made Leon seethe with anger.

“Well telling my boss hasn’t done shit- I swear he’s only gotten worse” you sigh picking at your cuticles, an action Leon is quick to stop as he holds your hands in his.

“Gotten worse how sweetheart?” He asks, tilting his head as he tries to meet your gaze. There’s a dreadful pit that grows in his stomach as he waits for your response with a certain fear.

“He just makes everyone feel so uncomfortable, I mean it’s bad Leon- even some of the other guys have called him out, he just doesn’t listen,” you tell him, noticing how the grasp he has on your hands tightens slightly.

You take a deep breath although it comes out a lot more shaky than you would like, “I have to share the desk next to his, and he keeps flirting with me and trying to touch my shoulders- I swear I’m gonna staple his hands together” you giggle trying to make light of the situation because if you don’t laugh about it you might end up crying.

The sentence tips Leon off the edge and what he really wants to do is much more than staple his hands together, but he pushes that to the side when he catches onto the tears that glaze over your eyes.

“You’re not going in tomorrow- I’ll call your boss” he says leaving no room for argument, a sudden protectiveness caging around his heart. His arms encircle your shoulders as he holds you against him with a gentle sway.

However, you know you can’t avoid it altogether, “Leon I can’t not go to work,” you tell him, pulling back slightly to look at him, anger still flickering through his eyes.

“Then I’ll drop off and pick you up” he huffs pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll put on my mean boyfriend face” he whispers, frowning very over dramatically as he brushes his nose against yours.

He stops after he gets a giggle from you, satisfied at the joy that overtakes your face although it doesn’t last for long as he pulls back, watching the happiness dissipate from your face. It hurts him to see you like this, his chest tightens and it only fuels his anger towards this sleaze.

“Hey, I’m serious” his tone is so soft despite the growing anger, “I’ll call your boss, tell him you’re not going in until that creep gets fired” he presses a kiss to your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You look up at him with a soft smile, “I love you” you whisper, leaning into his hand as he cups your jaw, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.

“I love you too sweetheart” he says, bringing you into a warm almost protective hug, kissing the top of your head as his hands soothe against your back in a comforting manner, “Let’s go get some food, yeah?” He says as you nod against his chest, feeling a whole lot safer.

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[idyllic-affections]

i’m thinking about kaveh first dropping off his kid in ghandarva ville. he did a good job explaining to them that he’ll be back before they know it and that he’ll alway be there for them. before he leaves he feels little hands clutching onto his leg as they just whisper “you promise you’re gonna come back? you won’t leave me, right? you promise you won’t leave me?”

i'll be back.

summary. kaveh finds the strength to leave his child in gandharva ville.

trigger & content warnings. fear of abandonment, references to kaveh's backstory.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort, soft angst. adoptive dad!kaveh & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. wow you just woke up today and chose gentle violence huh anon /LH i love soft angst. hard angst? yeah, it definitely hurts, but soft angst like this? idk. it hits different sometimes!!!

kaveh did not want to resort to this. he didn't.

the architect truly, sincerely had tried his very best to think of any alternate solutions—maybe he could convince alhaitham to give [name] a chance? no, caring for a child he impulsively decided to pick up off the streets isn't his roommate's responsibility and it really never would be unless the scribe himself decided to take it on, but some people have spontaneous changes of heart! why would alhaitham be any different?

(unfortunately, said man was not going to budge anytime soon. a child would disrupt the comfortable life he had put so much effort into building. kaveh had no choice but to accept that fact. well, really, he knew from the beginning! he was just hoping alhaitham might change.)

in the end, he managed to come up with nothing. he could not think of a single good or attainable option that would allow him to keep them. as much as he hated to admit it, only alhaitham's solution was a viable and reasonable one.

so, here he is, standing in front of tighnari's home in gandharva ville motionlessly with his child held securely in his arms. there were no words in any language that kaveh knew of that could describe what he was feeling. he wordlessly rubs soothing circles on their back.

the silence is impossibly loud.

tighnari does not rush him. he does not so much as even think of complaining. he simply waits quietly with collei at his side, the girl bouncing on her heels slightly in a nervous fidget. she wants to be a good caretaker to [name]; tighnari knows the prospect alone of having to care for them is making her nervous.

kaveh's slightly wavering voice finally breaks the silence:

"you know why i have to leave you here, right?"

they nod quietly, little hands clenched in fists raising up to rub at their watery eyes with their palms—they hope it looks like they're tired and not like they're about to cry, which they are. they hope he doesn't know they're about to cry. they hope he just thinks they're tired from the long journey. they hope he doesn't know the truth.

kaveh knows, of course.

he doesn't say anything about it, though, and only tries to swallow back his own emotions. he tries his best to repress the nauseous feeling stirring in his gut. he tries his best to repress the crawling of his skin. he tries his best to repress the thoughts that this is so impossibly wrong, so impossibly cruel of him.

he hasn't known this child for long, but...

he felt like he was abandoning them.

he felt like he was abandoning his flesh and blood.

absentmindedly, kaveh wondered if this was how his mother felt when she left to fontaine. he hopes not. this feeling is vile. he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy.

"and you also know that i'm going to come back all the time to see you, right? and i'm always going to be here if you need me?"

their voice cracks slightly. "yeah."

it's not at all that kaveh doesn't trust tighnari and collei; he does, and he knows they'll take good care of [name], but... still. he wants to be the one taking care of them. he wants to keep them.

he can't.

kaveh then kneels down, and their heart sinks in to the pit of their stomach, despite the fact that they already knew this was inevitably going to happen. just as they dreaded, he sets them down onto their own two feet.

they're reluctant to release their tiny grip from his shirt, but they do so regardless of their hesitance. a slight whimper rises in their throat when kaveh's warmth is gone from them.

kaveh hasn't ever really had to comfort children before.

he's... not sure what to do from here, quite frankly, so he does the first thing that comes to mind.

he leans forward, pressing the smallest, most hesitant of kisses to the crown of their head.

then, he stands up.

he doesn't get very far before one of their little hands is clutching his pant leg, and he inhales sharply, turning back to face them. "[name]..."

kaveh cuts himself off.

their eyes are wide, glittering with the sheen of unshed tears, and their bottom lip is split and cracked—they've either been picking at it or biting it, kaveh notes. how did he not notice before?

in their moment of sadness and stress, their accent peeks through a bit more heavily. it's in a shaky voice on the brink of breaking that they ask, "you promise you're gonna come back, right? you won't leave me, will you?"

...

kaveh earnestly believes he might cry about this when he gets home. oh well. alhaitham will simply have to deal with it.

for now, though, he doesn't cry. he can't.

the architect kneels back down to their height, wiping away the single tear that slid down their cheek with his calloused fingertips. "of course."

"you— you're not gonna leave me, right? you're not leaving me?"

"no. never. i promise, okay?" he whispers. "i'm here, okay? i'm always here if you need me. you just need to tell tighnari. he'll tell me you asked for me and i'll come back here. anytime."

kaveh briefly wonders if he'll regret making such a promise—his clients may suffer if they ask for him at a bad time—but then again...

he can't really say he ever will, not with the way they look at him with such vulnerable trust.

he can't regret it when they're putting their damaged trust into his hands.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again. 

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Molasses

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, Idk if i'd call this fluff lol, bad communication gets resolved at the end WARNING: trigger warning for CRINGE

“Is it easy for you to keep up with him?”

Your friend is interrogating you about Kaiser again. After a while, the topic of your relationship lost novelty, making way for newer drama, but it’s difficult for them to disregard that you’re dating a football player. Like, a real one, not just some dude who goes to play every other Sunday with his buddies.

You swirl your straw around your drink, looking at it like there’s slop in the glass instead of what you ordered. You wouldn’t say you keep up with Kaiser, so you shrug. “Give him a ball to kick around and he’ll be content.”

They raise an eyebrow, picking up on your sulking. Not like you’re being subtle about it. “So, I take it you’re not super stoked about things right now?”

Well, that’s the thing. You have nothing to do with what makes him happy. You don’t even call him by his first name, which is odd for obvious reasons, but also because it gives off the impression you’re one of the lackeys on his team, even though you don’t play. Or worse, a stalker fan who follows him around a lot.

Of course, you know what he’s like. That he’s a jerk who isn’t occupied with much besides himself, whose personality is cold and distant, and despite being a bit of a romantic, you’d prefer to think you didn’t have any unrealistic expectations. Maybe you overestimated your ability to tolerate how unavailable he is. And still — still! — is it such a crime to expect your boyfriend to display some vulnerability after several months of dating?

He doesn’t show you much of himself besides his persona, but you find it unnecessary, this covering up and playing His Majesty and forcing distance between you two with his paper thin smiles and showy kisses after games. You’re not a journalist trying to write an exposé on him (‘Michael Kaiser Is a Big Bitch’). You just… You just like him is all, and have a desire for a more profound closeness.

Does he share the same sentiments of affection towards you? It’s kind of a ridiculous question to ask yourself, and he’s way too pompous to allow anyone he finds uninteresting in his presence, but are you on his mind as often as he is on yours? Does he wonder about you the same way? You don’t believe you’re even half as elusive as he is, so it doesn’t seem plausible.

On the other hand, are you too overbearing? Should you pull back and relax?

You’ve been meaning to be mature and speak up about your concerns, but have been procrastinating on the conversation. For now, you wallow in your doubts while your friend suggests you break up with him and points out how big his forehead is, and how dumping a star is a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity.’

___

Kaiser is… off balance.

Not really. He’s standing upright and his posture is perfect and he’s not dizzy, but right now, the world is wrong and he can only hope the way he is clawing at his phone doesn’t betray how upset he is.

“Ness,” he says in his ‘I am about to complain’ tone. It is also only slightly different from his usual voice.

“Yes?”

“Before I continue, I just want you to know that I’m being very brave and nonchalant about this.”

Ness smiles, the expression seeming guileless as usual. “Of course,” he says eventually.

Kaiser all but shoves the screen in his face, since putting all of your offenses into words is beyond him, though it soon occurs to him Ness can’t read from this proximity and ceases the assault he’s committing on his eyes. Ness scans over your sparse chat, looks up at Kaiser again, and raises his eyebrows.

“They can’t make it to practice?” He states it in the form of a question when it appears that Kaiser is unwilling to talk, even though he’s the one who started the conversation.

“Congratulations, you can read. How many times has this happened?”

“I don’t know,” Ness says, despite knowing this is the fifth since he counted every time you didn’t show up the last two weeks. “Are they not feeling well?”

You shot him down the last two times he asked you to go out on a date. And you haven’t called before bed in a while. And you didn’t even add a kissy emoji when you told him good luck (not like he cares about your stupid emojis, but you didn’t). And whenever you see him lately, you act closed off.

“No, they’re totally avoiding me,” he says, after going through a mental flashback of all of your betrayals as if he was in a war instead of on iMessage. “Do you think I’m ugly? Or maybe boring?”

“Never.”

“Then what should I do?”

Did he have a plan for if he were unattractive? Get plastic surgery just to keep dating you or something? “You should try asking.”

“Maybe our relationship is losing its spark,” Kaiser says, completely disregarding Ness’s input. Ness continues smiling. It is unnerving, but an idea comes to Kaiser’s mind, and he’s too busy marveling at his genius to notice. “It’s an easy fix. I just need to romance [Y/n] again.”

Ness is still smiling.

“Anyway,” Kaiser continues despite the lack of answer, “you know they love those comics or whatever. It can be like a challenge. Recreate the atmosphere, sweep them off their feet. I can make my sweetie’s dreams come true. Because I’m not replaceable, and only I can do that for them. Right?”

For a brief moment, Ness considers telling him this is not the way and that he’s jumping through so many hoops, he’s going to trip and fall, but decides against it. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what he’s saying. He doubts anyone else would come to this conclusion, for one, let alone devise a plan around it. If irreplaceable is synonymous with unique by some stretch of the imagination, then sure.

“Of course,” he says again. His eyes are big and innocent. Kaiser gets the distinct impression that Ness is judging him right now.

___

It’s already dark outside and you’re still sitting at your desk, doing mundane things on your computer, once again distracted from an assignment you’ve been meaning to do for a while. Something smacks against the window, startling you, but when you pull the curtains, you don’t see anything near the sill. You assume you imagined the noise, but another pebble hits the window, and this time you witness it as it happens.

The thought of some asshole throwing rocks at your windows irritates you, so you stand up to investigate, pressing your forehead against the glass.

Kaiser waves at you from below, looking way too cheery. You don’t know what he’s doing here, but you turn to go and let him in through the intercom — did he ring? you don’t remember him doing so — until you notice him gesturing at you to open the windows. Confused, you comply, peeking your head out, the cold breeze blowing against your cheeks and invading your already poorly insulated apartment.

“You look lovely today,” he yells out. Not a strong start, but he can redeem himself. Maybe.

“Thanks? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yes.” You lean away from the window again, but he stops you with another bizarre request. “No, wait. Later.”

This perplexes you even more, but you humor him with a weary expression anyway, resting your face against your palm.

… You interrupt his unnecessarily loud reading of some obscure love poem with a flail of your hands and a, “Cut it out and just come up!”

God, you hope none of your neighbors heard. To spare you both of this embarrassment, you don’t give him a chance to continue and instead close the windows, hurrying to let him in and unlock your door.

What’s with him, anyway? You feel a pinprick of anxiety at what’s about to come after such a strange… greeting from him, but try your best to seem stoic while you wait for Kaiser to climb up the stairs.

When he comes into view, you offer him what you consider a cool nod (which you may or may not have practiced in the mirror), and he continues to stand there at the doorway as if waiting for something. You move aside to give him space. Kaiser blinks once, figures this isn’t going his way, then follows your lead.

“Please don’t make me ask ‘where’s my hug at?’” he says, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. “That’s not like me at all.”

In your struggle to think of a neutral response, all you come up with is, “No one’s making you do anything,” which sounds more disagreeable than what you’re going for.

His lips settle into a thin line, the action calculating, as if he’s contemplating his next move. Both of you are being tactical. It’s weird considering this is supposed to be a sweet surprise visit from your boyfriend, not a battle of psychological warfare, but you don’t even know what’s going on anymore.

Then he takes a step closer until he’s in front of you, invading your personal space with his face leaning in so close to yours, resting his palm against the wall, almost pinning you to the wall but not quite. “Why not?”

“Do you need something? I kind of wasn’t expecting you, so,” you say irrelevantly. In your head, you’re still trying to make sense of this, not understanding where these corny gestures are coming from all of a sudden.

“No, I just wanted to see you. Is that a crime?” he says, backing away, folding his hands behind his back. There’s an artificial grin on his face. “Was this enjoyable for you?”

“Well, um, it was alright.”

“Did you like my recitation?”

“No…”

He read your stupid favorite series and the idiot love interest did both of those things. Does he have something that Kaiser doesn’t? And should he throw an irrational and jealous tantrum about it, shoujo style, or should he move onto the amnesia subplot?

This is awkward. You can’t think of an inoffensive topic to bring up. Perhaps deliberately withdrawing yourself from him has impaired your conversational skills? Either way, his unpredictable actions from earlier are throwing you off your game.

Kaiser follows you when you lead him to the couch, sitting in a manner you think is far too dignified considering he was serenading you from under your balcony not too long ago — prim and proper, with his ankle crossed over his knee and his hands intertwined together like he’s at a fancy meeting, offering opinions about a business deal.

You fumble for the remote with sweaty fingers, turning on the TV, hoping for a distraction. You can’t focus because you can feel Kaiser’s gaze on you, putting you on edge, burning into your side profile. He’s not even paying attention to whatever random show you started.

You turn towards him, conveying your incredulity with a raise of your eyebrows because you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to ask. ‘Why are you looking at me?’ doesn’t communicate what you want to say to the fullest extent.

“Oh, you caught me staring longingly at you. How embarrassing,” Kaiser says with the same sly smile, not sounding the slightest bit ashamed.

“Are you okay?”

“No. Have we met before?”

You scrunch your face in evident disbelief and think, OBVIOUSLY?

It makes Kaiser contemplate whether the amnesiac subplot is worth continuing.

“Seriously, you’re acting weird,” you say after gathering your wits.

“‘Weird,’” he repeats in fake amusement and looks away, switching from… whatever he’s been doing to a strange defensiveness, then adjusts the collar of his shirt. “I think the definition of that word is subjective.”

“I mean, sure.”

“And anyway, you were the one who was acting strange first.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Instead of acting like I don’t exist anymore, you should’ve just said you want to separate.”

God, Kaiser is so dramatic. Saying you were ‘acting like he doesn’t exist’ just because your world doesn’t revolve around him. You’re struggling to keep up with these mood swings. “But I don’t want to break up?”

“Oh,” he says before his lips turn up again. “That’s good,” he settles on, figuring it makes him come across as calm and collected enough.

“Honestly, I don’t know what you were doing, but… if you were worried about something, maybe you should’ve just told me?”

