#peak white-person-with-blue-eyes ass stare

[amiharana]

finished the dragon’s tears quest last night

#YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT TO EM 🤝 #i said this to sen but they gave her the CRAZIEST ass eyeballs i’ve ever seen 😭😭😭 #peak white-person-with-blue-eyes ass stare #she’s a v pretty dragon tho :> #i previously mentioned that this was gna be a spoiler free blog. i’m sorry. i lied #loz #totk #loz totk #tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #loz tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom spoilers #amihan's shitposts

[intoanotherworld23]

Loving You Is A Ride

Pairing: Reader x Luke Collins (Scott Eastwood)

Warnings: None

Length: 2902 words

Summary: After getting your heart broken a family friend let’s you stay with them for a while, and you swear off of love. That is until you meet a handsome and charming cowboy named Luke Collins

Alright I was totally inspired by @cevansbaby-dove and @cutedisneygrl to write this since they posted about him! It’s unfortunate there not more fanfiction about this man cause he is just so gorgeous, and I’ve been obsessed with him for a very long time. I hope you all enjoy! Thank you guys so much! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

It's Friday night here at the local bar, and it's already packed full of people. Most of them wearing cowboy hats and girls wearing revealing outfits hoping to take someone home. If you weren't behind this bar you'd be one of those women.

Not that you were the kind of girl to do stuff like that, but your heart was covered in ice at this point. The last thing you wanted to feel was some type of emotion. It was like you had this wall around you, and you refused to let anyone break it down.

Your fiancé had been cheating on you, and you literally caught him in bed with another woman. Next thing you know you saw red and it ended with him getting a black eye and a couple scratches on his face and arms.

Of course you kicked his ass out of the apartment you two shared since it was in your name. Drinking away your sorrows as you wallowed in self pity. Ignoring every phone call and text you were receiving not in the mood to talk to people.

Things started to get so bad you literally locked yourself in your room barely leaving your bed as you laid there in the dark. Barely eating since your body was only craving something that could help numb the pain. Your mother came over and was shocked by what she walked into. She knew something had to be done to get you out of this funk.

Calling up a family friend telling her you needed to get away for the summer. Offering you a job to help her at the bar she owned, and a free place to stay at hers. You weren't going to pass up so you packed a lot of stuff and made yourself at home.

Telling her everything that happened, and she could tell you were hurting. Cassandra was the type of person that would help you out with anything, and do everything she could to make you feel better. Hoping that you working at the bar you would meet someone special with her blessing of course.

The music was blaring as you found yourself having to keep wiping down the counter top and refilling drinks. A couple young men attempting to flirt with you only to shot down none of them peaking your interest. Except one.

Feeling eyes staring at you almost as if he were zoning out. Looking behind you to make sure there wasn't anybody else he was looking at. His eyes still focused on you as you stood there awkwardly wondering if something was wrong with him.

As he was staring you took that time to really look at him. Noticing how faded his light blue flannel shirt was meaning he's either had it for a long time or it was cheap. It was loosely fitted around his thick arms which looked bigger than your head. His aura was just screaming cowboy even though he wasn't in uniform like everybody else.

"You alright there buddy?" Asking him as he snapped out of his day dreaming letting out a dry cough.

"Oh yeah sorry my brain just kind of stopped." Walking up to the bar as he looked away.

"Do that a lot?" You quipped at him making him crack a smile.

"Only when I'm in the presence of someone gorgeous." Showing off his straight white teeth making you roll your eyes. Here we go again.

"Wow I've never heard that one before." Your tone dripping with sarcasm but that just made him smile harder. "You must use that one a lot."

"Actually I've never really used that on a woman before." That was very doubtful giving how smooth he spoke it.

The man was incredibly handsome and you found yourself slightly drooling over him. His face was sweet and kind, like there was something warm there.

This man seemed like he had stories to tell and you found yourself wanting to know more about it even though you didn't know his name.

His dazzling blue eyes were drinking you in as you kept causally working but still focused on him. Feeling his eyes on you the whole time as you tried not to stumble or drop something. His eyes dropped down to your chest for a minute before snapping back up making sure he didn't get caught creeping.

"What's your name?" He raised an eyebrow at you leaning against the counter.

"Y/N." Flipping a rag over your shoulder as you placed a hand on your hip. "You got a name?"

"The names Luke Collins." You swear you've heard that name before.

"Your a bull rider aren't you?" Luke awkwardly coughing being caught.

"Yeah I am."

"I figured you were."

"How'd you figure that out anyway?" Looking around the bar waving your hand around to all the men and women in cowboy hats and boots making him laugh.

"This bar is filled with amateur bull riders I think I know the signs." You honestly didn't really know if these men were, but you just assumed since there was a rodeo arena just up the road.

"You got me there." He chuckled feeling sheepish suddenly around you.

"What made you get into riding?"

"Uh just something I wanted to do." He was getting a little uncomfortable.

"Was your father a bull rider or something?"

For a minute his smile faded away as he looked deep in thought. Part of you felt bad for being so pushy about it, but it was too late now to take it back. His eyes focused on the sticky counter top as his jaw clenched picturing his father that last night he was bull riding.

It's been so long since Luke has talked about this or even mentioned his father. It was still a sensitive subject for him, and even after all these years he still never got over him. No matter how hard he tried to let it go he simply couldn't loosen that grip he had.

"My father was a rider as well." Looking up at you to see your eyes staring at him now hearing that crack in his voice. "He died when I was thirteen years old."

"The bull threw him down on his head and he never recovered." He continued on as you nodded along feeling complete sympathy for him. "I wanted to continue his legacy."

Luke was trying to control his breathing not feeling like crying in a bar full of people. Especially not in front of you otherwise he would die of humiliation. Just like you he sometimes would bottle things up so much until he would explode.

He seemed so genuinely nice and down to earth. Feeling your whole being gravitating towards him, but knowing to still keep your hands up maintaining that distance. The last thing you wanted to happen was to get too close to this guy only to get your heart broken and stomped on.

"I'm so sorry." Looking down to see your hands gripped a towel so hard you felt your skin would burst. "It was wrong of me to ask."

"Are you kidding me?" He half heartedly chuckled making you look back up at him. "I'm glad someone asked instead of just assuming my story."

"Well I think it's incredibly sweet you are doing it for him." Smiling at him Luke returning it showing off his pearly white teeth.

For some reason you felt guilty flirting with him like this even though you were single, but your mind couldn't wrap around that just yet. Maybe this was too soon to be thinking about being with someone else.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you helped other patrons in the bar. Like stayed there waiting for you to finish which completely surprised you. Figuring he'd waltz off to find some pretty girl or his fellow riders to chat with.

"So you got someone waiting for you at home Luke." He awkwardly laughed scratching the back of his neck.

"Nope I don't." Quirking an eyebrow at him feeling like he was lying.

"I find that hard to believe." There was no way a man like him didn't have some gorgeous woman wrapped around his arm. "I bet she's gorgeous and just perfect."

"Well if you meet this woman can you tell me." He joked back making you roll your eyes at him.

"What about you?" Taking a sip of his beer asking you the same question that had you halting not wanting to discuss him. "You got somebody waiting for you?"

"Not anymore." A hint of sadness in your voice as you now avoided his eyes.

"I bet there are a million guys waiting in line just to get a chance with you." He was just being nice you thought to make you feel better and you cracked a weak smile at him.

"Afraid not." Getting back to your work completely avoiding him now feeling that brick wall get closer and closer to you.

"You probably just don't notice them is all."

His words were true countless guys flirted with you and tried to get your number, but it just went over your head.

It wasn't his fault he wouldn't have any idea about your past relationship. He would have no idea you were once engaged and completely happy.

Luke was simply asking you because you did, and he actually was genuinely curious. You were someone that Luke would go out with, and you were his type inside and out. There was something about you he wanted to get to know.

This guy felt like he stood a chance with you, and even though you two were flirting you kept a distance not wanting to lead him on or let him catch feelings.

"Hey Y/N hon can you go in the back and get some more cases of beer?" Cassandra's chirpy voice called making you turn your attention towards her.

"Yeah sure thing." Leaving the bar as she took over walking towards the back feeling like someone was watching you.

Grabbing one case you felt like you were strong enough to carry two. You were completely wrong as you struggled to carry the two boxes laughing to yourself at having no upper body strength. Your hands were starting to hurt as you tried to get a firm grip.

Luke noticed you had been gone for quite a few minutes so he decided to go make sure you were okay. Looking around to see you standing there knees slightly bent as you struggled getting the beer. Laughing to himself seeing that determined look on your face reminding him of himself.

"Need some help?"

His voice making you jump slightly as he jogged up to you grabbing the box on top your arms feeling less pressure.

"Jesus Christ you scared me." Turning to look at him laughing at the wide eyed look on your face. "I've got it."

"Doesn't seem like you do." He argued back smiling softly as he stacked another box in his hands with ease making you scoff.

"Show off." Mumbling under your breath as you followed him back to the bar.

Dropping the boxes off on the floor as Cassandra looked between you and Luke. A smile on her face as she smiled with a shake of her head knowing you bit off more than you could chew with the crates.

Underestimating how heavy those suckers were, and also you were as stubborn as a mule.

Luke walked back over to where he was standing as you got back to work. You could tell he was keeping his eye on you, and wanted to further your conversation. Cassandra could sense that too, and knowing her she was going to rub her hands and work her magic.

"Why don't you go on your break now?" Grabbing your hand as you looked around noticing the crowd wasn't going anywhere soon.

"Cass I can't leave you alone." Shaking your head as Luke beamed at the opportunity.

"Oh please this is nothing I can't handle." Giving Luke a quick wink as you looked away grabbing your purse underneath the counter top.

Cassandra knew exactly what she was doing, and she was good at doing it. She noticed the way Luke was watching you all night, and she hasn't seen you smile like that in such a long time. It was a familiar look that you got when you first met your ex fiancé.

Shooting Luke an apologetic look as you shrugged your shoulders giving him a wave as you shuffled through all the people. Giving a last turn back look you see Cassandra talking to Luke as he nods his head with a bow. Wondering what exactly they'd be talking about.

Luke quickly finishing his beer as he turned around to the doors you walked out of hoping you would still be in the parking lot.

Hearing a couple of his friends waving him over as he shook his head and kept walking towards the exit determined to catch you.

Looking around he spots you standing by a silver jeep leaning over the back seat messing with something. He also can't help but notice how your shirt was rising exposing your soft skin to his eyes.

Stopping his thoughts from getting any dirtier as he walked over to you standing there with his hands in his front pockets clearing his throat.

"Nice ride."

His sudden voice makes you jump turning around your back against the car as you placed a hand over your heart. He was really going to have to stop scaring you like this.

"Shit, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Trying to slow your heart rate down knowing it wasn't some killer stalking you.

"Sorry wasn't trying to scare you." Apologizing with a concerned smile as you crossed your arms across your chest.

"That's twice now you've snuck up on me." You teased. "Three strikes and you're out Luke ."

"I promise it won't happen again." Crossing a finger over his heart making you giggle.

"Let's hope not I'm still too young to have a heart attack." That made him laugh as he awkwardly stood directly in front of you now.

"So did you need something from me?" Looking around quickly then back to him asking him raising your eyebrows at him.

"Actually yeah there is something I wanted to ask you."

Luke was nervous and he didn't know why afraid that a beautiful woman like you would reject him so quickly it would make his head spin.

He figured someone like you flirted with guys like him when you worked to get bigger tips. Not being the type of guy to throw himself out there like that. Usually girls came up to him, and he never really had to work to get a girls attention.

"Yeah?" Having a feeling you knew exactly where this was going gulping so loudly you felt he heard it.

"I was wanting to ask if you wanted to hang out some time."

Your breath hitched as you thought how to let him down easily. Trying to find the right words but straining to speak once you saw how adorable he looked right now. He looked like some lost little puppy dog on the side of the road just waiting for someone to pet him.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt you to just give the guy a chance. It's been too damn long though since you've just hung out with a guy. Thankful he didn't use the term date meaning he wasn't exactly looking to move so quickly.

"Yeah sure why not." Your answer had him smiling from ear to ear making your cheeks feel like they were burning.

"I'm not that bad I promise." He joked as you smiled softly at him.

"I don't know about that I've heard about you bull riders." You mused fiddling with your car keys.

"The only rider you'd have to worry about is Jared Middleton."

Staring at him like he just grew two heads having no idea who he was even talking about noticing the confused look on your face. Something he didn't really want to get into already.

"That's for another time."

"I'm gonna hold you to that." Pointing a finger at him as he chuckled.

Exchanging your numbers as he put his name on your phone under handsome rider with the bull emoji making you laugh. Of course you put your name as 'that girl from the bar' snickering to yourself as you did it.