“You’re so cute when you’re being hypocritical.”

You cross your arms and frown, offended.

“I mean,” Kaiser elaborates, “you haven’t told me why you’re avoiding me either. And what was I doing? I wanted to find a new way to woo you again, but since you didn’t notice, it obviously didn’t work. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“Well, it’s hard to put it into words,” you say, picking at a hangnail on your finger to distract yourself. “I don’t want you to woo me or anything. A lot of the things you do are performative, just for show. Even all this wasn’t sincere… So I don’t wanna be in a situation where I’m opening up to you when you’re not doing the same.”

He seems taken aback by this. “Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“Not exactly. More like the depth of them, if that makes sense?”

“When I thought I was losing you, I started acting irrational,” he says in a disdainful tone, vaguely gesturing at nothing in particular to imply this entire ordeal. “I hate to admit it, but it scared me how much it was affecting me.” Kaiser appears to regret admitting this almost immediately, though, because he tries to divert your attention by asking, “Is this the appealing kind of vulnerable? Or the pathetic one? I could repeat myself while flipping my hair from my best angle if it’d help.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you say. “I should’ve just been upfront instead of playing games. You were right, that’s pretty hypocritical of me.”

“Yes, you should be sorry, making me act like a clown.” You narrow your eyes at him in annoyance. “But I guess I was confusing you, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Hold on,” you say, when the tropes finally click into your head (though you have to admit, as much as you love the romance genre, these things do come across as really bizarre in real life). “I don’t know if you were reading with your ass or what, but all these things are supposed to happen before the characters get together. It was way too late for any of this!”

“Haha. Is that so?” Kaiser asks, pretending he’s not dying of even more mortification on the inside. Then he pulls out his phone. “That reminds me, I organized a duel for your hand against Ness at the city center for later. I guess I should cancel it.”

“What-”

“Don’t worry, we choreographed it to be quick and painless, with a decisive win in my favor,” he says, as if any of what he mentioned is what you were questioning.

“Choreographed- Never mind, actually, I don’t wanna know. Why would Ness even agree?”

“Because I asked him to do it…?”

[onceuponastory]

heartbeats - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Like most people in the hospital she works in, Y/N is head over heels in love with the gorgeous paramedic Bucky Barnes. Yet she has come to the conclusion that their small chats they have whenever he drops off a patient is the closest thing they have to a relationship. That is, however, until an accident on a night out brings them closer together. Pairing: Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, needles, pain meds/drugs, injuries (nothing too graphic) and bruising. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This is my first entry for the @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse Challenge! One of my squares was Nurse, so here we are! Obligatory I am not a doctor (clearly), so my medical knowledge may not be the most accurate. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. 

“Hey. What have we got?” Y/N asks, waiting to greet the incoming ambulance.

“You know, I’d say I admire your tenacity to provide the best care to patients as soon as they arrive… but I know the real reason you got down here so quickly.” Her coworker smirks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here to help treat the patient, which I swore an oath to do.” Y/N lies, ignoring the way her cheeks are heating up with embarrassment.

“Oh suuure, you’re totally here for honest reasons. Definitely not just to see if the hot paramedic is coming. You’re really not subtle, Y/N.”

“Who's to say that’s not why you’re here, too?” Y/N replies. But her coworker is right. Y/N loves her job as a doctor, and getting to help so many people from all different walks of life. Especially after the amount of studying it took to get here. Yet, she’d be lying if she said that seeing the paramedic Bucky Barnes isn’t a big part of her job happiness. Bucky, the aforementioned hot paramedic, is charming, caring and makes everyone in the hospital swoon with just a smile in their direction. If Bucky treated all the people who have heart palpitations and need oxygen when he shows up, he’d be a billionaire. 

As one of the lead emergency doctors in the hospital, Y/N comes into contact with Bucky a lot during her shifts. And each time, his dazzling ocean blue eyes and winning smile send her heart into a flutter and make her legs go weak. Like everyone else in the hospital, Y/N is head over heels in love with the charming paramedic. Every time she sees him, she wants to get over her nerves and finally ask him out, or just to get to know him better. While, of course, secretly hoping that he feels the same way as she does. And yet, she just can't bring herself to tell him the truth. She and Bucky have a great working relationship despite only seeing each other during a patient handover, and despite how much she wants to get closer to him, she also doesn’t want to ruin what they have, and make either of their jobs awkward.

And besides, he has the pick of almost everyone in this entire hospital, so he definitely wouldn’t go for her.

But then, the sound of sirens cuts through the air, interrupting Y/N’s thoughts. It’s time to go to work, and not think about her incredibly attractive coworker. Yet, when the ambulance door opens, a familiar face steps out.

“Afternoon ladies.” Bucky grins. Y/N swears he even throws a wink in there. Immediately, her heart starts beating even faster. Sometimes, Y/N wonders if Bucky does actually know the effect he has on people, how he makes them all swoon and go weak with just a smile. If he does know, Y/N thinks he relishes in it.

“Hey. What have we got?”

“This is Mike. He’s a 23-year-old male who had a fall at work, and is now complaining of pain in his left side.” As Bucky explains the man’s condition, Y/N’s mind goes back to her feelings for him. She’d love to tell him the truth about how she feels more than anything, but the only time they see each other is when they’re with a patient, which doesn’t exactly lend itself to a lot of conversations, let alone heart to heart talks about your feelings. And her time spent with Bucky is always quick before he has to go be a hero again. She can’t just dump all her feelings for him when he’s about to leave. “Can I leave him in your very capable hands, Y/N?” Bucky asks, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Of course.” As Bucky departs, Y/N watches him go, registering a strange twinge in her heart. One she normally feels whenever Bucky is around. God, this man is definitely going to break her heart one day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few weeks later,

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay? Your ankle looks really bad.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N lies. “I’m a doctor, remember?” A doctor with a very twisted ankle that hurts to even move. Groaning, Y/N leans back, trying to avoid hurting herself even more. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. It was a celebration of finally finishing four night shifts in a row and having some time off to recharge. But, after one drink too many and a pair of heels that are just too high to walk in comfortably, here she is. Sitting on the side of the road with a throbbing ankle and her pride and happiness shattered.

“Y/N, I really think we should call you an ambulance. You need to be checked out.”

“I’m a doctor, I can do it. I’m okay.” Y/N snaps. Gritting her teeth, she tries to push herself up, but cannot get to her feet without yelling out in pain.

“Absolutely not. You need to go to the hospital, and none of us are sober enough to drive you.” One of her friends replies, taking out her phone and calling for help, ignoring Y/N’s complaints. As she sits back down, trying to manoeuvre her ankle into a more comfortable position, Y/N knows her friends are right. She needs help, which she isn’t able to provide for herself. Maybe for once, after all her time spent taking care of others… it’s her turn to be taken care of. Soon enough, albeit longer than Y/N likes, an ambulance pulls up.

“Thank god.” She murmurs. However, when the paramedic steps out, illuminated by the streetlight, Y/N immediately regrets her words. “Oh, fuck.”

Bucky Barnes is standing right in front of her.

“Hey everyone, where’s the- Y/N?!” he gasps. She can’t fully explain the emotion on his face as he looks at her. In fact, it looks like a mix of emotions: surprise, concern and pity all rolled into one. Heat rises through Y/N’s body, settling on her cheeks. Bucky is the last person she wants to see her like this, sitting in the middle of the street on a Saturday night, in pain and crying, no doubt with her makeup smeared everywhere. At that moment, all she wants is for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Bucky kneels beside her, his face mere inches from her. “Not going to lie, you’re not who I expected to see tonight. But it’s a welcome surprise.” He smiles, and Y/N registers a familiar fluttering sensation in her stomach. “So, how are you feeling? Your friend said you broke your ankle, but what’s your personal diagnosis, doc?” He chuckles, and Y/N’s blush deepens. Bucky’s never called her doc before… and she’s just realised that she loves it.

“I think it’s just a sprain. Nothing worth worrying about.” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.

“Well, you say that… but I still wanna check you over in the ambulance.” Y/N suppresses a groan. Of course he does. God, why does he have to be so thorough?! Why can’t, just this once, he- “Besides, if I missed something, I’d never forgive myself, especially if something terrible happened to you.” He admits, his words suddenly leaving her speechless and her heart racing. “Can’t have the best doctor in the area out of action, now can we?”

“Okay, now I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“Nope. It’s true.” Bucky shrugs, and Y/N gasps.

“I-I-thank you.” She stammers out a reply, still in shock. She’s not used to this, to seeing Bucky outside of her job, and especially not as a patient. Or to be complimented so much by him. And what a way to start. But at least she’s finally going to know what being cared for by Bucky Barnes feels like.

“Can you walk?” Bucky asks, gently helping her up. When she yelps in pain after putting pressure on her injured foot, Bucky whispers: “It’s alright. Just lean on me, okay? Your carriage awaits.” He chuckles. Despite how weird this situation is, it feels nice to be so close to Bucky, and to be cracking jokes with him like they’re actually friends, and not just coworkers. Y/N just wishes it could be like this all the time. Aside from the twisted ankle, of course. 

Slowly, Bucky leads her inside the ambulance, and onto the bed inside. Y/N watches him as he grabs all the equipment he needs. Her brain feels like it’s going a million miles a minute as Bucky’s words replay in her mind. “I’d never forgive myself.” Does he care about her? Is there a chance he feels the same way about her? 

But then, her mind brings her crashing back down to reality. Of course he cares about her. It’s his fucking job. And right now, she’s just like any other patient. One that’s hopelessly in love with her paramedic and wants him to feel even a smidge of the love she feels for him. Although maybe, just this once, she can pretend that it’s just for her. Slowly, Y/N’s eyes wander lower. God, how does his ass look so good in that uniform?

“I bet this is a unique experience for you, huh? Being the one getting diagnosed?” Bucky laughs, turning back to her. “Especially by me.” Y/N nods, hoping and praying to whatever higher power there is that Bucky didn’t catch her staring, and especially not at his ass. “I just need to check your vitals.” Bucky explains, holding up a stethoscope. Y/N gulps. Bucky’s going to be closer to her than he ever has before, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Gently, Bucky lifts up her shirt, pressing the stethoscope to her skin. Despite the sensation of the cool metal against her skin, Y/N has never felt so warm in all her life.

“Your heart rate seems to be elevated.” He muses. “Take a deep breath for me.” As she does, Bucky tuts. “Your breathing is a little shallow, and you seem stressed. Although, I guess that’s normal after something like this.” Oh, if only he knew the true reason. As Bucky checks her blood pressure, his face is mere millimetres from hers. So close Y/N can see the grey hairs within his beard, feel his breath against her skin and even smell its minty freshness. And it’s sending her heart into a spiral. If only she could actually work up the guts to tell him the truth about how she feels. “So, do you mind me asking what happened?” Bucky asks as he checks her ankle, gently pressing against the tender skin. Each time he touches it, it sends shockwaves throughout her entire body.

“Well, let’s just say alcohol and high heels really aren’t the best combination. God, I knew it was a bad idea to wear those shoes. Especially when I’m so clumsy.”

“It’s alright. You’re not the first patient I’ve seen who needs a bit more practice with heels, and you definitely won’t be the last.” He reassures her, his words making her smile. A genuine smile, her first since she hurt her ankle. “If I’m hurting you, just say okay?” Actually, it doesn’t hurt. Or at least, not as much as she expected it to. Of course, part of it could be down to the shock, but she knows a larger part of it is because of how much care and tenderness Bucky is treating her with. She looks up, catching his eyes. Would telling him the truth be so bad after all? “I think you’re right. It’s starting to bruise, and it looks like a sprain. But I still want to take you to hospital to get you checked out and get an X-Ray, just in case.” 

“Let me guess, the one I work in? God, my coworkers will never let me live it down.” Y/N groans as Bucky injects her with some pain meds.

“If anyone gives you trouble, just tell me, alright? I’ve got your back.” He winks, and Y/N’s stomach flutters again.

“My hero.” she giggles, and Bucky even bows for her. But Bucky is a hero, one who saves people day in and day out. Hopefully, he knows just how loved and appreciated he is. Of course, as a doctor, Y/N knows people would say the same about her too. Yet, she knows she doesn’t hold a candle to just how kind and caring Bucky is.

Throughout the ride to the hospital, Y/N begins to get sleepier as the meds begin to work. “Thanks Bucky. You know, I should get you a drink after this.” She mumbles, not expecting him to hear her. But when Bucky laughs and says, 

“Okay, sure. I’d love that.” her blood chills. When she said before that she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole when Bucky first saw her in pain, she was wrong. This is when she wants the ground to swallow her whole. After that, she sits in silence for the rest of the ride, all the way til Bucky wheels her into the hospital. “Well, this is the end of the line.” He sighs, his tone causing Y/N to raise a brow. Maybe it’s just the drugs talking, but she swears Bucky is sad to see her go. “Now, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, alright? I don’t wanna see you here again anytime soon. At least… not on this side of things. We have to get you back here as soon as possible.”

“Thanks Bucky.” She smiles. “It’s just part of the job, right?” She chuckles. Yet, Bucky shakes his head.

“Not always. Sometimes it’s because you care about the person too.” But before Y/N can say anything, he’s gone, off to save the world again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I still cannot believe you got treated and brought in by the hot paramedic.” Y/N’s coworker gasps as she bandages her foot. “What did he say? What did you say?!”

“Nothing.” Y/N sighs. “I was in shock for most of it. Both literally and figuratively.”

“Well, at least you got to hang out with him outside work… sort of.” And now, she’s off work for a bit until her ankle heals, meaning she won’t see Bucky for a while. Just her fucking luck. But then, a knock sounds at the door, and her supervisor pops his head inside.

“This arrived for you, Y/N.” He says, passing over an envelope. Inside is a get well soon card. She knows who sent it to her before she even opens it.

“To Y/N. My favourite doctor. Or should I say my favourite patient? Don’t tell the others I said that. Honestly, though, I hope your ankle feels better soon. If you are serious about that drink, give me a call. Although maybe don’t bring your heels this time.” Bucky’s number is written underneath. Y/N stares at the letter, still unsure that it’s real. Maybe it’s even a hallucination caused by the meds. But, it’s still there. It’s still real.

And that means Bucky wants to see her. Immediately, her heart pounds, and her stomach flutters all over again.

“Oh, my god.” Her coworker gasps, peering over her shoulder to read the card. “Are you gonna call him?”

“Yeah…” Y/N smiles. “Yeah, I think I will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[bigmpregnm]

A Small Bite - Part 2

[Story Collection] | [Part 1] [●] [Part 3]

By the time Matt and I arrived at our apartment, we were panting heavily. My entire body felt hot, and the baby’s constant movement made it difficult for me to catch my breath. I had no idea why, but deep inside, I knew it had something to do with the cookie and the cupcake. My belly felt heavier, and my clothes were tight. It was all pretty strange, but it also felt too good to complain about it.

As soon as we opened the door of our apartment and stepped inside, Matt gently pushed me against a wall and started kissing me with more passion than ever before. It was as if he was possessed, and I could barely contain my own excitement. Our make-out session was so intense that we stayed right by the front door, unable to take a single step, with our lips locked together and our hands exploring each other’s bodies.

I couldn’t get enough of how his muscular body felt against mine. I couldn’t get enough of his big biceps, bulging pecs, and strong shoulders. I was getting so horny that I wanted to tear off his clothes and expose his magnificent upper body. However, I knew he was wearing one of his favorite T-shirts, so I preferred not to do it. Instead, I slipped my hands beneath his t-shirt and started caressing his chiseled abs. Matt was so incredibly hot, and my lust for him was consuming me.

Meanwhile, Matt continued kissing me like never before, making my knees weak. He lifted my T-shirt up to reveal my round belly. Ever since we found out I was pregnant, he had been madly enamored by my belly, taking every chance he got to rub it and make a cute comment about it. This time, though, there were no words, just a lustful physical admiration for each other’s body.

His hands traveled up to my thick pecs, filled with milk, which he loved a lot. I had grown used to him playfully squeezing my pecs or lovingly kissing them. He said they were the perfect complement to my beautiful pregnant form, which I found really cute and made me realize how much he enjoyed having me pregnant with his kid. As we continued making out, he slowly removed my T-shirt, soon followed by his own T-shirt. Feeling each other’s skin triggered a more intense arousal that left us panting in anticipation.

As his hands continued playing with my pecs and caressing my belly, my hands traveled down to his waist and reached back to his big bubble butt. Matt had the type of ass that looked thick and nice even without working, but after many hours in the gym, his butt was a sight to behold. I had never seen a better ass in my life, and his perfect backside was all mine.

I started passionately squeezing his big butt, and I heard soft moans escaping his lips as we kissed. Although I was pregnant, usually associated with more ass-wise activity, he knew that I loved to play with his ass, so he more than willingly allowed me to slide my hands inside his snug pants to grasp his well-developed, meaty, muscular ass. While I had a special liking for what he had at the front, I guess you know what I mean, playing with his ass was definitely my second favorite activity.