"I'll uhh text you." Motioning to his phone as you nodded opening the driver door.

"I look forward to it Luke." Watching him as he walked away back inside his figure disappearing into the crowd.

Your mind was telling you to just let him down easily and tell him you're not interested. Then again your heart was telling you to go for it. It was becoming all too confusing on what you should do. Knowing you can't be single for the rest of your life, and shut everyone that comes into your life out.

As you closed the door you sat there with your hands on the steering wheel. Staring straight ahead as you realized what you were about to get yourself into. This could either end good or completely horrible.

"Fuck." Whispering as your face hit the steering wheel.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @cookielovesbook-akie @adaydreamaway08

#Scott Eastwood #luke Collins #Scott Eastwood imagines #Scott Eastwood smut #Scott Eastwood x reader #Scott Eastwood fanfiction #Scott Eastwood fic #Scott Eastwood series #luke Collins imagines #luke Collins smut

[juice-plums]

Brett Hand x reader: After-Hours

(Smutty)

Y/n was packing up her things ready to go home after a long day at work she stretches her white button work showing her mid drift her short navy blue skirt show her thighs exposing some of her bum Brett walked in Y/n’s office seeing her stretch he tugs on the collar of his shirt just watching her do some stretch exercises 

“oh! Brett you scared me” she yelps but laughs since he was her friend Brett’s face a flushed red nervously looks away from Y/n he started to sweat she giggles from his awkwardness 

“yeah sorry Y/n... It’s just you have a nice body...I hope that does not sound weird at all” he whimpers she laughs and nods her head rarely anyone has complimented her body it has been sometime

“no not at all Brett thank you, you also have a nice body” she complimented back his face went red like a tomato Y/n went to gather some paperwork on her desk and put it in a file cabinet Brett watched quietly one paper slid out from her hand right on the floor she bent over to pick it up not thinking of it 

Brett saw her pretty panties her favorite color no less he gulps feeling his penis grow up no ,no, no Brett this is your friend he internally screams putting his arm in between his pants he shamefully stares some more no better than any other man 

“hey Brett are you doing anything after work there is this bar that's really great we really-” She stops talking and saw Brett covering his crotch she immediately heats up her hand going on her chest he screams embarrassed covering his face 

“I’M SORRY Y/N I’M NO BETTER THAN ANY MAN I COULD NOT HELP MYSELF’ he screams his boner peaking out of his pants very clear she gulps but smiles 

“oh Brett it’s okay” she soothes Brett uncovers his face and looks at her eyes

“you don’t think I am a perv?” He bit his lip she shakes her head no 

“I find it kind of flattering, you get turned on from my body” she whispers backing him up on the wall she cheekily massages the outline of his penis man was it long

“w-wait Y/n...mmm~” 

Y/n kisses his neck Brett arches it more biting his lip she rubs his crotch she backs up unbuttoning her shirt showing her bra the same color as her panties Brett weary chuckles 

“I knew it” 

she tosses her shirt and unzips her skirt seductively pulling down for him,Brett feels Y/n’s hands go onto his chest and takes of his blazer she tugs on his tie pulling him in for a kiss he whimpers his eyes tear up but he closes them pulling her body close to his 

Brett cups her ass gripping, kneading like some pizza dough Y/n sucks his tongue making him giggle,Brett slips his tongue into her mouth and began stuffing her face she drools enjoying her bra strap falling Brett’s hands go to her back and undoes the clip of her bra He backs up a saliva strand following taking off her bra showing off her tits

Brett cups one then the other and plays with her nipples tugging and pulling at them she whimpers her mind fuzzy feeling her pussy leak 

“holy shit Y/n your boobs are so nice I just wanna..” Brett pops one nipple into his mouths she yelps as Brett harshly sucks he was so a tit person playing with her other puffy nipple Y/n lets out whimpers ruffling his hair He backs up taking off his shirt and pants rather quickly a tent visible in his boxers he slips them off showing off his beautiful penis she gawks at his size he kisses her face

“now don’t be scared I won’t if you-”

“no I want to do this...come on” she lays back on her desk he chuckles watching her drape herself inviting him Brett went to her pulling off her panties he spread her legs kissing her pussy she hums jolting then he spits in her hole Brett positioned himself at her entrance where his tip kissed her closed vagina Y/n bit her lip as Brett slowly slides into her pussy opening her walls making a gushy sound 

Y/n face and body went hot and started to sweat Brett loudly grunts feeling her clench around him going fully in her Y/n holds onto him as Brett kisses her head and stays there for a minute for her to get adjusted her face a scrunched mess she hisses 

then Brett started to slowly thrust 1 single clapping sound every 5 seconds Y/n muffled moaned into her hand as he holds onto the sides of her belly Brett gave in to the lust he didn’t want to stop, he wanted to ram into this sweet pussy he needs to wait for Y/n to love it-

“AHH!~ BRETT FUCK ME, SO HARD THAT I CAN’T WALK TOMORROW FUCK ME,FUCK ME, FUCK MEEEEE” she loudly begs Brett grins and complies now thrusting 15 times into every minute Y/n tries to cover her mouth but her loud screaming filled the room Brett force French kissed her still fucking her hole 

“FUCK Y/N OHHH~ I’M GONNA COAT YOUR FUCKING WALL WITH MY JIZZ AND ALL OVER YOUR BODY” Brett screams fucking Y/n dumb he pressed the middle of her stomach Y/n’s tongue out like a dog pleasure sensation going off everywhere in her body she scratches his back Brett grips the end of her desk to get altitude she wraps her legs around his torso now in the mating press 

Brett still pounding into her balls slapping against her ass pre cum leaking out of her They lock eyes their bodies and sweat collide moaning together filling the small but secure office nothing in the air but sex 

“BRETT OOOOHH!~ I LOVE YOU!!!! FILL ME UP FILL ME UP WITH YOUR SWEET JUICE I WANNA MILK YOU DRY!!!~” she screams in ecstasy 

“YEAH YOU’RE GONNA MILK MY BALLS DRY Y/N WHO KNEW YOU’D BE SUCH A FUCKIN SLUT’

“YESSS I AM A SLUT DESPERATE TO COME OHHHH!!!~ PLEASE LET ME CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK PLEASE” she begs Brett smiles 

“YES CUM,CUM ALL OVER MY MONSTER COCK I’M GONNA FILL YOU UP SO MUCH IT’S LEAKING OUT OF YOU”

Y/n screams her hands to her hair humming so hard she see white Brett feeling her clench tighter than ever he came inside her filling up her womb his balls squelching holding her close she whimpers feeling his seamen enter inside her she sighs in relief and he whoops slowly pulling out with a slight pop his seed leaking out of her 

he lays her onto the floor she went to his side kissing him gently Brett pulls her close lighting a cigarette while y/n tries to catch her breath 

“Yeah I think everyone went home while I was fucking you”

Brett whispers she hums

“its okay...we can just say we stayed after-hours..to work on something” she kisses his lips sharing the smoke.

#Brett Hand #brett hand x reader #INSIDE JOB #smut #insidejob

[blairwaldcrf]

Sneak Peak Sunday

because i can't seem to keep to six or seven sentences today

more from the firstprince! kanthony bridgerton au (with a Roaring 20s Hollywood spin)

So maybe Alex takes the maddeningly long line of suitors as nothing more than an obstacle he shouldn't have to endure, but it's not his fault that he knows that where he belongs is in the room. He's rocking on his heels when he catches sight of blonde hair and that's all it takes for him to eschew decorum and ignore indignant shouts all to barrel ahead. 

Barely sparing him more emotion than to fill a cold stare, Henry flatly states. “You’re not welcome here.”

Ignoring the way Alex very much wants to see if hitting his jaw will make the man who yelled at him in the garden reappear, he controls himself with nothing more than a smile. It's a miraculous feat, really. Someone should dedicate poetry to his restraint. “Do you really think you’re the first white man to tell me I’m not welcome somewhere?”

“Hopefully not the first to tell you that it’s due to your accursed personality and not your looks,” Henry strikes back with such precision that Alex is almost impressed. “But I meant that you are not welcome at the front of the line when there are others waiting prior.”

“I'll wait if you tell me more about my looks.” Maybe he’s smirking a bit to drive home the point-- which there isn’t really a point other than he had noticed how irritated Henry had gotten the last time he’d gone down this route of antagonism last night. You think my smile is pleasing?

Angered enough Henry’s cheeks actually turn a bit pink at the comment, Alex feels momentarily victorious, even if it precludes another insult. Narrowing the ridiculous blue eyes of his, he drops his voice low enough to reply as derisively as possible and not show the entire hall what an ass he is. “I think I said enough about them the other night.”

“Henry, is that who I think it is?” Beatrice Fox’s voice carries behind him. The brother closes his eyes tight in what seems to be a curse at whichever God he believes in before even attempting a reply, exhaling rather dramatically before he calls back, “Cutting the line, yes.” As if for good measure, he opens his eyes to glare at Alex and spitefully add, “Rudely.” as if that wasn’t apparent enough by his tone.

Alex is too busy grinning to mind.

“Let him in, H.”

Henry doesn’t move. “Bea--,”

“Oh, don’t become Pip now that we’re in the States, please,” she says, and suddenly Henry is capable of showing genuine emotion, because the lack of pretense in his outraged gasp is almost as hilarious as the fact he immediately steps aside. 

Beatrice looks as though she’s trying to hide a smirk for her brother’s pride once Alex steps into the same room, but he’s grown up with June too closely not to know the cat-ate-the-canary grin of an older sister having gotten her way. “Hello Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”

He catches the unamused look Henry gives and tries not to be too apparent with his vindication, but he's performed better at too many other endeavors to say he's successful. “Good morning, Ms. Fox.”

The playfulness behind her smile doesn’t leave, but he's aware that she's watching her brother much more than him. He might be offended if it wasn't so amusing to watch someone else put him in his place. 

tagging @ssmtskw @terrainofheartfelt @vanderwoodlings @strideofpride @laufire @hydesjackiespuddinpop @kiwiana-writes

#firstprince #rwrb fic #writing tag

[heisenbergshusband]

unrequited (?) love

summary: billy hargrove pins after harrington but thinks he's pushed too far.

word count: 1022

-

billy hargrove grew up in california, his smile as bright as the blinding yellow sun. his blue eyes mirrored the ocean he practically lived in, and his toothy grin was enough to make any mother feel warmth blossom through her heart. he was all limbs and laughter and sandy blond hair. he was a golden child, but years went by and he supposed his warmth wasn't enough for his own mother. she left him behind, deserting him alone with the monster he called a father. billy was beaten and abused, and later dragged away to some shit town in indiana.

indiana was the opposite of california. it was away from the waves and the heat and the memories of his mother. he knew immediately that he didn't fit in with this town. it was small and dull and bare of entertainment. there was no easy escape for him here; no long lengths of water to return to when his skin is tainted with purple and blue. he gets a job that allows him to embrace the only water he can find in the town, and discovers quickly that his smile still made women warm, but not in the same way it did when he was younger.

his smile became a skill, not an expression. it was a way to get what he wanted, even if that was just an easy lay or a ride home. billy became used to this dance; flashing his pearly whites and batting his long lashes to make a lucky lady swoon and melt like putty in his hands. hawkins has become his own personal dating pond, and his new high school is no exception.

some guy-- tommy, billy thinks-- was pestering him in the hallway between classes. he was congratulating him about his latest conquest, saying that he'd been trying to "get between her legs" for ages. billy rolls his eyes. he isn't really sure who tommy is talking about, but the curly blonde hair and hazel eyes he mentions does strike a bell.

"i don't care, man. have her if you want. she was just a quick fuck," billy says.

tommy grins at that and punches billy's shoulder as if to say "thank you". he continues jabbering on, much to billy's dislike.

"you're awesome, bro. you don't need her anyway- you could have any chick you want. that is if harrington doesn't have her first."

that peaks billy's interest.

"who the fuck is harrington?" billy spits out.

"harrington? that's, uh, steve harrington," tommy says. "he's kind of the king around here."

tommy lets out a short laugh, but billy doesn't. finally, a challenge, billy thinks.

-

the day goes on, but billy hasn't stopped thinking about this steve "king of hawkins" harrington. he steps out of class as soon as the final bell rings and starts his way to the end of the hall. he's lost in thought, king of hawkins my fucking ass, when something checks his shoulder.

"fuck, i am so sorry man," the other student says.

billy instinctively swings one of his arms out, pushing the other boy. he's about to cuss him out but stops when they lock eyes. bright brown eyes meet his blue ones, and billy feels breathless. they stay still, just looking, until the other boy reaches out his hand. billy stares at it.

"again, i'm really sorry about that," the boy says, deciding to retract his hand after the rejected greeting. "i'm steve. steve harrington."

billy snaps back into reality. shit, this is the guy tommy talked about?