As my hands explored inside Matt’s pants and his hands worked wonders on my pregnant body, my cock got so painfully hard inside my pants that it made me groan whenever it throbbed. At the same time, I could feel his crotch pressing against the side of my belly, and given the size of his hard cock, I knew he was just as eager as I was to move to the next stage.

“Matt, I need you inside me… more than ever before... Please, I’m begging you… if that’s what you want… I need you, Matt. Fuck me, please!” I managed to say between kisses, and in an instant, Matt pulled down my pants and underwear, revealing my ample ass. He quickly kneeled down, removing my shoes and socks, leaving me fully naked in the most desperately horny state ever.

“Joey, you don’t have to beg. I can barely resist the urge to fuck you,” Matt said as he lifted me up like newlyweds and carried me to our bedroom. I was surprised by how easily he could lift me up, and the sight of his muscles flexing to carry me through our apartment was more than enough to make me lose my mind. My hands couldn’t resist exploring Matt’s strong pecs, and in that moment, I felt like I was falling in love all over again.

When we entered our room, he carefully placed me on the bed and then took off all his clothes. I was so horny and desperate for Matt’s dick that I even felt my hole somewhat squirming. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was a contraction, but as soon as he removed his pants and underwear, my thoughts were consumed by lust for the magnificent size of his thick 10-inch-dick buried deep inside my ass. There was something about how hard his cock looked that made me want to have that big thing inside me forever.

I was literally drooling, and as he approached, I couldn’t resist reaching forward and giving his dick a firm stroke. Not only was his cock long, but it was also pretty thick, making it impossible for my hand to fully encircle it. This had been a challenge when we first met because I could barely handle his size. However, over time, my body had adjusted to accommodate the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. I mischievously smiled as I continued teasing him, knowing that the massive dick in my hands would put many more kids inside me for years to come.

I looked up at Matt’s face, and his smile sent shivers down my spine. He was by far the most handsome man I had ever met, and he was only mine. As our eyes locked, I leaned in and took the big head of his dick in my mouth, at least as much as I could. I tried my best to accommodate its size, and I used my tongue to tease his slit, making him shudder uncontrollably.

Loud moans escaped his lips, and I couldn’t resist reaching for his bull balls to playfully fondle them. Matt’s balls had always been big. I loved to play with them. I always called them “bull balls” due to their impressive size and fullness, but as I played with them, I noticed they felt even bigger and fuller than ever before.

After teasing him for about a minute, he gently pushed me onto my back in bed. He got on top of me and started kissing my pecs, moving down to my navel and then up again to my neck. It was cute, but I knew his intentions. His lips started getting closer to my nipples, and I couldn’t contain my moans. He knew my nipples were really sensitive, so he started teasing them with his lips and tongue. In an instant, he had me panting and begging for more.

As he kept playing with my pecs, he started lifting my legs to get me in position for what we had been waiting for. I was already moaning, but I knew that what lay ahead would be an even more intense sensation. With my legs up, I felt the big head of his cock pressing against the entrance of my hole, sending shivers down my spine. His kisses moved higher until our eyes met. Our lips locked tightly together. We couldn’t speak, but it felt as though we were communicating on a much deeper level.

With his abs tightly pressed against my belly, he pushed forward and managed to fit the big head of his dick inside my hole. I mentioned that my body had adjusted to the size of Matt’s dick, but what I meant was that I could at least take it, which I initially couldn’t. However, that didn’t mean it wasn’t a tight fit. As he pushed inch after inch of cock into my squirming hole, it felt as though I was being blissfully torn in half. I loved how he made me feel so full and, at the moment, he was making me feel extra full.

When Matt’s hips began to buck, my moans grew louder, and my entire body felt weak. With each passing second, his thrusts got faster and harder than ever before. He smiled at me while his pounding made me feel like I would faint. My mind was blank, and my body was unresponsive. I couldn’t speak even the simplest words, and even then, he continued pounding hard into me. The room was filled with the sounds of my moans, his groans, and the loud clapping sound caused by his body hitting mine whenever he thrust into me.

The sensation and pleasure coursing through my body was different, much better than I had ever felt. I had been longing for a hard fuck for months, and Matt was fucking me better than I could’ve even imagined. I was so lost in pleasure that I lost track of time, and the world around us disappeared. I felt like there was nothing else but Matt, me, and our baby boy who was kicking up a storm inside my belly. As Matt fucked me hard, my hands instinctively rubbed my belly in an attempt to calm down the baby.

I was overwhelmed with pleasure, and it seemed that Matt was feeling the same. We were both sweating, and the sounds of sex were getting louder. On top of it all, with each of his powerful thrusts, it felt as though Matt’s cock was reaching deeper. I thought it was just my mind tricking me because I was high on pleasure, but a part of me wanted to believe that his cock was growing. Also, the impact of his bull balls against my ass felt different too. The force and the sound behind each collision led me to believe they were growing too.

All of these sensations pushed my arousal to unprecedented levels, making my hard cock leak like never before. A part of me wanted to believe that I was actually crazy, as the overwhelming sensations just didn’t make sense. However, I was too high on pleasure to pay attention to my rational thoughts. I looked at Matt’s face, and he was clearly as consumed by pleasure as I was. He looked so hot and virile and was so grateful that he was all mine.

“Joey, I’m so close. I feel like… my balls are about to burst. I need to cum so badly,” Matt said as his thrusts became stronger but more erratic.

“Go ahead. Fill me up,” I managed to say between moans, wrapping my legs around Matt’s strong waist.

His powerful thrusts made me see stars, and just a few seconds after his warning, my own body couldn’t handle the pleasure Matt was giving me. My dick started shooting huge globs of cum onto my belly and Matt’s abs. It seemed like this was all it took for Matt to finally lose control because while I was still shooting, I felt his dick literally exploding inside me, sending a massive wave of cum into my squirming hole. I had no idea how it was possible, but his creamy seed was just flowing into my ass like a river, and what an abundant river it was.

I moaned loudly as I felt my belly filling up with Matt’s immense load, making it bigger and more taut. My hands stayed on my belly, feeling it expand as the flow of cum continued entering my body with the force of a fire hose. Even though I could barely think, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was real or just my imagination. I knew a man couldn’t cum that much, but my growing belly confirmed it was indeed real.

I lost track of time again, and I couldn’t comprehend how or why Matt was cumming like a geyser. Matt’s body convulsed with the intensity of the orgasm. His face was blank, and I could tell he was just as surprised as I was. Then, memories of Sam and Chris at the bakery shop flooded my mind, and I remembered the warning about the cookie and the cupcake. With wide-open eyes, I realized this was why Matt only had to take a small bite. The massive load was a result of how potent the cookie was.

“Just a small bite,” we both said to ourselves in a frightened tone as Matt’s cum shots weakened, and we finally came down from our highs. It seemed like we both thought about the cookie and the cupcake, and things started to make sense, at least a bit.

When Matt finally stopped cumming, we were catching our breath, unable to speak. Despite our confusion, we smiled at each other, and he leaned in to kiss my lips, but we noticed that he couldn’t get as close to me as he used to. We looked down and saw that my big belly had grown to almost twice its size before our love-making session. We were surprised, but considering the size of Matt’s recent load, it made sense, somehow.

“I did that? I mean, I-I… that’s my…” he said, struggling to find the right words to describe my big, tight-looking belly.

“That’s your baby and your cum in there. You, big stud, filled me up like a balloon,” I said playfully and gently caressed my big belly. As I did so, I felt his dick throbbing inside me, clearly ready for round two.

“I should probably pull out before I lose control and get that belly even bigger,” he joked, but I found the idea really hot.

He started pulling his hard dick out of my hole, and I immediately noticed it felt different. It was an unusual feeling, but it was evident something had changed. As the tip of his dick finally popped out of my hole, we both realized what had happened– his cock had grown. We both stared at it in awe, as I estimated it was at least 16 inches long and easily 5 inches in diameter. Below, the impressive sight was completed by melon-sized balls that looked fuller than ever before.

“The fuck happened to me? Am I hallucinating?!” Matt shouted in clear disbelief. Although I was taken aback, I could barely resist the urge to suck on that huge dick as my mind was consumed by the most lustful thought I had ever experienced.

“That’s definitely not a hallucination and… fuck, I can’t believe I had all of that inside me just a few seconds ago,” I said, unable to hide my excitement. Matt looked at me in confusion, realizing I wasn’t scared but gladly surprised. Then, I saw a proud grin slowly spreading across his face.

Before I could say anything, I felt an intense pressure in my lower belly, which made me groan in discomfort. I realized it was a contraction, very likely triggered by Matt’s hard fucking and the size of his dick. I took deep breaths through the contraction but then felt a massive rush of water coming out of my ass, soaking the mattress. My water had broken, and it seemed like Matt had accelerated the labor process way too much.

As more contractions came, I started grunting and groaning. Although our original plan was for me to go to a hospital, before we could do anything, I felt our baby getting in position in my birth canal. I clutched my belly and gritted my teeth, and tears streamed down my face. It was extremely painful, and the fact that it was all happening within a few minutes made it even more intense and frightening.

“We need to go. I’ll call an ambulance. We… we need to take you to the hospital,” said Matt as he attempted to move off the bed.

“We don’t have time,” I managed to say. “You really sped things up with that big dick of yours. This baby is coming now,” I added, and Matt’s face turned pale. “Please help me get on all fours. I read that it usually helps.”

“What? No! Joey, you need to see a doctor,” Matt said, but I just groaned in response as I felt the baby entering my birth canal and quickly making his way into the world. “I told you this was not a good idea. What if I hurt you? What if the baby is hurt?” Matt added, sounding scared, but I held his hand and nodded between contractions.

I knew he was scared, but he helped me change positions. As soon as I did, I felt something shifting in my belly, and the most intense pressure ever took over my abdomen. I screamed out loud, and Matt looked really scared. He rubbed my belly, but we were both confused because it felt like something was moving in my belly, even though our baby boy was almost crowning already.

“Is it… twins?” Matt asked me, but I couldn’t respond because the pressure on my hips and belly worsened.

Then, as we both considered the possibility of another baby, which wasn’t bad, I felt my belly bulging outwards and a tingling sensation spreading all over my hips and ass. Matt and I saw my belly swelling pretty quickly before our eyes. I had no idea what was happening, but I tried to focus on pushing our big baby boy out of my body, unaware that we had a long way to go before it was all over.

...

[nerdy-frog98]

Okay, so I just finished my first watch of s2 of 9-1-1, and here are my overall thoughts:

- So Abby just completely disappeared? No decency to tell Buck they were over? No wonder I’d never really heard about her.

- I’ve only known Eddie for one season but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone and then myself.

- Guys, when I’d heard about the Buck and Eddie ship, I’d expected subtle queer coding, not blatant flirting…? The times they interacted this season were charged with sexual energy, what do you MEAN some people don’t see it?? I guess if you see that shit for seasons and then nothing ever happens about it, I can see why people would complain of blatant queerbaiting.

- in kind of the same point as the last… Buck and Eddie don’t really seem like best friends yet (because their interactions are few and far between, and when they do interact, it’s laden with sexual tension), but I ADORE how much Buck already seems to care for Christopher. I know there is much more to come, but it’s cute seeing them in the early days.

- The threads for Buck’s bisexuality have been there from the beginning btw, said as someone who knows very little about what the plans were. If the intention was to have Buck be a straight man, they maybe shouldn’t have had him connect with basically every gay person he meets & then stare at boys like that.

- The character development happening with every single one of the characters is soooo satisfying. This show is addictive. My fav character is definitely still Buck, but Hen is a very close second.

- I love Maddie so much, and her story is very heartbreaking. Mildly triggering, tbh, but important.

I definitely liked this season better. The character dynamics are more natural now, storylines are getting more satisfying conclusions (though I would still love more of the stuff they mention off screen to happen ON screen), and because the season was so much longer, there were episodes that were dedicated to the backstories of the characters…which helped me connect more with them. I love every character in the 118 and I’m nervous about what’s coming (bc I know the tsunami is coming 👀)

Okay thanks for sticking with me. More later :)

[wandussyfantasy]

Hey buddy

I have a request for Leigh Shaw and GN! Reader w peepee :)

Reader and Leigh have been a friends with benefits type of thing. Leigh also made it clear about no feelings since she wasn't over losing matt and she just needed a distraction. It isn't until she hears that Y/N has been going on a date with Becca, another widow from grief group.

Leigh then confronts reader about it and she realises in that moment that she has feelings for them which she tells them and then walks away. Ghosting them until they confront her at her home while Amy and Jules are out. They tell her how she has ruined their growing relationship with Becca by making them realise that they have always felt the same. Resulting in Leigh bringing them in for a passionate kiss and reader then asking if they can take her on a date.

Thank you awesome dude.

Love Me or Leave Me

Summary: You and Leigh have a special arrangement that gets disrupted when she finds out that you have been dating her friend, Becca.

Pairings: Leigh Shaw x NB!AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 6,749

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!leigh, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, agnst, car hookup, fantasies, teasing, foreplay, and creampie.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

“‘What is grief, if not love persevering?’” The nerdy grief counselor reads out to the group from his notebook. “How can we relate this line to ourselves and our own experiences with grief?” 

You sigh and look over to see that Leigh is just as unimpressed as you are with the new counselor. The one that usually led this group had to move to another state and so the organization has been trying to find a replacement. Unfortunately, the only people volunteering their time to help people with loss either haven’t experienced it themselves or are fresh out of college with psychology degrees they have no clue what to do with. You clear your throat and scratch behind your ear before you fake a phone call and leave the group. “I am so sorry, it’s my mother,” you excuse yourself as some regulars in the group try not to snicker. You walk out to your car and without much thought, you move it to a more secluded spot in the dark parking lot and swipe through a dating app as you wait.

Leigh knocks on your window a few minutes later. “I thought you wanted to give this guy a chance,” she says as she climbs on your lap. 

“I did, until he started quoting a comic book character,” you kiss her to trigger the physical response you needed in order to feel something other than the annoyance and the pain of your loss. She is grinding against your bulge to help you harden. It doesn't take you long, it's been almost a full week since the last time the two of you have met up for this since you went on a short trip with your friends. “You look very pretty in this dress by the way,” you compliment her as you dip your fingers in her panties to rub her clitoris. 

“Shut up,” she says, she thinks you only like it because of the easy access you'll have to her. But then again, that's why she chose to wear the dress in the first place. Leigh wasn't much for wearing dresses unless there was an occasion. Her mom was curious as she left the house and although this is the time Leigh normally attended the group, she began to wonder if her daughter was using that as a cover now and hoped that she was going on a date. You kiss as much of her exposed skin as you can while you finger Leigh and as much as she is enjoying the way your fingers know how to move, that's not what she is looking to penetrate her. She pulls your head up from her chest and kisses you hard. “Fuck me already,” she whispers impatiently. 

“Alright,” you say as you unzip your pants and pull out your dick. “So bossy,” you grumble as you penetrate her. “But fuck, I’m not complaining,” you grunt as soon as her warm walls envelope your thick cock. Leigh holds onto the seat as she rides you until she realizes that something is missing. 

“You have a condom on right?” She asks through breaths as she continues to move her body up and down on your lap. 

“Uh,” you try to figure out the best way to tell her that you don't have one on and the best way at the moment as your brain is clouded with lust is, “No.” 

She doesn't stop moving as she hits you upside your head. “Why not?!” 

“You told me to fuck you already. It's not a big deal, I'll pull out. Oooh this feels so good.” You say as you continue to meet your hips with hers. You start to kiss her body and get even more turned on when you realize she doesn't actually mind that you're fucking her raw. 

“Do you use them when you go on dates?” She asks as she slows down. Pregnancy wasn't her concern. She doesn't want to contract anything, she's gone this long without ever getting anything, she wants to continue that streak. 

“No,” you start out plainly just to mess with. This time she stops moving completely and looks at you with wide eyes. You break into a smile. “I don't sleep with my dates. It's only been you since we started this arrangement. I'm clean, I promise. I got tested weeks ago.” 

Leigh sighs as she wraps her arms around the back of the seat. You move your hands from her thighs to her ass. “Don’t scare me like that again, it's not funny.” She moves her hips in a small circle motion and you moan as you tip your head back as you promise not to do that again. With your neck exposed to her, Leigh does something she never really does. She leans in and starts to softly kiss your neck until she reaches a spot that depending on the shirt you'll be wearing after this, may or may not hide the mark she is about to leave. 

As you feel her sucking on your skin you start to pound into her as you're getting so close to finishing. “How close are you?” You ask as you pick up the pace.

“Almost… almost there,” she pants out as she grips onto you. 

“Where should I…?” you ask as you feel the build up of your impending climax. The answer that Leigh almost gives, surprises her and puts her over the edge as she imagines the way it would feel like to have your cock pulsing inside of her, filling her up with your semen. It's been so long since she's felt that. It was a surprisingly extremely rare occasion with her husband. Since he didn't want kids and was on and off depression medication they rarely had sex without a condom and even if they did, he almost never came because the medicine made it difficult for him. As she orgasms her walls clench around you almost as if they were trying to milk you. Her body is tempted to feel your release in full as she has felt you cum inside of her a few times with the condom on. But she wasn't going to feel it tonight. She pulls herself off of your cock, impressed that you held off your release and she grabs a napkin from the passenger's seat, you typically ate something on the way to the meetings. She covers the tip of your penis and uses her other hand on the base to help you cum. You groan as you empty into her hand. 

“I'll see you later,” she kisses your cheek and exits your car. 

Later that month, Leigh is meeting with Becca for tea before Leigh’s next class. The young widow is still teaching at her mother's women's health studio and Becca attends a class when she can to stay fit and stay connected with Leigh. The two have grown closer as Leigh finally started to let people in, slowly but surely, and Becca has learned to respect Leigh's need for space. 

“So, I've been seeing someone,” Becca starts as she stirs her tea slowly with an anxious smirk as she tries to contain her excitement. 

“Really?” Leigh is surprised, she didn't know that Becca was dating. 

“Yeah,” Becca starts and waits for Leigh to press for more information and once she does, Becca's act falls apart as she spills all of her secrets. “So, you know Y/n, from group? That guy that lost his mom? He's also in some indie band that in my opinion is totally underrated and-” 

“Isn’t Y/n nonbinary?” Leigh cuts Becca off, she didn't like it when people misgendered others, especially not when it's you. 

“Yes! Oh shit, did I say 'he'? Damnit,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I'm still learning this whole gender and pronouns thing. Anyway it's Y/n. We've been on a few dates lately and I think it could turn into something. That's if I don't screw it up. Ugh, I hope I don't. I really like him- them! I like them.” Becca hangs her head. “I swear, I'm not doing this on purpose.”

Leigh remains quiet as she processes this information. She had your tongue inside of her just this morning when she accidentally broke a rule and spent the night at your place. Now she's finding out that you're dating her friend? “It’s fine, I think. I don't know. My sister knows more about it than I do. She says that some people don't mind the mess ups as long as you respect their preferences and don't use the wrong pronouns intentionally.” Leigh says to comfort the girl sitting across from her, giving herself a hard time. 

“Ok,” Becca relaxes her shoulders. “But um yeah, what do you think? Is it bad that I'm going out with them? I mean, yeah, we sort of met at the group but we didn't start talking until we matched on a dating app. I completely didn't recognize them on their profile until we met in person.” Leigh asks if you recognized her on the app and Becca laughs. “They did! They said that's why they felt comfortable asking me out like an hour after we matched and they thought I recognized them too. We had a laugh about it. They're really great, I think the two of you would get along if you wanted more friends.” 

Leigh plasters on a fake smile as she tries to ignore the pain this conversation is causing her. She cannot believe that you started to date Becca without telling her when you knew the two of them are friends. “How long have you been going out?” 

“Oh we’ve been going on what he calls 'intentional dates' once a week every week this month but we hang out all of the time. Except when either of us is busy, which they tend to be. But it's okay, they send me cute messages when we're apart. We haven't been physical yet though, we kiss a lot but when I try to make it more, he stops anything from happening. Oh no, you don't think he might be gay do you?” She has a hand over her chest as she worries about what the lack of a physical connection could mean.

Leigh shakes her head as she sips her tea. “No, I'm sure they're trying to be respectful. I mean, your husband died while serving in the military and they have a band that hardly anyone has ever heard of. It can be intimidating,” she reassures her friend while subtly correcting her. Leigh wonders how often Becca messes up when it comes to how you identify. Leigh never fucks that up and doesn't know how people do. Right now, she can't even figure out what you see in this girl. Sure, Leigh knows you're dating around. But as far as she knew, they were meaningless dates that never got anywhere. She didn't consider what it would be like if you actually found someone that you were interested in. Leigh picks up her phone and sends a risky photo she has been debating for sometime on whether or not she should ever send it to you and adds the message, I need you tonight.

“You are so right, Leigh. They don’t know about how bad my marriage was before my husband died. Maybe I should make the first move!” Becca suggests and that sends images to Leigh’s head that upsets her. She doesn’t want to share you with her. She doesn’t want to share you with anyone. Especially since the two of you have been talking about maybe having more sex without a condom. She wanted to feel you coming inside of her but now she can’t have that if you’re seeing someone exclusively. She probably can’t have you at all if you continue to date Becca. Then Becca gets a message and her grin disappears. “Awe bummer, they canceled our date for tonight,” she frowns. 

“Oh no, did they say why?” Leigh sips her tea as she poorly hides her enjoyment. 

“Yeah, they have band practice. They’re going to let me know when they can reschedule.” She sets her phone on the table. “You don’t think they might be pulling away because they’re intimidated by my dead husband right?”

Leigh shakes her head, “Becca, you’re overthinking it. Have they ever given you reason to worry they’re not being truthful?” 

“No,” Becca says as she thinks about it for a moment. “Well, other than the mark he had on our first date. It was like right here and I thought it was a hickey but he said he got it when wrestling with one of their bandmates.” 

Leigh clenches her jaw as she remembers making that mark. How could you lie to her friend like that? To someone who is so trusting and sees the best in people. Then she gets a reply from you stating that you’re free tonight and will make dinner so they have something to eat after. The both of you know it’s against the rules to share a meal so close to having sex. Since the arrangement was friends with benefits, it wasn’t against the rules to share a meal and they have shared many friendly meals. She has even had you over for a meal with her mom and sister a few times. But when it was shared after having sex at night, it left the option of her falling asleep and spending the night again. Which she already did last night. After the first time that happened and she woke up comfortable and in your arms, she freaked out and didn't talk to you for two weeks and that's when it became a rule. It has only happened a couple times since but you always make sure you're up before she is. 

Leigh knows she's breaking many rules with that picture and request, and she knows that you know it as well. The fact that you don't seem to mind it at all gives Leigh a warm feeling inside. She is the person you would rather spend your time with. “What’s that smile for? Do you have a hot date tonight?” Becca asks as she finishes her tea. 

“What?” Leigh breaks from her thoughts and drops her smile. “No, I just, no. Um look at the time, we better get to the studio. I'm the instructor, I can't be late to my own class.” Leigh gathers her things and Becca follows as she gets ready to leave as well. 

When Leigh arrives at your apartment, she is wearing the sexiest outfit she could find in her sister's closet. Jules was more than happy to lend the outfit and bit her tongue in asking too many questions, she was having fun dressing her sister up. It was another rule broken. Never dress up for sex. It's just sex, come as you are. She was starting to worry that she has broken too many rules by now. No more than one meeting within 48-hours. No sleepovers, unless absolutely necessary. No nudes. No meals together after sex. No jealousy. No preventing the other from getting into a relationship, unless absolutely necessary. No feelings, just sex. But the look you have when you open that door says it all. You don't care about the rules anymore. She wonders if you ever have. 

Leigh greets you with a kiss, it's slow and deep. Unusual to the heated rushed ones you're used to. But you don't mind the change. “I have to say, that picture was quite the surprise,” you start as you guide her to the bedroom. 

“So was your tongue this morning,” Leigh says as she bites her lip. “I thought you deserved a gift as a thank you.” 

You hum, “Well, I didn't need one but it is very appreciated.” You walk her towards the bed with your hands on her hips. “You look stunning tonight, you rule breaker,” you have your lips on her neck as the two of you fall on the bed. 

Leigh lets out a soft giggle in acknowledgement. “You noticed?”

“Of course I noticed, you practically gave me an exam on the rules before the first time we slept together. Well… technically the second time. The first time was an oopsy that got us to the rules.” You lightly remind her as you continue to kiss her body. You love her tastes and her sounds and the way she knows your body like no one ever has before. “What drove you to this?” 

“Don't worry about it, let's just focus on making each other feel good,” Leigh says as she reaches between the two of you to stroke your cock. You don't argue or question her. You rock your hips into her hand until you have to pull away from her to undress. Leigh rises from the bed as you sit next to her and start pulling your pants down. Once your shirt is off, Leigh stands in front of you and when you're not paying attention to her she lifts your chin with her finger. “Watch me,” she says as she kisses your lips. 

You are surprised by her again. Leigh starts to do a little strip tease for you. Pulling her clothing off slower than she ever has before. The way she sways her body around and removes the clothing is unpracticed and a little goofy but you don't laugh, you sit there and stroke your penis as you watch her. You lick your lips as you think about being inside of her again. There isn't anything else on your mind but being with Leigh right now. 

However, Leigh is stressing herself out. She can't tell if you're enjoying her little routine or if you think she is being ridiculous. She rushes the ending of her little performance, thinking what Becca might do in this situation. She isn't sure, she doesn't know if Becca would be a slow and patient lover or a fast paced “let's get this over with” lover. Maybe she has kinks and fetishes. Maybe she's vanilla… Leigh can be pretty vanilla. Did you like that? Did you find her boring? Is that why you continue to date even though you have a sexual relationship with her? “Fuck, that was hot,” you whisper as she presses her naked body to yours, breaking her from her spiraling thoughts. You crawl back further on the bed, pulling her with you, and lean against the headboard. “I should have woken you up with a morning cunnilingus ages ago if this is the thanks I would've gotten,” you kiss her and Leigh smiles for a second until she reminds herself why she is acting this way. 

Leigh is on a mission to make you see that you don't need Becca when you have her. No feelings. The rules echo in her head. This is just sex and friendship, nothing more. She tries to remind herself. At the moment she can't figure out how she ended up in this arrangement in the first place. Maybe it was something to do with that thing Becca mentioned to her about being touch starved. Maybe it was finding out that Matt had an emotional affair with his colleague. She could blame the arrangement on being a young widow and not wanting to give her heart to someone yet. Gosh she was a broken record lately. No wonder you were looking for something or more so someone more stable. 

Your lips bring her back to the moment as you travel her body. “You’re so beautiful,” the compliment warns her heart, you don't normally compliment her so much. And under different circumstances, she might have left and not called you for a week but she loves how soft you're being with her right now. She hadn't realized how sweet you are until the thought of losing you started to become a reality. 

“Let’s take it slow tonight,” she whispers as she lets go of the manic energy she came in with. 

“Okay,” you caress her cheek as you agree. She leans into your touch as you do. You move your fingers under her chin and guide her into a slow kiss. She melts against you as your lips move together. You swiftly move the two of you so that you're on top of her. “Lay on your stomach,” you say. Leigh makes a face. “Just trust me.” 

“Alright,” she flips onto her stomach and pulls the pillows under her arms to prop herself up comfortably. The mattress creeks as you leave the bed to retrieve the massage oil and Leigh lifts her head up. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to give you a massage,” you say as you return with the oil. You straddle her legs, your cock laying against her soft bottom, rubbing the oil on your hands before you start to spread it in her back. You are slow and careful with where you apply pressure. Leigh has never been given a massage as part of sex before and she wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. She couldn't deny that it felt good though, you really seemed to know what you were doing. As you rub her shoulders, you start to kiss her neck and as you move your hands lower, your lips and body follow. 

You take a moment to rub and massage her butt cheeks then move onto her thighs. She started to hum as her body was a little sore from the classes she had to teach earlier. Leigh hadn't realized how much she needed this massage until she had your magic hands on her. Then as you're rubbing the back of her thigh, she feels your tongue inside of her and she lifts her head up again in surprise. She had gotten so lost in the other sensations that she forgot for a moment what the two of you were doing. 

You only move your tongue inside of her for a minute or two before you return your focus to the massage. “Lay on your back now,” you say as you are now standing in front of the bed. Leigh flips over again, relaxing into the mattress in a way she never has before. You grab her left foot and start kneading it with your thumbs, following it with circular motions. Leigh wasn't someone that liked her feet touched in a sexual context but it's been forever since she's had a foot massage and the way you were doing it surprisingly wasn't turning her off. She's grateful when you don't kiss her feet. 

You grab the towel you had brought with you and wipe the excess oil off of your hands. You crawl your way back up Leigh's body, stopping for a moment to kiss her pussy. You trace patterns on her skin with your tongue that send chills up her spine. She worries that it's about her too much and that she isn't doing anything to pleasure you but her thoughts leave her mind again as you latch your mouth on her breast with your fingers inside of her. She moves her hands from her sides to touch you as you continue to make her feel everything. She starts with running her fingers through your hair. It was longer than when she met you since you wanted to grow it out this year. She wasn't sure how this length would look on you but as it's grown, she hasn't had a single complaint. Then as your mouth moves across her chest, her hands move down your back. She can't massage you nearly as well as you had done for her but she does what she can and you appreciate the effort. 

When you're done paying attention to her breasts, you pull your fingers out of Leigh. You trace her lips with the coated fingertips until you dip them in her mouth and she licks them clean. Your dick twitches at the sight. You kiss her on the mouth as you line yourself up at her entrance. You move the head of your penis up and down between her wet folds to prolong the action and then you reach for the condom on the nightstand. 

“No,” Leigh stops you as she covers your hand with hers. “I don't want anything between us tonight,” she says. Always wear a condom, no matter what. 

You nod, “Okay.” 

You press into her entrance slowly and it's like she's feeling you for the first time. Like really feeling you. Not just riding you to get her climax. This isn't a drunken decision like the actual first time. This isn't just something that the two of you are doing to pass the time. This is real. The two of you are making love. This isn't fucking. This isn't just sex. It's slow and intimate and passionate. It's something that she wants for as long as she can have you. Leigh doesn't want to lose you to some other girl. 

As the two of you make love, she decides that she isn't going to be afraid anymore. She is going to tell you how she feels about this arrangement and she hopes that you'll feel the same. As she gets closer to her climax her mind is wiped clean, not a thought haunts her as she chants, “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” over and over again. Anticipating her walls squeezing your penis so close to your own orgasm, you start to pull away from her, planning on having her finish on your mouth. But Leigh has other plans as you pull away, she locks her legs around your back, keeping you inside of her. 

“Leigh, I won’t be able to hold off,” you warn her. 

She kisses your mouth, “It’s okay, I want you inside.” Her words trigger the two of you to share the most euphoric orgasms either of you has ever had in your lives. You've never released inside of someone without a condom before and the feeling was like nothing you've ever experienced before. As for Leigh, she is enjoying every pulse of your penis as you empty your balls into her. 

“Fuck, Leigh. What's gotten into you?” You pant out the question with a laugh as the two of you calm down. Once you start to soften, you pull out and roll next to her. Leigh is quick to roll on top of you, laying against your chest as you catch your breath. 

“Nothing, just a thank you,” she replies as she snuggles against you. Holding you as close as she can. No cuddles or snuggles or any physical touch unless it's related to sex. Leigh tries to get her brain working again so she can tell you how she feels but she's also enjoying being in your presence and relaxing in the moment. 

Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of time before your phone starts going off. You grab it from the nightstand and sigh with a frown. “I’m sorry, Leigh. I have to take this.” You kiss her on the lips while you pull away from her. Leigh wraps herself in your blanket as she watches you leave the room. You hop on one foot at a time as you put your basketball ball shorts on and answer the phone. “Hey cutie, what's up? Yeah, it's going great. Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't tonight. But maybe we can do something tomorrow night?” You say as you walk away. 

Leigh scoffs, she couldn't believe what she was overhearing. You had just came inside of her and you were making plans with Becca. Bubbly, positive, happy, pretty Becca. Not complicated and upfront with her feelings, Becca. Perfect widow, Becca. She gets out of the bed as she becomes blind with rage. She feels so used. Clearly breaking the rules wasn't enough to keep your attention. You still wanted her and not Leigh. 

She angrily grabs her clothes off of the floor and when you return she is almost fully dressed. “What's wrong, Leigh?” You say as you notice how upset she is. 

“You!” she snaps. 

“What?” Leigh storms past you and you follow her. “Leigh, talk to me, please.” You try to get ahead of her before she can get to the door but the apartment is small and she has it swung open before you can push it closed. “Leigh, please, tell me what I did wrong!” You beg as you continue to chase her. It didn't make any sense, she was holding onto you. She let you cum inside of her. She sent you that picture. She was so happy five seconds ago. It couldn't have been the call, you've taken them a couple times before. One time she even answered the phone for you and sucked you off while you chatted with the girl. This doesn't make any sense. 

“You had to start dating my best friend! Didn't you? What? One widow wasn't enough to have on your roster? You had to have two?” She shouts as she spins in front of you. 

“Oh shit,” you stand there dumbly as you realize she knows about Becca. “Leigh, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be a big deal. And best friend? Really?” She narrows her eyes at you. 