"billy," he responds.

"hey. and, again, sorry," steve says with an apologetic smile before strutting away.

billy stands speechlessly, turning his head to watch him walk down the hall. he feels his cheeks flush pink, and he has to shake his head at the sudden thoughts that appear in his head. he shouldn't be thinking about how he understands why the girls like him-- and isn't. he definitely isn't thinking about that, billy reassures himself. he forces himself to stop thinking about harrington's pink lips or the size of the boy's hand. and he definitely doesn't think about it that night when he jacks off either.

-

billy joins the basketball team. it's just a coincidence that harrington is already on the team. just like it's a coincidence that his camaro starts to find itself parked next to steve's bmw every morning. but billy knows that he’s not easy to like. he pushes steve over in practice and makes a point to show off his skills. billy is loud and rambunctious and despite this, he receives the most praise from their coach. he flashes a grin each time he makes a basket and throws his head back laughing when steve misses.

it's all a game to billy. his rivalry and teasing towards harrington doesn't end when the coach blows the whistle. it's the same thing as pulling a girl's pigtails, billy thinks. he's mean because he likes him.

which is why his heart stops when steve doesn't push back. he's quiet and lets billy score effortlessly on multiple occasions, turning away when billy advances towards him. billy thinks their game is over, that he pushed too hard and fucked it all up. not that there was anything to fuck up, he has to remind himself. it was purely competition, and clearly steve had finally gotten tired of it.

billy skips the next week of practice. he tells the coach it's "family issues" and that he can't stay after school. but during class, the rest of the team begs for him to come back, to which billy resentfully gives in. he changes into his gym shorts and steps onto the court. he isn't fully paying attention to the other players, his heart still miserable and pining. and that's when he gets knocked off his feet and his ass hits the floor.

"ha, and i thought you told me to plant my feet."

billy looks up to see harrington. he's grinning down at him, hand outreached. and unless billy is dreaming, steve winked at him.

holy shit, billy thinks. maybe the game isn't over after all.

#harringroveweek #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ian writes

[make-me-your-animal]

Chapter 12: Room numbers

Authors note: I'm not a hundred percent sure how I feel about this chapter, but it's also driving me crazy that I haven't finished this story yet. It's literally making it, so I can't write anything else. I have spent hours just staring at a blank page, trying to come up with something. This will be the second to last sirens and leppard chapter. But I have already started a sequel, so we will see. I hope you all enjoy it.

Room 306:

"Steve, wake up." Amaya giggled. she had already gotten ready for her day. washed her face, brushed her teeth, and brushed out her hair. when she returned to the main room, Steve was still curled into the blankets. All she could see confirming a person was even under the heap of white comforter was his wild hair. She wasn't surprised in the slightest, Steve was a lot of things, but a morning person wasn't one of them.

She frowned. Something seemed off today. Usually, he would just beg her to join him under the covers, but today, he just pulled the blanket up until there was nothing for her to see.

"Stevieeee," she purred, pulling on the edge of the blanket. He clutched it tight, not letting go.

"No," he grumbled. His voice was barely audible, but she could hear the sadness in it.

"Why not?" She asked, crawling back into bed with him. He engulfed her in his caccoon. The blanket was just thin enough that she could see him clear as day as they laid facing each other under the white comforter.

"Last night of the tour," he said slowly like that would answer her question. Amaya tilted her head to the side. What did that have to do with anything?

"And?" She questioned when the blonde didn't elaborate.

"Don't want this to end is all," he shrugged. His blue eyes were clouded with sadness. "I just... I don't think I've ever been this happy before. You make me feel happy... i love you more than I've ever loved someone."

"Oh, steve," she reached out a hand to craddle his face. "It won't end, baby. You make me happy, too. I'm not gonna throw away over a year of a loving relationship just because we aren't getting paid for it anymore. I love you too much for that"

"Promise?" He still looked nervous. It broke her heart.

"Promise," Amaya leaned in, kissing Steve softly.

"Promise you won't tell phil. I told you I love you more than him," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Fear not Stevie. Your secret's safe with me, "she giggled, kissing his nose."Now get your ass out of bed. I want breakfast, " she stated, throwing the blanket off both of them.

Steve grumbled again, but this time sat up. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table before flopping back down. It was progress Amaya felt.

Room 304

"Last day of the tour," phil whispered, running his fingers through gemma's blonde hair he slowly worked out the knots that had formed as Her head lay on his chest. He wasn't even sure she was wake. The sun had just peaked over the horizon, and they had been dozing in and out of consciousness together.

"Shhhh," she hissed, pressing her finger against his lips. "I don't want to think about it"

"This will change nothing between us, you know that, right? Im not letting you go anywhere. i worked too hard for this." phil stated rolled over, so he was hoving over her on all fours. Gemma scooted up the bed until she was eye level with him again.

He had worked very hard to regain her trust. He was still putting in the work to ensure that their relationship would last. He started leaving her little notes and still had flowers sent to her dressingroom every couple of shows. Gemma was forever grateful she decided to let him try. Decided to let herself try.

"I love you, gem,"

"I love you too," Gemma smiled, reaching up to craddle phils face in her hands. "So much more than I originally planned"

Phil smiled as he swooped down and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "So much ,my love, I love you so much." he lowered himself even more to bury his face against her neck. Her hands intantly made their way to his hair. He kissed the soft skin just to hear Gemma sigh.

Room 307:

Joe laid on his side so he could watch the women sleeping soundly beside him. The sun had risen and was shining in through the sheer white curtains. It's light casting everything in shades of gold.

She would be pissed if he let her sleep in much longer, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb her peace, not quite yet.

It was the last day of the tour. Tomorrow, he would be flying into Dublin. He would be going home. She would be flying home to London. They had talked it through, and he really believed they had a good shot. Still worry and doubt chewed away at him.

"It's rude to stare," Harper murmered, peering at Joe with half lidded eyes.

"Just admiring the finest of art," he grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

She hummed slightly, her eyes falling shut for a spilled second before snapping back open.

"Go back to sleep, angel," he purred, kissing her forehead. She smiled at him before nodding. He knew they would be all right. They all would.

Her eyes fell shut again, and her breath evened out. They would have to get up and start there a day soon, but not yet. They could remain in their shared peace just a little longer.