“So not the point,” she starts through gritted teeth as she stops and spins to look at you, “she is still my friend. That's so low of you to put in this position!”

“Shit,” you shut your eyes as you understand where she's coming from now. “Leigh, please, come inside and let's talk about this.”

“Are you going to stop seeing her?” 

“What?”

“It’s a simple yes or no question. Are you going to stop seeing Becca?” She asks again. 

“I don't know,” you deflate. “Becca is the first person, other than you, who seems to get me. We connect well and she's sweet and considerate and goofy and if I'm honest, I kind of like hanging out with her. It's not easy dating these days.” 

“Do you want to get serious with her?” Leigh asks. 

You haven't really given it much thought. You were just enjoying your time with Becca right now. In a similar way you were enjoying your time with Leigh. “I don't know,” you shrug. “Maybe? But what do you care?”

“What do I care? Do you really think I'm so heartless?” Leigh says back. “I care because I’m in love with you! You fucking idiot!” Leigh freezes and her angry expression drops as her blood runs cold in her body. She doesn't give you a moment to respond or even process. Leigh gets in her car and leaves. This time, you don't chase after her. 

Leigh knew she wanted an exclusive relationship but she didn't know how deep her feelings ran. Is she ready to be in love with someone? She isn't sure. Not after the rollercoaster that was Matt and his secrets. You and her were a secret and you kept it so well. Can she even trust you? Do you trust her?

Her phone ringing snaps her out of her thoughts for a second. She knows it's you. She can't answer. This is not an easy situation by any means and she needs to distance herself from you. Figure out how she really feels and maybe you will do the same. There's a chance she could lose you for good. Lose you to Becca. But that could be a good thing for both of you. 

Your phone calls don't stop for the rest of the night. The next day it's text messages and the day after, it's nothing. You finally go silent and Leigh is both relieved and terrified. She has no idea what you're thinking right now. She has no idea how you feel. She cannot believe she said those words to you. What was she thinking? She wasn't. 

The next week she receives a few messages from you, asking to talk, but she never responds. Leigh isolates herself from everyone she knows just in case you try to go to them to get to her. She doesn't hang out with Becca because she cannot stand to hear how great things are between the two of you. Or how horrible things are. Either way, she doesn't want to know. When her mom and Jules try to ask her what's wrong, she avoids the subject and they figure that she's having another “Matt episode” and they leave her be. 

Leigh decides to visit her husband's grave and think about the life they could have had. Would she be in his arms right now while he thought of another woman? Would he have left her for this woman? Or was it a crush that would have faded? Would he ever come around to the idea of kids? Or would that have been their breaking point? Did they get married too young? Did they move too fast? She has so many unanswered questions about their relationship, and he isn't here to help her figure them out. Not that him being here would have been much help. There are so many questions surrounding you and instead of talking to you, she's hoping that ghosting you will keep you away. 

Another week goes by and this time she doesn't hear from you at all. More silence. But there is no peace in it. She can't keep going like this. She wants to call you but she's scared. At least this way, the only person that gets hurt is her. You and Becca can be living happily ever after with each other and she will try to find something simple and easy. The weekend that her mom is away at a retreat and Jules is spending the night at her current girlfriends house, Leigh invites Drew to go out. She drinks and dances and flirts until she finds someone to go home with. It gets hot and heavy and she sloppily makes out with this person, trying to get their clothes off. Except, it doesn't go past the intense kissing because she breaks down into tears. She falls apart in the strangers apartment and they are nice enough to allow her the space to let it out. She ends up passing out there and they let Leigh sleep it off in their bed and they move to the coach. They drop her off at her house early the next morning. 

“Leigh,” your voice is broken and you wake to her slamming the car door shut. Leigh’s face is a mess from sleeping and crying in her makeup but that's not what you're thinking when you set your eyes on her.  You startle her as she climbs the porch steps. “Oh,” you say as you put two and two together. Leigh's hair and outfit are all out of sorts and you remember seeing her like that after a night with you. “Okay then, I'm clearly wasting my time here,” you rise and stretch your stiff limbs, sore from sleeping next to the front door, and wipe yourself off. “I’m sorry, I'll leave you alone.”

Leigh watches you in shock, you're standing in front of her. You're a mess and you're here. She has images in her head of what you would look like by now. Clean and happy and waking up to a nice warm breakfast with Becca. Not here. Not waiting for her all night. “What are you doing here?” The words come out harder than intended and she wants to rewind but it's too late. 

You scoff, “Making a fool of myself, clearly.” You start to walk away but Leigh reaches for your wrist to stop you and you do. It's been far too long without her touch and even this little bit is more than enough to get you to fall apart. 

“I’m sorry, I panicked,” she says in a small voice with her head down. You sigh as you fight against your better judgment. She has a hold on you that you didn't realize was there until you almost lost it. Or maybe you have lost it. You don't know yet. “I’m not good at this. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.”

You aren't sure if she means that she's not good at ending things or if she's not good at fixing them. You look over at your car and think about the night you ended things with Becca. You still weren't certain if you felt the same way about Leigh or if you had those feelings for Becca so you had to see for yourself. You continued to talk with her after the whole thing with Leigh but you kept your distance. Then you finally took her on a date, ready to end the night in bed with her but throughout the evening you noticed how you had to force yourself to continue a conversation or even pay attention to one of her stories. It was natural with Leigh. When you tried to sneak a taste of her food she got weird and territorial about it, surprisingly Leigh never did. Whatever you thought you had with Becca before Leigh's confession was gone and you realized that the only person you wanted to be with was Leigh. So when you dropped Becca off at her apartment and she tried to kiss you, you stopped her and told her that you had a complicated thing with someone else and that you couldn't continue with Becca anymore. She took it very hard. She was in tears and she couldn't believe that you had strung her along the way you did. You tried to tell her it wasn't like that but it didn't do any good. It was hard to end things with her but it was what was best for the both of you. 

Now you have to work it out with Leigh. Well, either you work it out or you have to let her go. “Just talk to me, Leigh. You tell me that you love me and then you run away. I've been worried sick for weeks and you wouldn't talk to me!” You pull your wrist out of her grasp and pace between her and the front door. Pulling on your already messy hair. “Then I come here and wait all night for you to let me in and you're off fucking someone else!” You stop in front of Leigh with red eyes and tears at the brim. “Am I stupid for being here?”

“No,” Leigh says as a wave of sadness hits her. Her lips quiver and she drops her shoes to grab your shirt to pull you close to her. “No, you're not stupid. I'm so sorry,” you let her lean against you, but you don't wrap your arms around her yet. Leigh sighs, happy to feel you again. “Gosh, I've missed you,” she whispers into your chest. “I didn't have sex with that person. I tried to but I didn't want to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ghosted you. I should have stayed. I'm sorry. Is it too late?” She pulls back enough to look at you. 

Looking in her eyes, she is being sincere and vulnerable and you've never fallen for anyone harder than you are right now. You know that things won't always be easy with Leigh. But she is worth it. You wrap your arms around her and bring her into a warm embrace. You feel your heartbeat against you and it heals the cracks in your heart. “No, it's not too late.” You hold her. “But I do think we need to start over.”

“Okay, yeah,” she nods and sniffles. “Whatever you want. I'll do it. I just want to be with you,” she holds you tighter. 

“I just want to be with you,” you say as you step back and pull her into a passionate kiss. It didn’t matter to you that she had a bad morning breath with a hint of whatever alcohol she consumed the night before. And your morning breath didn’t affect her either. In fact, she wanted more of you. But you pull away before she can deepen the kiss and rest your forehead against hers. “Will you let me take you out on a proper date, Leigh Shaw?” 

“Yes, I will,” the two of you kiss again.

The End.

[armand1481]

Hey Armand, I love your art! I have a sort of offbeat question, just bcus I can’t stop wondering about it fsr, ig bcus I always found it a lil weird how you never addressed it. I’ve been following you for a long time, ever since I saw you featured on PainteroftheMillenia’s channel, when I was around your age at the time, and I remember you used to go by Amadeo? And I'm just curious why you changed it? Changing your name online isn’t that interesting but with you I'm super curious, maybe bcus you’ve been so cryptic ever since the change. It’s like you're a different person now, not that I’m complaining. I think you’ve improved a lot as Armand, and I honestly prefer your style now. I just wonder what happened there? Thanks, and if u don’t wanna talk about it no problem, I get u don’t rlly talk about urself online anymore, which is probably smart lol

Amadeo isn’t who I am anymore. When I started to form my own internet presence I wanted it to be true to the person I felt I was, and that person was not Amadeo. I didn’t want to be associated with him any longer so I changed my name on all my socials. Amadeo (the name) is also linked to a lot of bad memories for me, and it was used by people who hurt me, to the point where hearing it is triggering for me.

So I don’t wish to be called it, I’m only Armand now. Armand has brought with it its own scars, but it’s also brought many pleasures. Most importantly Armand belongs to me. Amadeo never felt like it belonged to me, it was representative of what others wanted of me. Never again. If you remember me as Amadeo, purge him from your mind. Scrub him from your eyes when you look upon me if need be so that you don’t see that boy when you see me. Thank you.

[ambrossart]

I want to ask a question that's kind of has nothing to do with the plot of paper men like just out of curiosity . I was wondering who do the members of bowers gang feel jealous of ? I mean ofc each one of them has insecurities and feel jealously and I am curious to know who they might be jealous of

Hmm… this is a really interesting question. I’m assuming you mean jealousy as in “envy” and not the romantic form of jealousy. I certainly hope so because I find the former way more interesting than the latter.

Anyway, I can't think of a good lead-in for this, so let's just get right to it!

Henry

Henry is, without a doubt, the most jealous/envious person in the entire gang, and I wouldn’t be surprised if, at least subconsciously, that’s why he targets the kids he does. It’s definitely not as random as it seems.

He can experience jealousy toward anyone: kids who excel at school; kids who excel at sports; kids who can afford new clothes every year, new shoes, new backpacks, school supplies, etc.; kids who are well-liked and popular; kids who get to be carefree kids. Henry’s very easily triggered.

But above all, Henry’s jealous of people who have what he covets most: a happy, loving family.

In the most recent chapter (yes, I know you said this has nothing to do with Paper Men, but too bad, I make everything about Paper Men 😂), he expressed a lot of jealousy toward Victor Criss. And it’s not just because Evelyn used to have a crush on him (even though that does bother him).

It’s because, in Henry’s eyes, Vic has everything. He’s naturally smart to the point where he doesn’t even have to try. He has two parents who, flawed as they may be, love him unconditionally. Yet Vic is constantly complaining about his life. That’s really annoying for Henry, who, let’s be real, would trade places with Vic in a heartbeat.

“You think your mom’s annoying and overbearing? Well, fuck you, my mom abandoned me.”

“You hate your braces? I can’t even afford braces.”

“You’re tired of your mom nagging you to eat dinner with her? I ate beans out of a tin can last night.”

I could go on and on, but… yeah, Vic pisses Henry off, which is why their relationship is as strained as it is. They’re still friends, of course, but they’re not as close as Henry and Belch are. Not by a long shot.

Victor

Vic is the second most jealous, but he hides it well.

We know Vic struggles a lot with anxiety, self-hatred, and sensory issues, so he’s very jealous of people who are unburdened by those kinds of things.

People who are naturally friendly and outgoing, people like Evelyn Tozier, people like his childhood friend Jimmy Duncan, evoke a lot of envy for him.

He’s already expressed a little bit of jealousy toward Evelyn, especially when they were kids.

Evelyn would invite herself over on the holidays and chat up Vic’s family like she’s known them for years. Vic could never do that. He still can’t do that, but she makes it look effortless. That’s incredibly frustrating for him.

Unlike Henry, Vic internalizes all of these ugly feelings instead of taking them out on everyone else. This, in turn, only feeds his self-loathing.

Vic seems to hate a lot of people, but he hates himself the most.

Martin Davers is a close second.

Belch

Belch is one of the least jealous among the gang.

All in all, he’s pretty satisfied with his life. Sure, it could be better, but it could also be a lot worse.

It could be like Henry’s, for example.

That being said, I do think he envies, just a little, those who have fathers in their lives.

Belch’s dad died when he was very young, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a little triggered by that. It doesn’t make him angry or anything, but it does make him sad sometimes.

I could also see him being envious of wealth and the opportunities that provides.

For instance, Belch would love to participate in extracurricular activities. He’d love to play sports. But that involves a lot of money and time, neither of which he has in abundance.

I think Belch would secretly love to be one of the jocks, and to enjoy all the perks that come along with that, but he would rather spend his free time earning money than tossing a ball around.

It’s a sacrifice, but one he’s willing to make.

He’s the best. 🥰

Patrick

Patrick is the least jealous because Patrick doesn’t give a shit about anybody other than himself.

Seriously, if Patrick sees himself as the only fully conscious being, why would he feel jealous of anyone? As far as he’s concerned, nobody else is on his level. He’s the sole supreme being in this universe.

(Sure, Patrick, sure.)

Now, you could argue that Patrick has expressed some jealousy toward Jake Newham, but I wouldn’t really call that jealousy.

Jealousy’s such an emotional thing, and this isn’t emotional for Patrick, not at all. He simply sees Jake as a potential obstacle, one he’s ready to eliminate if necessary.

If Patrick thought Evelyn truly liked Jake, if he thought Jake was the one Evelyn was saving her first kiss for, Jake would be six feet under right now. He’d be deader than dead.

The whole kiss thing genuinely irritates Patrick.

Why wouldn’t it? He’s used to girls throwing themselves at him and practically begging him to take their virginity.

But Evelyn’s being especially difficult, and this confounds Patrick to no end. It just doesn’t make any sense. He can tell Evelyn’s starting to like him. He can tell she wants to kiss him. But she’s still hesitating, and it’s all because of this mysterious other person, a name she refuses to give up.

It’s all very annoying for Patrick.

So if Patrick was capable of jealousy, it would all be directed toward this other person.

He hasn’t quite figured out who it is yet, but he definitely has his suspicions.

Sorry if this is shit. I haven’t done one of these in a while, so I’m a little rusty. Plus I honestly suck at these anyway.

[buckysqueen80]

Warnings: fluff, angst and triggers.

Rainy Day Cuddles

The clap of thunder shook the glass on the windows as the rain pelted down hard outside.

I waited a few seconds, and counted to ten, knowing that within that time frame, I’d hear the sound of footsteps that would be stopping just outside of my door.

By the time I reached ten, the footsteps stopped and a light rapping on the door followed.

Letting out an I was right sigh, I got up and went to open the door.

There on the other side of my door stood a skittish and trembling Bucky.

“What’s up Barnes?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Can I stay with you until the storm is over?” he asks, in a low, almost inaudible voice.

For someone who used to be the world’s deadliest assassin, it still baffled me how he could be afraid of the thunder.

But then again, Bruce had said that some loud sounds could and probably would trigger episodes of PTSD in Bucky.

Just so happened that thunder was one of those things.

What I found funny was that out of everyone he could go to when these episodes happened, he always came to me.

Not once have I seen him go to Steve, Natasha, Sam, Bruce or even Tony for that matter.

He always managed to land at my door, which I secretly enjoyed, because I had this deep rooted crush on him.

I opened the door wider, indicating that he could come in.

Once he was in, I closed the door and went to crawl back on my bed.

To my surprise, Bucky had already tucked himself in, and was curled up on his side waiting for me to come cuddle him through the storm.

Once I got comfortable, I lifted my arm and Bucky immediately curled up against me, putting his head on my chest.

Every time there was a clap of thunder, Bucky would let out a whimper.

To try and calm him down, I started playing with his hair.

I continued this as the storm raged on, focusing on his breathing, until I noticed it became more shallow, slower and deeper.

I looked down and saw that Bucky had been able to relax not only to the point of calming down, but that he had drifted off to sleep.

Smiling to myself in the dark, I closed my eyes and let the rain and the fading thunder along with Bucky’s breathing lull me to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the sun streaming in through the curtains, as I tried to sit up, but encountered some resistance by a body strewn across me.

As I looked down, I observed how peaceful Bucky looked, and didn’t have the heart to wake him.

As a particularly interesting thought occurred to me, Bucky started to stir.

“Morning!” I spoke softly, as he stretched, causing the blankets to fall below his waist.

How did I not notice that Bucky didn’t have a shirt on when he came into my room last night?

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his bare chest.

“Good morning Doll.” he mumbled back, turning to face me.

“How did you sleep?” I asked him.

“Probably the best night’s sleep in a while.” he says, a blush kissing along his cheeks and nose.

I decided to act up my thought, and turned to face Bucky.

“Hey Bucky?” I start, waiting for him to look at me.

As I lay there, Bucky raised his Azure blue eyes to meet mine.

He absentmindedly ran his tongue over his bottom lip, before letting out a “hmmm?”

I swallowed hard, wondering why I was suddenly having a hard time with my throat being dry.

“W-why, when there is a loud noise, you come running to me? Not that I’m complaining, but I just… I just never see you go to anyone else if I’m here.” I rambled, starting to panic when his facial expression dropped and a look of sadness replaced the soft features of his angelic face.

“If it’s a bother to you that I come to you, I can stop.” he mumbles, while starting to sit up.

I reached out a hand to stop him from retreating inwards, and from leaving the bed.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all. What I meant was, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to come to me when you’re feeling uneasy. I love that you do, and I’m glad I can make you feel comfortable and relaxed enough to calm down. It’s just that, apart from when I go on missions, whenever you have one of your triggered episodes, I know to expect you. I was just wondering why me?” I blurted out in a rushed breath.

Bucky looked down at the floor, and said something low, and I almost couldn’t hear it.

“Because you make me feel safe. You have become a safe haven to me, when everything becomes chaotic and starts to crumble. And you give the best cuddles.” he finished matter of factly, letting his shoulders slump forward.

I sat there, looking at him for a moment, his back still facing me, as I opened and closed my mouth several times, before he turned around to look at me.

“I…..” I started, genuinely being lost for words.

Apparently Bucky wasn’t finished with his admission.

He reached down and gently took my hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Y/N. Since the first day we met, you’ve only ever treated me as a person. You didn’t judge my past, or treat me like a monster, that I used to see myself as. You gave me a reason to want to be better, not just for everyone or myself, but for you as well. And for all that and so much more, that’s the reason why I fell for you. Why I come to you when I have my episodes.

You make me feel human, and not like the animal I used to feel like when they started. You give me hope, and I know you may not feel the same back for me. That is fin….”

I cut him off mid sentence by getting up on my knees, placing both hands on his cheeks and crushing our mouths together.

His hands circled around my waist, as our lips seemed to fuse together.

When the threat of suffocation was very prominent, we separated a bit so we could breathe.

“I love you too, Bucky. I have pretty much since the first day. I just was never sure you felt the same. And then this morning, it kind of dawned on me why you would always come to me.” I said, as Bucky blushed at my statement.

He pulled me onto his lap, peppering my face with kisses, causing me to giggle.

After kissing for a bit longer, we laid back down, our hands joined, and fingers intertwined.

As we laid there for who knows how long, the weather decided to rain again. Bucky and I cuddled up together letting the rain hit the window.

Who knew that I would end up loving rainy day cuddles.

[space-mermaid-writing]

You cat stephen fic was perfect!💘

I was wondering If you could write a cat tony fic where stephen accidentaly casts a spell on him cuz he was being annoying😅

I did my best to write a cat!Tony story that lives up the cat!Stephen fic. I hope you like it 🐈 (As so often, this got way longer than planned; and that's also why you had to wait so long for this...) Beta by KJ :)

Summary: Stephen looked at the pile of clothes from which a very clearly not amused cat looked back. “Well, shit…”

Tags: cat!Tony, magical shenanigans, panic attack, normal cat behavior, fluff, fun, bordering on crack, don’t take this too seriously, just the regular everyday weirdness of magic man and engineer guy

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Cat!Stephen | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 5.4k

Cat for a day

Stephen looked at the pile of clothes from which a very clearly not amused cat looked back.

“Well, shit…”

His previous anger was forgotten, replaced by mild annoyance,  as always when Tony touched something he wasn’t supposed to touch.

Well, he hadn’t touched the relic per se. Not with his hands anyway. But something in his aura – or Vishanti knew what – had triggered the relic and activated it mid-argument.

It hadn’t been anything important they had been arguing about, merely another technicality. Sometimes Stephen wondered why Tony bothered coming over into the Sanctum he loved to criticize the interior of; when they almost always ended up arguing about something.

It might have something to do with the fact that they were dating; which was a recent development. Tony could always change his mind… until then Stephen would happily welcome him into the Sanctum.

Anyway, that wasn’t the point here. The point was that Tony was now standing on four legs instead of two. And he was way more furry than he should be.

Stephen did this thing where he raised his brow totally unimpressed. “That’s what you get for touching stuff you shouldn’t,” he said in his best ‘I told you so’-voice.

The cat huffed and the noise he made sounded rather hoarse; as he had yet to figure how to use his new voice. The intent of his words was clear though. At least to the sorcerer.

“Well, you did something to that globe, because I didn’t use magic and I’m pretty sure you didn’t spontaneously develop a shapeshifting talent in the past five minutes.”

The cat climbed out of the pile of fabric. More noises came out of that tiny mouth. Stephen had no idea what he said but it sounded a lot like complaining. He waited until Tony was done and stared up at him, expectantly.

Only then did Stephen move his hands for a spell. “Stand still while I get you back. And don’t yell at me when you find out you are naked. None of this is my fault.”

He performed a simple counter spell; it was standard procedure really.

It did nothing.

Stephen tried two other spells – Tony remained a cat.

Something wasn’t right here and for the first time, the sorcerer felt uneasy. Turning Tony back shouldn’t be this complicated. He didn’t like to not know what was going on.

“I need to do some research,” he hesitantly admitted.

His words seemed to trigger something in the feline. Tony suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. His chest was too tight, and everything around him too big. His little body tensed and a weird noise escaped him, some kind of wheezing from deep within his lung.

“Tony.”

The cat didn’t seem to hear him. He was shaking and looked like he was five seconds away from running off. Stephen's hand gently grabbed the feline’s neck – right at the spot where a mother carried their kittens – and he applied soft pressure.

Tony had never been a kitten, but he stilled anyway.

“Deep breaths, Tony. In…and out… in…”

The cat slowly but visibly relaxed. He was still not making a move, but his eyes were more present; not as clouded as they had been moments before.

“You with me?” Stephen asked and got a small meow in return. He let go of Tony tentatively. The cat remained pressed to the floor for a second. Then he sat up, the shaking not yet completely gone, and looked around as if embarrassed by the panic attack.

There was no one around; they were all alone.

“Let’s go to the library.” The cat nodded, then yelped when he got scooped up into Stephen's arms. “I got you,” the sorcerer soothed him.

He was careful not to touch Tony’s chest since he was pretty confident that this weak spot had been transferred to the new body.

Tony was smart enough not to wriggle. Instead, he snuggled into his arms.

Tony was actually quite a cute cat; a brown and black tabby. Funnily enough, his facial hair had been translated into the fur pattern.

Stephen turned to walk away, but then remembered something: he shouldn't keep clothes lying around randomly in the relic room. With a flick of his hand, he teleported them ahead into the library.

He himself took the path on foot so as not to expose Tony to any more magic.

Besides, it wasn't far.

Once in the library, he set Tony down next to his clothes on a couch. "I need to get some books. Make yourself comfortable. It won't take long."

He disappeared between the shelves.

Tony looked after him. Another wave of panic rose briefly, but he quickly swallowed it down.

It was fine, he told himself. Stephen would fix this.

He decided to simply not think about the fact that magic had affected his body without Tony’s consent. His mind was still the same; it was only just his body that had changed.

He let out a frustrated noise, that sounded very much like a growl.

Oh yeah, and he couldn’t talk anymore. At least not with his normal voice. Stephen seemed to understand the sentiment well enough though.

That reminded Tony of something and he searched for his phone in the pocket of his pants.

It was difficult to pull out the device if you had no thumbs. Or any fingers at all. But after a few slippery attempts, he finally managed it.

And was immediately facing the next daunting task: using the touch screen.

It took him a while to figure out that his nose worked quite okay with the tech. Tony opened the app for writing notes – he had never used it before. Normally he talked to Jarvis. That was way faster and Jarvis knew how to filter his waterfall of words.

Now writing with his nose one letter at a time was frustratingly slow. Jarvis had been alerted when Tony unlocked the phone, but probably kept his quiet to wait for what happened because he couldn't identify Tony's voice nor his fingerprints.

Tony was halfway through his explanation when the A.I. finally spoke up. “Sir, am I right in assuming that you got turned into a cat but you are still able to understand English?”

The cat looked into the camera and nodded. “Meow.”

“I need you to confirm your identity,” Jarvis nevertheless demanded the safety measure that Tony had introduced to him.

The cat typed the combination of numbers and letters into his phone. They vanished as soon as he finished.

“Identity confirmed. Do you require medical attention, Sir?”

Tony denied it and told Jarvis to put his calendar on hold for the day until his situation got sorted out.

It was inconvenient to spell everything out, but this was his only way to communicate at the moment.

By then Stephen was back with his pile of books. He noticed the cat's head peeking over the back of the couch.

“You alright there, Tony?”

“Meow?”

He took that as a ‘yes’ and sat down to open the first book.

Tony curled up but soon enough he was bored. For one, he wasn’t in the mood to relax. Plus, he had never been one for idly sitting around; not as a human being, and not as a cat either.

He stretched; first his front, then his back legs. He then yawned widely.

His new body felt more agile. Lighter. His chest still hurt, as well as his left front leg. His shoulder had never fully healed.

Nevertheless, he had no trouble jumping off the couch silently. His tail flicked.

Everything seemed taller; the furniture, the ceiling. Tony had to crane his neck up; and decided immediately that he wasn’t a fan of this fact.

If Stephen noticed he left his place, he didn’t react and Tony took that as an invitation to leave the library in order to find food. Getting accidentally transformed had kicked up his appetite and he felt hungry. Purposeful small steps led him to the kitchen. Fortunately, he had no problem operating on four legs instead of the usual two.

On his way downstairs he heard a noise and his ears perked up. The Cloak of Levitation hovered at the top of the stairs. It had no face but its collar was tilted, watching the feline with curiosity.

“Mrew.”

The cloak flew down to him to prod the cat, who tried to evade it. Tony made a disgruntled sound and fended off the fabric with his paw.

He had already noticed from Stephen’s interactions that the Cloak of Levitation showed little understanding for personal space. And apparently, it wasn’t yet quite sure what to make of this cat. If it even recognized him as Tony or perhaps thought this was a new pet.

Tony continued on his way, with the cloak following him. Tony glanced over his shoulder at it but didn’t object.

In the kitchen, he faced a new challenge: doors. More specifically, cabinet doors.

Tony jumped onto the counter and tried to get into the upper cabinet that he knew stored toast. He had to stand on his hind legs, and reach up with his whole body to try and open the cabinet door.

It turned out to be rather difficult.

He barely kept his balance  and pushed his paw into the narrow gap to swing the door open. It opened a little – and fell back close immediately.

The cat huffed in annoyance.

His gaze fell on the coffee maker. He needed one of those drinks. However, the mugs were also stored in one of the upper kitchen cupboards.So he was back to the same problem there.

Suddenly he understood why cats liked to push things off counters. He was very tempted to do the same with a nearby vase; out of sheer frustration.

That was when the cloak – which so far had simply watched him; or whatever it was that it did, hovering in the middle of the room – came over to him and opened the cabinet Tony had failed to pry open.

The cat meowed a thanks.

Now, jumping up into the upper cabinets was complicated by the fact that the compartments down low were fully packed. Tony stood on his hind legs and stretched up again to analyze his options; but before he could even try to start something, the cloak had taken out the bag of toast and set it down next to Tony.

That gave Tony an idea and sure enough, after some trial and error in communication, Tony had a decent sandwich and coffee in front of him shortly afterwards.

Tony took back any quip he ever threw at the cloak; that thing was a saint.

He ate his sandwich with relish. The texture felt weird in his tiny mouth. It wasn’t really made for this kind of food. But it tasted passable enough that he wasn't bothered by it.

The Cloak of Levitation stayed at his side, fascinatedly studying him. With a corner of its fabric it petted the cat’s head, and this time Tony let it happen; only his ears flicked, irritated more by the gesture than the actual action.

He heard voices approaching. It was a conversation between two sorcerers who entered the kitchen and Tony looked up. He did know apprentices came to the Sanctum for their studies or to do whatever it was magic people did around here – so he wasn’t alarmed when he didn’t recognize their faces.

They, on the other hand, stopped right in their tracks when they saw a feline on the counter right in the middle of what seemed to be the Sorcerer Supreme’s lunch snack: open packets of cheese and ham, a glass of pickles and toast and butter.

The butter knife didn’t quite make it to the sink but was lying on the edge of the sink, turned so that the blade reached dangerously far over the edge of the counter and threatened to fall off at any moment.

They were also pretty sure coffee wasn’t supposed to be served in a cereal bowl.

Hovering next to all the chaos was the Cloak of Levitation, who did nothing to prevent the cat from eating food that wasn’t for felines.

“Hey!” One of the sorcerers shouted sharply, and that triggered something in Tony’s cat brain.

He froze for a second. Then he took what was left of the sandwich in his mouth and bolted. He jumped on the floor and zipped right through the sorcerer’s feet. They tried to catch him but Tony was way faster, dodging their grip.

He ran down the hallway and through an ajar door. The room was unoccupied by people; Tony went under the couch anyway. Only then did he stop and catch his breath.

His little heart was beating fast in his chest. It was a strange feeling: it hadn't been fear that had made him leave the kitchen. However, it still felt like a fight-or-flight reaction. He didn’t want anyone to come between him and his food.

It was very atypical of him – but then again, it was a weird day. So Tony let it slide.

He peaked from under the couch and found that no one had followed him. Not even the cloak, which was – honestly – a bummer. It had been very useful.

Tony turned around to continue his meal when he noticed a pair of eyes in the darkness back under the couch.

They glowed yellowish with an eerie intensity, piercing through the darkness. Focused on Tony they seemed to follow his every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. And they were way too large for any creature to fit under here.

The shadows clung to it like a shroud, an inky blackness that seemed to devour the faint light falling under the couch.

This wasn’t natural.

The hairs on the back of Tony's neck stood up and his instinct yelled: danger! He held back a hiss, but was ready to bunk off at the slightest sign of an attack.

The eyes didn’t come closer. They did glance at the rest of the sandwich though.

Cautiously, Tony stepped to the sandwich, not taking his eyes off whatever it was that lurked in the shadows. He pulled the top part of the bread off and pushed it towards the creature; the yellow eyes watching the movement. Then it opened its mouth and for a moment Tony saw sharp teeth and a long tongue.

Then the bread was gone and Tony heard a satisfied noise. The yellow eyes close and don’t open again. They were gone.

The shadows were still present.

Tony took the leftover sandwich and moved out from under the couch back into the light. The feeling of imminent danger was gone but he wasn’t taking any chances.

_______________________

It was already dark outside when Stephen leaned back and rolled his neck and shoulders. The research had taken him longer than anticipated, mostly because he was diligent and thorough.

“Tony,” he called over to the couch.

He got no reaction.

Maybe he had fallen asleep. Yet, when Stephen thought about it, he had never seen Tony be quiet for so long. Normally he was always talking, mumbling to himself, and sharing his thoughts half-aloud.

The sorcerer stood up and stepped around the couch. He saw the reason why it was so peaceful: the couch was empty; there was no cat in sight.

Stephen looked around. “Tony?”

Still, no answer.

“I swear to the Vishanti, if he walked through the wrong door and fell into a black hole, I will call pest control to get him out.”

He left the library and reached out mentally to the Sanctum to figure out where Tony was. He felt several presences in the building – not surprising, as apprentices often studied here. But all of them were gathered in groups; he couldn’t make out a single figure alone.

Worry spread through Stephen and he set off to search for Tony.

“Tony?”

_______________________

“Meow mreew.” [“Anyway, it has a base plate of pre-famulated amulite surmounted by a malleable logarithmic casing in such a way that the two spurving bearings were in a direct line with the panametric fan.”]

Tony elegantly dodged the hand that wanted to pet him. He didn’t want to be touched by someone he barely knew for an hour.

“I’m pretty sure it’s from another dimension,” one of the apprentices said about the cat that they had found in the Sanctum. “Maybe it came with Master Reese. He recently went to Ektra’vall. This cat is way too smart to be a regular feline.”

Tony turned his head towards the young man, who stared at him.

“He just winked at me!”

Tony laughed, which came out as some weird purring noise.

He had found this group of young wizards and their books in one of the study rooms. They probably should be doing some homework or whatever task they had been assigned. But as soon as they spotted the unfamiliar cat they had coaxed it onto the table.

Tony liked the attention, thrived under it even. He had lectured them about turbo encabulators; not that they understood a word he meowed. Still, they were delighted by the chatty cat and talked to him. The result was two different conversations going on.

At one point, one of the apprentices conjured a packet of string cheese out of thin air and fed it to the cat. Tony was pretty sure that Wong would get an aneurysm if he saw the food right next to the ancient-looking books – but that wasn’t Tony’s problem.

He was just a cat. It was liberating. There was no pressure; nobody knew it was him. There weren’t any expectations.

Tony humored the wizard kid who used a pen as bait for him to play. He pounced at the end of the pen with his paw. Being a cat helped his mind to stop running a mile a minute.

His ears perked up when he heard the door open and he spotted a speck of blue. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Shouldn’t you work on your evocation studies?”