Room 310

Bex sat across from Rick, sipping her tea and watching the man carefully. He was wearing the hotel provided robe. His bangs fell into his eyes. He looked so content that she almost felt bad for what she was going to say. "This isn't going to last"

"I know," Rick returned, looking up from his cup of tea. His eyes were filled with understanding. "Is this where you tell me you had fun, but this is the end?"

"You're a great guy. I just don't do relationships"

Rick nodded, sipping at his tea. He finished his tea and stood up, finding his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. "See you tonight?"

Bex nodded, smiling slightly. The second he closed the door, her smile faded. It was the first time she ever really felt pain over a man in a long time.

Room 309

Rebel leaned back against the savs solid chest as the warm water flowed over them. "You know this is kind of a waste of water. We are just gonna shower again later, " Rebel smiled.

"Yeah, but it feels nice," sav returned.

Rebel hummed in agreement. She spun around, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His wet hair clung to her skin. "Gonna miss this"

"Yeah, but we'll figure something out." Sav smiled, leaning down and capturing her lips.

Rebel happily kissed back for a moment before epulling back and resting their foreheads together. "Think the others are this.... pensive?"

"Probably. The end of the tour is always a time of mixed emotions. This tour is especially hard. So much love has formed. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Mel and chris planned this"

Rebel giggled at that. The water was starting to turn cold, but she couldn't find it in her to care.

Mal sat across from chris in the hotel lobby, grinning at the other man. "We couldn't have had this go any better," He asked. "I mean, when you called me and said you knew of a band that would work well with my boys, I didn't think you meant this well. Steve's barely drinking anymore. They all aren't fighting nearly as much. They have someone else to look at other than each other."

Chris nodded his agreement. "Bex is starting to trust. Gemma finally found someone to match her energy. Amaya found someone to take care of other than Gemma. And let's be honest, they all are staying out of trouble because they are too busy with each other"

It's been a great tour, " Mel stated, standing up and shaking Chris's hand.

"It sure has," the other man agreed.

#def leppard #phil collen #joe elliott #steve clark #rick savage #rick allen #def leppard fan fiction #phil collen fan fiction #joe elliott fanfiction #rick savage fanfiction #rick allen fanfiction #steve clark fanfiction

[dracolunae]

Hey, i was wondering if you could give some tips on how to write image IDs? I've been starting to add them to the alt text of my image selfposts but i feel like im not doing them properly and since you have the update accounts and write them often i thought that you could give some good advice about it Also here's some other halloween candy for you lmao

[Image ID:

A photo of a long white ceramic serving plate topped with slices of cake with a light and dark swirled pattern in the cross section. The slices are laid out like tipped over dominos bricks.

End ID]

Yay! Marmorkuchen!

But about image IDs. I tend to go from big to small in the description. Describe the most banel basic ass shit first, like “Is this a photo, is it art, if so what kind? Digital? Photograph or scan of a manual drawing? Is this an infographic?” From then you can describe the general topics, themes and layout of whatever it is you’re describing. You also have to consider whether you’re writing this ID for people who are familiar with the contents (fanart) or if it’s gonna be for people who don’t. Deciding the level of detail is a personal choice but mostly influenced by what amount of detail is necessary for this to be a functional image ID. You wouldn’t describe the font that something is written in unless it matters for example!

You can also decide what writing style best fits the ID. i tend to write full, dense sentences to get as much info in without the ID running too long but I also write in full sentences and following grammar rules. Sometimes a note taking style works better if there’s lots of disjointed things you can’t fit well into nice sentences!

And if you’re describing multiple things or a series of things in one post you can describe key elements in more detail once and then refer to them more simply for the rest of the ID!

I normally avoid putting IDs in alt text because they can be harder to access for people and have a much shorter character limit. Also try to always surround your ID with some form of ID start and end indicators and keep the ID, if in the body of the text, as close to the image as possible!

As an example, say you’re got a 4 panel comic, I’d describe it like this (gonna make smth up as an example) if I was writing a description for an audience who isn’t necessarily super familiar with the material.

[Image ID:

A 4 panel comic of a made up scene in Just Roll With It Riptide. It is drawn digitally and fully coloured. The scene takes place on a ship, presumably the one the show is set on, called the Albatross.

Panel One: Jay, a woman with long ginger hair wearing a blue jacket over a white blouse, catches Gillion, a turquoise skinned Triton with green hair, fish fins and wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt, sneaking around the ship. Gillion is carrying a brown sack over his shoulder and sneaking. A speech bubble from Jay reads: “Gillion, what are you doing?”

Panel 2: Gillion is turned towards Jay, looking sheepish. You can see that the bag he’s carrying is filled with gold, which is leaking a little trail of coins behind him. Now that you can see Gillion’s entire body you can see he also has a tail and a flask of water tied around his waist, containing a small cute pink frog-octopus hybrid, which is know as Pretzel. Gillion: “Nothing Jay! I am merely, uh, relieving the ship of an unnecessary load so we can sail faster!”

Panel 3: Jay and Gillion stare at each other, Jay is unimpressed. Pretzel, peaking out of the flask at Gillion’s hip, starts collecting coins from where they leak out of the bag. Jay: “Gillion if you throw any more gold overboard as taxes I’m throwing you overboard to lighten our load.” “You” is written in italics for emphasis.

Panel 4: Gillion starts sprinting towards the edge of the ship, indicated through a running pose and blur lines, with Jay giving chase. Her eyes are in glowing red and a targeting reticule is superimposed over one of her eyes, as though she was locking in on her target (Gillion). A stream of gold sprays everywhere from the speed of the chase and Pretzel goes flying with it.

End ID]

#friendly visitors #anyone else feel free to add on this was just everything I could think off from the top of my head #and also now I really wanna see this jrwi comic I made up as an example

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

Red Boots (The Countess x Reader)

My addition to @mossybank fic exchange! This is my gift to @tatestripedsweater So I hope that you enjoy! Also I finished first bitches!!

You never would have imagined this to go down so quickly. You never would have imagined to even cross paths with someone like her. And yet here you were, ripped apart at the seams.

Warnings: implied cheating, angst, mentions of smut

This was totally not meant to be a Sugar Mommy story, but the way it turned out it totally is a Sugar Mommy story.

It had started quite … unusual. The night had been cold, your dress short and your date had ditched you at the very last second. Unable to get a cab, you had started to freeze, your jacket more picked for its looks than its practicality. Traffic was shit, and of course there was no bus showing up, even after almost an hour at the bus station. Everything sucked, you were freezing, ghosted by your date and none of your friends seemed to check their phones at this hour. As the Night went on, you wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, pressing your phone against your chest in the hope of some warmth from its batteries. It seemed like no one was going to pick you up tonight. Until she did. You hadn’t heard her approach, hadn’t realized the huge black car parking just a few feet down the street. But you immediately felt the hand on your shoulder. Expecting a drunk or a creep, your hand snapped up, ready to smack whoever dared to touch you. But before you could strike, your hand was caught midair, a pair of piercing blue eyes peaking down at you. She was dressed in a tight, black dress, a long and luxurious white fur coat atop of it. „Tsk, tsk. Now that’s not how we greet the Countess, is it?“

She had been mesmerizing. Your brain turned fuzzy, numb from the cold and intoxicated by her appearance. The sweet perfume, her huge blonde updo, the long, curved eyeliner and the unbelievably fluffy coat hanging loose around her shoulders. But most of all, you just couldn’t stop staring at her plump, painted red lips.

One thing followed another, and before you knew what had happened you found yourself displayed on a large, king sized bed, wearing nothing but the fur coat she had put around your shivering shoulders. Your back arched upwards, head thrown back as you moaned out her name for the very first time of many. Elizabeth.

To your own surprise, she let you stay the night. Awoken by the sound of running water, in the morning you found yourself still in the very same bed, naked body wrapped in a silky white duvet, your ass sore and your neck bruised green and blue. Just as your eyes fluttered open, a door to your right swung open. You gasped out loud when you say Elizabeth standing in the doorframe, nearing nothing but a huge diamond necklace, her luscious blonde hair now open, falling over her shoulders, concealing her breasts from you. To your satisfaction, she, too, had a few light bruises and bites down her front, however they were no more but a slight shadow on her skin compared to yours. Her she reached out her hand for you, left corner of her mouth curling into a sly smile. „Tub is full, baby, are you coming?“

After that, you just never left. Life with Elizabeth was exciting. Dangerous around the hotel, nerve wrecking when she had to feed and sensual in the bedroom. She was intoxicating, more than any person or substance you had been in contact with before. Adapting to her lifestyle was rather easy, the benefits of it just too attractive to miss out on. And she enjoyed your presence too. Elizabeth loved dressing you up, may it be her own clothes or the expensive items you’d pick up at luxury stores on nightly shopping sprees. She loved adding a necklace, a collar or special earrings to your looks, her eyes seemed to be trained to polish your looks, underlining your natural features in a way that made you love yourself like you Never had before. But feeling expensive was easy under her. You’ve had some good sex before, but she managed to completely transform your perception of making love. Pleasuring her wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just topping or bottoming, it was a form of worship. And you had never been a more dedicated servant. Whether it was in the comfort of her chambers, the elevator of the Hotel or the changing room in the luxurious mall downtown, when Elizabeth was at work, you could see stars. Her moans and curses when you were savouring between her legs made you addicted to it. Addicted to the feeling of pleasing her, addicted to her sounds, her body, her taste. Soon, you let her feed on you regularly, enjoying the dizziness it gave you, especially when her hands found your clit while drinking, lazily rubbing you off before riding your face for hours. It was obvious that your life had been turned upside down completely. That was, until everything collapsed.

Fall came early, together with frosty nights and short days. It was perfect. Elizabeth could leave the Hotel earlier as the nights grew longer, and nature’s palette of vibrant colors of dying leaves and fairy lights in shop windows created the perfect background to underline her otherworldly beauty. When you wandered down the streets towards your favorite luxury mall, all you could do was stare at her pale image, bright, expensive and in stark contrast to the rest of the world. If you had the choice, this would be all you’d ever lay eyes upon, for the rest of your life. Together with the change of weather, fall also summoned a whole new season of fashion. Elizabeth may have kept her calm and icy demeanour as her fingers interlaced with yours, but you could see the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. A whole new collection, a whole new set of items to dress you up and spoil you with. And it did not take long for you to spy the first thing you would be interested in. However, it wasn’t an oversized sweater o woollen cardigan Elizabeth could make you wear with nothing underneath. No, to her surprise it didn’t even take the luxury mall for you to find something that caught your eye in the shop windows. You came to a halt to look at something far off your usual budget, in Elizabeth’s eyes almost ridiculously cheap. Between plastic pumpkins with lightbulbs inside and fairy light of vibrant orange, a pair of crimson red, thigh high boots with a heel as thin as your Little Finger graced a tiny shop window. When you stood to look at them closer, Elizabeth chuckled. „What, Are we shopping Halloween costumes now?“ You gave her a playful glare before rolling your eyes. „I just like the Color, okay?“ She chuckled, her hand, that still held yours pulling you closer towards her. „Well“, the countess’ lips were so close to your ear, you could feel them move against your earlobe as she whispered, „Let’s see how you like them on then, hm?“

It turned out that you both liked them quite a lot. So much actually, that you never even got to step out of the dressing room in the red boots. Your wide pants of today hadn’t fit into the boots, so you stood in just your thin lace top, matching panties and the boots as you pulled the curtain aside. Elizabeth stood in front of you, eyeing you up and down with the right corner of her mouth curled upwards. Just as you tried to take a step outside, she pushed you right back in. Your back hit the wall behind you, your surprised gasp silenced by her dark red lips on yours. Teeth tugged hungrily at your lower lip, her tinge slipping inside to tumble with yours. Your hands found the flat surface behind you, pressing against it for support as Elizabeth have your lips a few more gentle bites, before pulling away just about an inch. “Baby”, she breathed out with from arousal darkened eyes, “You’re so fucking hot.” A whine escaped your throat, Gigi away the warmth building up in your stomach. Elizabeth’s eyebrow twitched upwards. With a coy smile, she lowered herself down onto her knees. “Not one sound, or we’re not getting these pretty things.” Her index finger traced upwards on the boots, towards the inside of your thighs. Not wanting to rest her, you nod, forcing yourself to stay quiet. With a satisfied twinkle in her eyes, Elizabeth grabbed each boot at their upper end, savouring the look of your thighs in them before yanking them apart.