The apprentices hadn’t noticed the Sorcerer Supreme approaching and his voice caught them by surprise. They winced and turned towards him to bow respectfully.

“We are working on it,” the boy that had fed Tony pointed at the scripts. It didn’t help their case that a) he still had the string cheese in his hands and b) the tabby cat was sitting on one of the books, washing its face by licking its paw and preening his face.

The feline seemed unperturbed, like a regular cat. But Tony couldn’t fool Stephen.

“Really?” Stephen raised his eyebrow. “Because it rather looks like you all got distracted by Tony.”

The apprentices exchanged glances, throwing their attention at that piece of information.

“The cat’s name is Tony?”

“Is that short for Plutonium?”

“Will he stay longer at the Sanctum?”

They were all talking excitedly to each other.

Stephen tilted his head. His eyes met Tony’s, who looked way too smug. He was clearly enjoying the situation. Well, at least one of them had fun.

“The cat will not stay. Go back to your studies. I expect them by tonight.”

“Master Doctor Strange, it is already night.”

Huh, Stephen hadn’t noticed.

“Then you better hurry up. Tony, come with me. I have a few spells for you.”

Tony yawned before jumping off the table to follow the sorcerer, while one of the apprentices gasped quietly. “Dude, Plutonium is totally the Sorcerer Supreme’s new familiar pet.”

Tony turned back to him and made a displeased sound. He was no pet of anyone.

Holding his head and tail high, he walked at Stephen’s side. The tall sorcerer made big steps and Tony had to hurry to keep up.

He didn’t like that.

From this new perspective, Stephen was freakishly tall.

“Good to see you’re still a menace bothering people.” There was a smile on Stephen’s lips.

“Mrew miaow.” [“It’s called being bored. It’s not like there’s anything better to do around here.”]

Back in the library, the pile of books on Stephen's desk seemed to have grown even more. Tony jumped onto it. An easy task; he had perfect control of his body by now.

From the higher ground, he looked expectantly at the sorcerer.

“I did some research on the relic. Although it is stored in the Sanctum Sanctorum, it is occasionally used for teaching purposes in Kamar-Taj to demonstrate the fusion of different types of magic from several dimensions. Therefore it’s not surprising that it showed unprompted activity … anyway, you should be back to normal in no time.”

Stephen called upon his magic and used it to draw glowing lines into the air. It was a delicate pattern that formed into a sphere. When it was finished, Stephen let it fly over the cat and with a snap of his fingers it burst into golden sparks that rained down onto the feline.

Tony looked at it in awe. It was beautiful. He lifted his paw to catch a sparkle. It felt cool and melted into his fur, like a snowflake.

He still was a cat afterwards. Judging by Stephen's face, this was not the desired result. He looked distraught and tired. But it was gone in a second; then the determination was back.

“Maybe if I adjust the parameter.” The sorcerer reopened a book. “When you consider the magical volume... and that the relic may have stored traces of extradimensional magic…" Stephen mumbled further explanations to himself.

Tony didn’t even understand half of it. He watched and waited.

Stephen tried a new spell. And then another.

Sighing, he dropped into the chair and ran his hand through his hair, avoiding looking at the cat.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t used to failure. “I will fix this. I promise.”

The ball of fur jumped onto his lap, letting out a high-pitched “Chirrup” to get his attention. Warm feline eyes met Stephen’s.

The sorcerer raised his hand to Tony and the cat headbutted it, prompting him to scratch the cat behind his ears. Contented, Tony leaned into the touch. He was purring soothingly as if he wanted to reassure Stephen everything was fine.

The sorcerer would have smiled at that sight if he wasn't so worried and disappointed in himself. He couldn’t let Tony down.

“I will go over everything one more time. Maybe I missed something.” That would be a first. Stephen was very accurate regarding research. He turned back to the books. Tony stayed on his lap, curled up.

_______________________

Stephen browsed every single script on the table but couldn’t find any mistakes. One of the spells should have worked.

He concluded that he needed more books. The answer was somewhere in the library. It always was.

Stephen stifled a yawn. Hours spent pouring over dense volumes had taken their toll, leaving his mind heavy and his eyes strained. His concentration had waned, and the words on the page blurred before his weary gaze.

But he had to pull through, for Tony’s sake.

Tony wasn’t a fan of magic. Understandably so. He had told Stephen about his encounter with the witch. Or at least parts of it.

Stephen was pretty sure he had downplayed it. From what he had heard, Stephen was still furious about the violation. What the witch had done to Tony was basically torture.

Tony only tolerated some magic because he liked Stephen. They took their relationship slow, step by step.

But now Stephen had screwed up and he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony hated him after this. Or at least wanted to take a break from the sorcerer and magic in general.

Stephen's eyes were unfocused in the distance, his thoughts drifting off. He didn’t realize it until something gently touched his beard.

When he looked down, he noticed Tony was watching him.

“Sorry,” Stephen muttered. “Go back to sleep.” He rolled his shoulders. The tension from the responsibility had settled in a knot between his shoulder blades that ached intensely. But it was no use; he had to pull himself together.

Tony tilted his head and then – as he came to a decision – he shook it. “Meow.”

“Not yet. But I’ll find the right spell.”

Apparently, that was not what Tony meant. He jumped off his lap and pawed at Stephen’s pants, motioning him to follow, meowing loudly.

"What is it?" Alarmed by the cat's sudden stubbornness, he followed him to the couch, where the engineer's clothes were still lying.

The cat hopped onto the cushions and patted them with his paw.

Stephen frowned, not sure if he understood correctly. “You want me to sit on it?”

“Mrew.”

“Why?”

Tony just stared at him and waited.

Stephen was too tired to argue and with a sigh he gave in. Tony was back in his lap as soon as the sorcerer sat down. He circled once to find a good spot before he moved into a perfect loaf, purring again.

Stephen petted the soft fur. “Now what?” he asked.

Tony blinked up at him with one eye.

“You want me to take a break?”

“Brrep.”

Stephen sighed again – this time because his body relaxed a bit. “Fine. Five minutes.”

It didn’t take a whole five minutes until the sorcerer's breathing became deep and even. His fingers moved slower and slower in Tony's fur until they finally stopped altogether; Stephen had fallen asleep.

Happy with that result, Tony closed his eyes as well.

_______________________

There was a noise on the other side of the couch that alerted Tony. He hadn’t heard anyone come in and decided to investigate.

He climbed onto the armrest and stared at the table Stephen had occupied. What he saw should have surprised him, but somehow it didn’t.

A ghost version of Stephen hovered in the air – cross-legged - browsing the books. The books seemed to be regular books and not ghost books; at least they weren’t transparent.

Ghost-Stephen turned a page and that had to be the noise that Tony had heard.

Tony knew about astral projecting; he had seen it before when Stephen's body looked like he had fallen asleep meditating. But he had never caught a glimpse of the sorcerer’s astral ghost version.

“Mreewp.” [“You know that’s called cheating.”]

Ghost-Stephen looked up, surprised, when he saw that Tony was addressing him. “You can see me?”

“Mroow.” [“I’m looking at you, ain’t I?”]

“Huh.” Stephen put his book down and floated over to the feline. “That’s interesting. We assumed cats to be able to perceive several planes, but we never had proof.”

“Groow mrem.” [“That’s great for you. Can we go back and focus on the problem at hand: getting me back?”]

“Yes, pardon.”

“Thank you, I-…” Tony stopped mid-sentence, staring at Stephen in that weird non-blinking way. “You understand what I’m saying?”

Stephen paused as well, realizing that – yes, he did. “It appears so. It must be because I’m currently in the astral dimension.”

“You mean ghost town?” Unimpressed, Tony jumped onto the floor and then walked over to the table with the books. There he first got on the chair and then onto the table. Truth be told, he was relieved to finally have a normal conversation. One where both sides knew what the other said.

“You’re still cheating on the taking a break part,” he remarked.

“Are you complaining I’m trying to find a solution to your problem?” Stephen floats around the table. He reached out to pet Tony and the cat leaned in the surprisingly solid touch.

“I didn’t say that,” he murmured. “Just pointing out a fact.”

“Mhm.” The sorcerer didn’t sound convinced. He continued to give back scratches all the way to that sweet spot right before the tail.

The cat got low but stretched his butt upwards. Purring louder than ever, he then flopped onto the side and was about to stick his belly out at Stephen when he realized what he was doing. Scowling, he pulled himself back up, ignoring Stephen's smug smile.

“That’s definitely some kind of cheating.”

“We had a lot of cats on the farm I grew up on.”

Stephen rarely talked about his childhood. Tony mostly knew the basics. Therefore he absorbed these kinds of snippets of information, adding them together like a big puzzle. There were still many gaps.

“More volunteers for your Hogwarts transmutation class?” He tried to dig deeper.

Stephen was quick to correct him. “You did not transmute. You shapeshifted.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Everything but the result. It’s a completely different course of action. You see, with shapeshifting a person shifts into a different living being. In most cases into a different species; although not always. While during a transmutation it changes the substance – regardless if it’s a living being or a objec-…” Stephen paused. His face told Tony an idea had struck him.

And he was right.

“Metamorphosis… I haven’t thought about metamorphosis. Normally, it wouldn’t be relevant, but since the source of magic lies in a relic, it’s actually quite possible.” He floated over to the shelves, looking for a specific book.

Tony stayed on the table, watching him. “Do you know how to reverse it?”

“Oh yes, it’s rather easy – if you know what you’re looking for. Ah, there it is…” Stephen thumbed through the book until he found what he was looking for. "Metamorphosis explains how you were able to have such good control over your new form straight away. Without any familiarization phase. And why there are some striking matching features between your forms.” Especially the facial hair and eye color.

Stephen returned to the desk.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I was ready five hours ago.”

Stephen’s face fell, sobered up, and the guilt was back. He mumbled another apology.

Tony felt awful for mentioning it; being a cat hadn’t been that bad. Even if it hadn't been voluntary.

Ghost-Stephen disappeared into thin air and a second later human-Stephen stood up. Some magic was safer to perform when he was on this plane.

He stepped to the cat, who was waiting for yet another attempt. Only this time, he actually felt something.

The magic wrapping around him was bright and he had to close his eyes for a second. It felt like he was stretching after sitting in the same pose for a long time. His joints were cracking like he had slept uncomfortably.

It didn’t hurt, rather it felt right.

Then it was gone and Tony opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the table, but now as a human again. The air suddenly felt more chilly.

Oh yeah, his clothes were still on the couch.

And Tony was naked as on the day he was born.

He noticed the dark blush spreading on Stephen’s face. They hadn’t reached that stage of their relationship yet, but Tony didn’t mind showing off. Plus, it was nice to know that his body still got that kind of reaction.

Stephen realized he was staring and cleared his throat, averting his eyes. “You should…” He trailed off, vaguely gesturing towards the pile of clothes.

Tony slid off the table. “Don’t play coy. This is what you get.”

His words made Stephen blush even more. Tony hadn’t taken his partner to be this shy. Somehow it was endearing.

He grabbed his pants. “Well, it’s good to be back.” He pulled his pants over his butt, when suddenly there was something in the way. Confused, he turned his head – and found a cat tail attached to him. Human-sized, very fluffy and in black and brown.

It twitched, nervously.

“Stephen…” He looked at the sorcerer, demanding answers.

“There might have been a slight mishap.” Stephen’s voice was hoarse and not in the slightest apologetic. He was back to watching Tony. Watching the top of his head in particular, Tony noticed.

With one hand still holding his pants in place, Tony reached up. He flinched when he touched fluffy ears. Feline ears.

Stephen licked his lips. He wasn’t blushing because he was shy. It was because he was very much turned on by the unexpected turn of events. But he didn’t dare to say anything since he wasn’t sure how Tony would react to yet another magic-caused alteration.

Only when he heard a chuckle escaping Tony’s lips, did the tension leave him.

Tony found the situation absurd. He had had a long day and honestly, he was just glad to have his thumbs back. “I hope you have some alternative clothes for me. Otherwise, I have to go naked from the waist down and possibly traumatize Wong for life.”

___________

Tony's secret code to identify himself to Jarvis: -y0u kn0w wh0 1 am-

[ms-scarletwings]

Irken senses, and other ponderings

You know, every time I start to wonder if I’ve finally run out of things to coherently say on the whole “speculating about irken biology” matter, a whole something more is induced to hatch out of the dehydrated floam inside my skull. Between you and me, I think the eggs are triggered by ironic timing.

Anywho, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the world hypothetically through Irken eyes, and other sensory organs. Think I’ll go down them piece by piece, and to follow the pattern I’ve kept through my other Irken brain dumps, I will be drawing a huge amount of inspiration from real life arthropods. Yes, I’m very aware that realistically, any resemblance to earth insects would be coincidental from an alien species, and there’s plenty of room to make up whatever somewhat plausible explanation you can for any faucet of their anatomy. Personally, I like to run from the convergent evolution angle, since I find it no less grounded, full of potential connections the show itself all but begs me to draw, and just plain fun. Let’s get into it.

Also like towards the end there’s a whole section on the hypothetical edibility of Irkens because why not

Prelude: If you want to hear a little more behind my theory about the Irken diet revolving around sugar and a small portion of minerals, you can zip onto this analysis I did, in which I touch on some ideas of mine regarding the composition of Irken skin, their reaction to meat, etc. that works from the assumption that Irkens evolved out of an arthropod-like ancestor. Not necessary to get the gist of this one, but it is background context behind my thought process.

Sight

The Irken oculus is perhaps the most striking feature of the species, very much resembling those tiny crawling things they have been inspired by; however, it’s tougher to say exactly how far the similarity of their insides go. The eyes of most arthropods are in fact along the more simple branches of the evolutionary tree. We know that Irkens are not likely to possess compound eyes, like those found in flies and most other insects, because compound eyes are specialized for wide FOV ranges at the sacrifice of visual resolution quality. Instead, I see a much closer match to a fascinating exception or two found in Earth’s arachnids.

While most of them have utterly piss-poor vision, the hunting styles of jumping spiders necessitated a great deal of further specialization of the organs for depth perception, color differentiation, and sharp images. These are the purpose of those two huge shiners at the front (the other 6 boosting their range for detecting blurry peripheral movement and threats), and these are what bring their effective vision on a level much closer to that of familiar binocular mammals than their own six legged prey. Now I really think we are working with the base of what Irken peepers likely developed out of. One of the ways they have really diverged off is in the fact that while jumping spiders can only move their retinas, irkens seem as though they are able to move the lens of the eye themselves- or at the very least, Zim does, else the false pupils in his disguise contacts would not behave quite so convincingly. To speak about the lenses themselves, their eyes are not dry and exposed like most arthropods, speaking to a vulnerable sensitivity. They clearly have blinking eyelids, shed tears, and Zim even complains about the “scratchy” feeling of getting used to that part of his kid disguise.

(Funny sidenote: I’m like 90% sure that Zim did not have those contact lenses designed correctly for himself. Usually, if contacts feel that uncomfortable and keep falling off of the eye as easily as his do, it’s a sign of them being poorly fitted. This could be another symptom of his outdated/lower quality invader tech.)

Not only do Irkens have an assumed base vision resolution that seems more or less on par with human beings, but Invader elites are fitted with ocular implants that grant them a significantly greater advantage in this realm. We don’t know to a certainty how well improved an Irken soldier’s vision is, but Zim was confidently able, within seconds and under pressure, to pick out the area of town he lived in from what was miles away under night hours.

On the topic of night vision, I have a hunch that even without the cybernetics, these guys are adapted to see much better than we in dim to dark environments as well. Most of the early part of their life cycle is lived out in subterranean crèches. On the surface, daytime Irk is cast in a sunset red atmosphere. Oddly, a massive portion of their fashion and architectural aesthetics show a preference for these dark, warmer tones. Ruby is far and away the most common eye color in their kind. All of these facts suggest that warm-spectrum hues and pigments were incredibly common in the homeworld’s history, to point of indicating something about a cultural attraction to them- kind of like how humans put the color blue all over so much corporate branding and elsewhere. Zim’s favorite color has also been revealed to be purple. Most of all, given what I’ve seen of Irk’s, Blorch’s, and Devastis’s surface skies, AND Zim’s reaction to staring directly at the sun for more than a few seconds, I’m assuming that most Irkens are wholly unfamiliar with living in an environment as brightly lit as midday Earth.

I do think Irken eyes “glow” in the dark, but not in the emitting sense. Just more in the reflective one. This they would owe to a well developed tapetum lucidum, as seen in cats and deer and pretty much any animal to give off an eerie eye shine under the right lighting. To point back to arachnids, wolf spiders are speedy nocturnal murder machines with highly developed tapetum lucida, in their secondary eyes, at least. What I love the most about that is it makes it very easy to tell if you’re looking at a mother spider because her babies will give off the same eyeshine if you take a pic of one with the flash on.