“So you’ll really get them for me?” You we’re breathless, legs shaking and holding onto the counter of the shop, “Even though they’re kind of … tacky?” Elizabeth laughed, amused by both how hard she’d taken you as well as your anticipation for this simple pair of shoes. „Darling, I’d buy you a fucking hamster if that’s what you desired.“

It was still that very same week, just a few days later when you paced the hallway of the hotel in your new boots for the first time. But you did not have time to give them the catwalk they deserved. You were in a haste, rushing through the door, half burned down cigarette still between your fingers. At the bar, Liz acknowledged you with a smile, eyes wandering along the crimson footwear and the small, black silk you decided to pair them with. “Looking good today, love”, she said. “Liz!”, you called out, almost stumbling against the bar as you came to a halt in front of you, “Liz! I heard a scream! Someone fell out of the window, Liz, I saw them! You need to call an ambulance and the police and- Oh my god, Liz I think you know her!” “Easy now”, Liz reached out for your hand, giving it a calming squeeze. “People die here all the Time, it’s nothing special.” “But-“ You meant to say this was different, but just in that moment, the well known ping of the elevator interrupted your conversation.

You turned around, ready to run if Mr March happened to enter the bar, or embrace your lover if she finally returned from freshening up. Or maybe even just watch one of the guests pass by, giving your boots a wide-eyed, really not that subtle glance. Whatever it was that went through your head, what you saw was the opposite of it. Elizabeth stepped out of the elevator, dressed in a fresh black coat, silver waves falling over her shoulders. To her right was a man, a stranger to you. Dark hair, a subtle beard, already dressed in a suit you recognised from Elizabeth’s dressing room. He was pale, yet his skin was glowing, every movement full of energy. The way his eyes scanned the room, wandered over you and Liz just s Moment longer than they should gave you the final gut punch. Whoever he was, whatever shitty hotel room she had pulled him out of in the past few hours, she must have immediately turned him. Something dear and important to her. The one thing she held holy. The one thing she never offered you. Your feet started moving before the realisation even hit you. The countess smiled your way before taking the new guys hand. Whether or not they were walking your way, you didn’t see anymore. Heels clicking on the ground, Liz calling after you and your Vision blurry from tears, you stomped towards the door, soon falling into a sprint. You had to get out of here, out of the hotel, out of these clothes she bought you. She had stripped you of your old life, built you up new and polished, let you try a taste of her. You had never talked exclusivity, and if you were honest, you knew this day was coming. And you had dreaded it. So. Fucking. Much. Your silk robe was cold, way too cold of the fall weather outside, but there was no way in hell you would ever turn back. No. Fucking. Way.

#mossybanks fic exchange #moss baby #t*testripedsweater #american horror story #ahs #ahs hotel #ahs x reader #the countess #the countess x reader #lady Gaga #berry’s writings

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 3 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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"Baby," a voice cooed at you while hands gently shook your shoulders, stirring you from sleep.

"Come on. Get up. The sun's gonna be rising soon," he continued, speaking to you softly.

You groaned like a wounded animal and tried to resist the pull to consciousness, hoping you could slip back away and he would cease this assault.

Of course, that didn't happen, and the murmuring and shaking didn't come to an end. You found yourself turning around and groggily taking in the sight of Hawks. He already looked wide awake, gold eyes beaming, skin glowing, handsome face as immaculate as ever.

It made you want to punch him.

"Get up," he said, more so telling than asking, albeit politely.

He had warned you last night that he intended to wake you early; but, that didn't stop you from groaning tiredly, rolling over, as if in protest, before complying with his request, removing the blanket slowly, afraid to expose yourself to the cold.

He had stoked the fireplace before waking you; that much was clear, seeing as it wasn't blistering cold when you wiggled out of bed. It was chilly, of course, but not enough to leave you trembling helplessly.

You realized that Hawks had already dressed himself, boots thumping quietly on the floor as he stepped around the bed. He had slipped on a grey T-shirt, and didn't seem to be feeling cold at all, judging by the lax way he rolled his shoulders, wings jutting out from his back gracefully.

He gave you a sideways glance, an almost untrusting look written across his face.

"I'm getting up!" you hissed at him.

Hawks wasn't expecting that sudden outburst and flinched a little, eyes widening slightly and feathers shuddering behind him. It was a comical sight, if you were being honest. It wasn't like him to be so high strung.

Before you could assume you had upset him, Hawks blew raspberries and turned away, heading for the stairs.

When he walked away, you most certainly did not admire the way his cargo pants hugged his ass, nor the way his shirt was pulled tight across the plains of his muscular back, nor how his crimson feathers looked so beautiful draped behind him.

Hawks didn't laugh when you met him downstairs; but, he sure looked like he wanted to. Here he was wearing some loose, comfortable clothes like it hadn't snowed all night, while you were dressed up in thick pants and a heavy coat with multiple layers underneath, ready to weather the elements.

As soon as you stepped downstairs, you were hit with the familiar smell of coffee lofting about the cabin. You recognized the aroma as his favorite, the one he stockpiled at the agency, that was almost always coming from his office.

He had taken the time to pour you some, as well, evident by the mug he was trying to hand to you with a suspiciously innocent look on his face.

"Seriously?" you laughed when you eyed the receptacle he was offering.

It was his merch, clearly. The mug was black with sparkly gold trim, the pattern matching the chest on his jumpsuit . It was covered in comic book style quotation marks containing, what you were guessing, was supposed to be his quotes.

Hawks watched you admire the cup, looking a little too smug for his own good, and returned to sipping from the very plain mug in his other hand.

"Do you really say these things?" you laughed, not expecting an answer because there was no way such nonsense flew from his mouth in the middle of a fight.

"Aheh. 'I am speed'," you read aloud with a scoff. "More like, 'I do speed'," you teased with a grin, catching the way he almost choked on his coffee, shoulders trembling with laughter.

"Who the hell approved these?" you added on.

"The hero commission, I think," Hawks replied, shrugging his shoulders a little.

The coffee, of course, tasted great. He bought the expensive, high-class stuff, after all. Hawks was the only person you knew who could sleep in the dirt with his visor skewed across his face, without a complaint to be had, but refused to drink anything but imported, specially grown coffee beans.

He was ushering you out the door the second you were finished with your coffee, pushing you out into the snowy forestscape, hands grabby and wings fluttering anxiously.

Before you could shudder and complain about the cold, Hawks scooped you up into his arms, kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot, and took to the sky.

You couldn't believe he was out here without a jacket on. Your fully covered arms clung to him for dear life, shivering and trembling in the cold. He wasn't flying particularly fast; but, the winds felt punishing, ice cold biting at your cheeks and seeping in through your clothes.

You were too cold to really appreciate the beauty of the forest covered in freshly poured snow. The glistening, white peaks sparkled like something out of a fairytale in the dimly lit morning light.

"Come on, babe," Hawks cooed, turning his head to blow hot air right on your ear.

Well