Additionally, I won’t forget that sleep is no longer a necessity for our alien subjects. This alone gives them a major edge over any dinural race such as humanity. While Zim has his appearances to keep up during the day, the nighttime on Earth is actually when he is allowed the most free rein to work on his endeavors uninterrupted.

Sound

Ah, so this is the part where I rattle off the common theories we’ve collectively formed about Irken antennae as the replacement for an external ear, eh? Yes, but actually no…. jokes aside, it’s just no. I’ll get to the deal with antennae, but as you might imagine, hearing ability also varies all over the place in the insect world.

It is true that antennae play a large role in the hearing of some critters, such as mosquitoes, whose males use them to pick out the high frequency wing beats of nearby females in a swarm. Crickets, on the other hand, use sensory organs on their legs tuned to much lower sound ranges. There’s no one way to evolutionarily put together a sort-of ear, as well proven by the sheer amount of times it convergently happened in bugs and in how many creative ways.

They literally be designing themselves like me playing around in spore. If we’re not talking about that mosquito or honeybee example, then what we are referring to as an ear and most hearing insects is going to be an external tympanic organ. Most people who have passed high school biology would be able to recognize a visible tympanum in frogs- that circular thing right behind the eyes in most species, and understand it as their version of an ear drum. Many bugs’ tympanums are likewise thin chitinous membranes situated… potentially just about anywhere on the body (again, see above). This is what I think Irkens use as a primary hearing organ, in his case, probably situated on their heads in addition to the feelers. The latter organs I think would also be sensitive to general vibrations and subtler environmental cues, like wind direction and pressure changes, but the bulk of their hearing would be owed to the tympanum.

As far as the quality of their hearing, well, there’s not any sign it differs much from the human experience. Like us, they communicate through verbal language, and the existence of the “Dancing Arcade Game (but for aliens)” confirms at least a similar cultural propensity for music as an entertainment form. Zim is an outlier for the fact that he seems genuinely a little hard of hearing next to his kin, screaming as naturally as he talks and repeatedly mishearing (if hearing at all) people who are speaking directly at him. It’s clear something’s up with his hearing, but there’s no clear answer what and why. At first I was tempted to suggest something about sound passing much differently through the medium of earth’s atmosphere (kind of like how noise on Mars would sound muffled to us), but neither Tak nor Skoodge seemed to pick up the problem when they arrived. It really could be as simple as some kind of birth defect, or even glitches in how his corrupted PAK is processing the inputs it receives. Like many others, I want to imagine that his wig could be interfering too, since it covers the whole top portion of his head; as well, I noticed he has more of those incidents with it on than not.

Smell

Alrighty, NOW we can round back to focusing on the antennae, because this is actually the main thing our insects fine tuned theirs for. And when I say fine tuned- I mean fine tuned. Blood suckers that find their prey through the CO2 of their breath, flies that can pick up on potential food sources from miles away; In the land of the little, scent is everything. Beyond it being their main tool for exploring the environment for what to eat and what to avoid, chemical messages are the backbone of bug-to-bug communication. Pheromones are the divining rod of lonely spiders looking for a mate. They are the bugle of yellow jackets when rallying the nest to attack a threat, and they are the signals that govern about every single action an ant takes from adulthood until death. Obviously, Irkens are much more sight & hearing dependent than these comparisons, but they still have much more bodily specialization dedicated to this sense than we can relate to. For one, they are fastidiously hygienic. Like, “the care-bots from that really creepy episode of the Buzz lightyear cartoon” hygienic. We have yet to see any livable surface of Irk that is not sky to underground terraformed over in all-consuming metal infrastructure. There’s less than no sign of visible life besides the Irkens; ffs, there’s not even soil in sight. Not on Devastis, either. The Organic Sweep sounds like such a nice and pretty euphemism in the face of the actual horror of Blorch’s fate, and all to spare the boots of their military from touching even a speck of “unsavory alien filth”. They live in such a controlled and purified environment that I can’t even imagine the absolute assault on the senses Zim’s every day on our barbaric ball of dirt is. Over and over again he gives off the impression that the constant stink of this place is in fact his chief complaint about living among us. The majority of insults he throws toward humans relate to how they smell or the fact that he finds them “filthy”. We’re flat out nasty to him and I don’t blame him. Even relative to other animals, humans are especially RANK due to the combination of sweat, oils, and bacteria that coat our skin.

And believe it or not, I do think Irkens are in a position to talk shit in this regard. Zim is a really sweaty boi; however, I posed an idea back in that write up about Irken skin before- to summarize- that his kind maintain remarkably sterile cuticles due to the presence of a toxic chemical in their skin. This, I said then, could have been the key to Zim’s lice repelling trait, but I wasn’t so specific at the time about more than that. I got the idea from a group of millipedes that, when disturbed, can secrete hydrogen cyanide as a deterrent to predators. I like to imagine that Irkens can do a similar thing via sweating, not to thermoregulate like us, but as a stress response. It would at least explain why Zim seems like a very nervous sweater. Fun fact if you didn’t know, cyanide’s smell is similar to almonds.

I’m deadass telling you I think Irkens just smell like almond extract. Do with that what you will.

Touch

So, in writing this whole whatever it be, this part was the trickiest to come up with any productive analysis on. I’ve already guessed at what I think Irken skin feels most like (spoiler: hairless caterpillars) in the analysis I referenced up top. Zim being able to pass himself off as a human under the examination of the Skool nurse points to an average body temperature somewhere around our own. What I did find interesting while rewatching the series though was the sheer amount of pain tolerance on these invaders, except in one way. Can I extrapolate this fortitude to Irkens universally? Probably not! Zim is a member of the most elite of the most highly trained members of Irk’s military. I wouldn’t take what a seasoned veteran can handle and assume that’s the human floor in a nutshell, but our invaders CAN tell us quite a bit about their ceiling… starting with the fact that these bastards are ridiculously heat resistant. Irkens are a durable race broadly, but their reactions to extreme temperatures strike me as jaw-droppingly underwhelming, if anything.

Irkens DON’T like being engulfed in flames. It’s still a painful experience to them, but seemingly the kind they can pretty much walk off as soon as it’s over. Through explosions and fire we have seen Zim (and Skoodge) survive in one piece. We’ve seen The Massive take a whole dip into a burning star with no ill effects to the crew within. Most amazing to me was the time in Battle of the Planets when Zim willingly piloted Mars into grazing by the Sun at close range while trying to evade Dib. Totally exposed driver’s seat and he was no worse for wear after this.

Further in the comics we see this touched on in the Zimvoid arc. Zib’s favorite method of torturing the Zims under his training program was to torch them at random for sadistic amusement. Quite interestingly, though, Number 2 implies that their bodies do actually adapt to this treatment over time! Theoretically, Zims further along in the program have become all but invulnerable to fire entirely.

On the other hand, one of the truly most painful things Zim has been shown to experience is to have his skin chemically burned. It’s a strange sort of irony that Earth’s water would prove to be an incapacitating force to them in place of any inferno. He’ll smash his skull into the Voot’s windshield with enough force to pop out an eyeball and it’s whatever. Plenty of other things hurt, but he can power through. You turn a shaken can of soda or a bottle of bbq sauce on him and he’s just left screaming on the ground or screaming and running away. Whatever brutal sort of training he had to go through off world, it didn’t prepare him for this.

Taste

The perceptive side of this I think may not be too hard to figure out. Irken food, as alien as its actual composition could be, has been shown to be heavily analogous to human junk food. I hesitate to call what Irkens are scarfing down “meals” in the proper sense, because I’ve noticed that neither Zim nor his kin intrinsically understand the concept. When he’s trying to blend in as a human being, he puts a LOT of bizarre effort into convincing us that he, just like you inferior creatures, TOTALLY eats “food” on a regular basis like a normal person. When Irkens eat their own products, it’s all and only “snacks”. What follows is the conclusion that their eating habits are not structured into any schedule and that Irkens instead graze throughout the day as they please- and even possibly that eating altogether is more a recreation to them, instead of a necessary function to sustain life. Some fans have speculated that the PAK could provide an Irken with all of the necessary energy to survive absent of nutrition. I kind of want to contest this, given that caloric energy is only one purpose of taking in food… but it’s definitely the most immediate one. Nonetheless, they still eat constantly on screen and it all has to be going somewhere. Whether they need it or not, they still readily digest snacks (and presumably use those chemical building blocks to regenerate tissue damage) with a terrifying metabolic efficiency. Assuming that the resemblance of their snack foods and our leisure treats are not purely coincidental, one gathers that sweetness is the largest dimension of Irken cuisine. They are drawn most enthusiastically to carb-dense synthetic, plant, and possibly fungal matter in the same way that the human brain lights up at the prospect of fat and sugar-loaded meals. The flexible tongues of Irkens to me also resemble the nectar catching, segmented mouthparts of some bees. I would be willing to bet that they can taste salt, but jury’s out if it is something they crave, like us, or are repulsed by, like ants. That would have to come down to the scarcity (or not) of the resource on their home planet and whether or not desiccation was a serious threat in their natural history. In other regards, Zim shows strong negative reactions to most Earth foods, if not physically, than in his expressions. They definitely have powerful vulnerabilities to many human ingredients, and so are very sensitive to the presence of these toxins. I can’t imagine acidic or bitter substances are at all pleasant to them.

Now comes the much more interesting question I’ve thought way too long and hard about in the shower a time or two. Knowing that Irkens are likely a herbivorous breed, ergo, thankfully would have no interest in the consumption of the human race… what about the vise versa??? I don’t just want to know what they taste, but what would they taste like?

So, you’ve decided to mix it up for the thanksgiving dinner and forgo the same boring old bird for an Irken you have vanquished (via what I can only imagine was a freaking miracle of luck). What should you come to expect? Most importantly and I must emphasize this, the secret to preparing their meat is the same as Tolkien dwarves, you have to skin them before anything else. The separation of edible tissues from the cuticle is necessary to avoid ingesting the defensive toxins it contains. Even if the concentration is not enough to provide a danger to you, it could end up contributing an unpleasant, bitter flavor to the final product.

That done, discard the head and digestive organs. True as it may be that Irkens are wholly free of parasites, with a chance that the viscera could be edible, it’s not likely to taste that great and besides, do you really want to take chances with exposing yourself to an entirely foreign gut biome you have no immune adaptations to? And don’t even think about the brain- I don’t care how rare the infection rates are, alien prions are a big no. If you happen to run into any cybernetic implants during the cleaning, however, set them aside! They could be worth a small fortune in the right circles. But, for the purpose of eating we’re really concerned with the muscle tissues, a delicate white meat with a texture similar to fresh crab. The bones need not be wasted, and are fine to leave in, or can be boiled on their own to make a flavorful stock which can be added to soups or a delightful gravy. A surprisingly practical use of Irken bone could also be in the compost bin, being rich in chitosan and other powerful garden fertilizers. The flesh can do well fried, or roasted to a crispy exterior. The oven rule is the same as chicken, low and slow, to prevent drying out. Don’t be afraid to experiment with the gravy idea or marinades. The flavor profile of the meat itself would be utterly unique from what most of us are used to, comparable to a nutty crayfish. Savory, a bit of a sweetness, and a mineral hint that pairs quite well with mushrooms or rice.

I can’t recommend serving this to any guests with shellfish allergies in good conscience. If they insist, do so in caution and with knowledge of the risk of cross reactivity.

And there you have …. certainly a thing I did write and queue up for y’all!

[v3nusxsky]

So I recently started watching Criminal Minds and ofcourse I’m head over heels for miss Prentiss so I was wondering if I could request a Emily Prentiss x f!reader where Emily is dom and is brat taming reader because reader enjoys being a brat sometimes? <3

Thank you and hope you have a wonderful day <3

Little brat 18+

*Authors note~ don't we all need an Emily to train us? A daddy fully capable of handling our bratty behaviour?*

Trigger warnings~  daddy kink! Brat r dom em thigh riding strap over stim? Toys restraints degrading? Praise

Prompt~see ask*^^^^

Truthfully, you didn't know why you began to brat against Emily, after all you knew very will you'd be swiftly put into your place but you still did it anyway. The BAU were stranded in Vegas for another night due to the jet being loaned to another unit for the day. And of course the team decided to go out and celebrate the success of another Unsub off the streets. But you had well and truly wound Emily up.

It started with simple touches or whispered words to rile her up but you knew you fucked up when Emily tapped two fingers to the side of her thigh. Strike two had been given and you knew it wouldn't take much else to earn some of her attention. You were sat on Emily's lap just bantering back and forth with JJ while you innocently shifted your hips every now and then to the point you were now smearing your damp panties all over her bare thigh. That was the final straw for Emily, with a hushed whisper she informed you that you'd be retiring for the night, it wasn't a strike but it was a sure sign the raven haired women was losing her composure and control.

You both stumbled your way to the hotel room as lips pressed against one another fighting for control. Yours won surprisingly which stunned the older woman enough for you to shove her into the dresser chair. A little whine of surprise was all Emily offered before she became distracted by you removing your tight little dress. That left you in your maroon lace set that complimented your body perfectly. "Sit back daddy" you murmured, your bratty nature wiling her to defy the demand. Emily bit her lip before playing into your game.

"Put your hands on the arm chair" you demanded slightly giddy that she was doing as you told her to, a power you'd never felt before. Emily slowly placed her arms on the sides of the chair, watching as you raked your eyes over her body. "Now open your legs" you purred. Emily did as she was told while complaining, "you Angel are not the-" you cut her off with the next command, "not too much."

Only when you had her spread her legs to to a point where you were happy that her clothed cunt was on display did you allow yourself to admire your handy work. "Like this angel?" Emily teased watching your bratty brain try to work out her angle, "are you satisfied sweetheart?" You couldn't help but reply losing all control of your dominant side, "yes, I like that very much" you purred watching as your lover got up from her seat and began to dig through the bags to find what she wanted. As soon as you caught sight of the rope you knew one thing. You were fucked.

"Now pet, I don't appreciate this faux dominance you seem to think you can display. You aren't in control here, just a pathetic little bratty baby for daddy aren't you?" She murmured approaching you which caused you to step backwards until you fell back against the bed, providing her with the perfect opportunity to bind your limbs. "Such a precious doll, all tied up for daddy" she teased, loving that you were now nothing but a bratty sub for her to use.

You knew Emily didn't take well to your bratty nature, always wanting to train you into the perfect little submissive for her. The challenge of that provides a thrill like no other. That is how you ended up bound to the bed on full display as she circled you, as naked as the day she was born, like a hunter hunting it's prey. The vibrator tied into the perfect position, your clit being abused by vibrations time after time until you were hanging on the edge of bliss, only for Emily to use her remote and shut the toy off.

"Pet, you are such a mess for me. Where's this attitude gone hmm? All the nerve you had to tease daddy all day, it's all gone now hmm?" She teased watching you squirm whimpering against Emily's panties that had been lovingly shoved into your pretty mouth. "No? Still gonna fight daddy? Shame! I was going to let you cum darling" she murmured before coming to straddle your thigh, "you cum and I swear to god angel you won't be able to sit for a week" she all but growled before dragging her drenched cunt up and down the length of your thigh as the vibrations started back up.

You practically howled around her makeshift gag as your climax was ripped away from you once more, the sight of your lover rutting against your tensed thigh driving you absolutely insane with your need. "Poor pet" she panted out, "oh fuck gonna cum" she mewled as her hips moved in less precise movements. By the time Emily had rode out her high you had droll dripping from your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you let out muffled whimpers.

Emily took some pitty on you and removed the panties, you immediately blurred out a string of whimpered apologises, "mmm sorry daddy, mm so sorry I'm daddy's, daddy's girl. Please daddy m sorry use me daddy." Your whines of need truly showing Emily how sorry you were. "Mph daddy daddy" you whimpered as she removed the vibe, "shhh darling, daddy's gonna take really good care of her sweet girl, my good girl hmm?"

You dripping folds had never felt so sensitive so when you felt Emily slip her girthy strap on into your cunt you had to bite back a scream. "Oh fuck daddy" you whined as she began to bottom you out with each thrust. "Daddy please please wan cum for you" you mewled knowing you couldn't be edged another time without what felt like dying. "Cum angel" was all Emily offered as she brought her hand down to your sensitive bud.

You came with a loud cry a Emily fucked you through the pleasure. You swore you saw stars before it went black. Emily couldn't help the smirk that found her lips as she saw you'd been fucked so well that you'd passed out. She made sure to clean up your sensitive body before cradling you in her arms allowing your body to come back to life in its own time.

"Hi Angel" Emily teased causing a scarlet red blush to adorn your cheeks. "I'm sorry daddy I don't know what happened" you yawned and subconsciously snuggled closer to your lovers warmth. "It's okay sweetheart you did so good for daddy. Do you need anything or would you like to sleep? After all your my sleepy girl hmm?" You carefully weighed up the options before opting for some sleep in her arms.

Word count~ 1237

Tag list~ @lilfartbox1 @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes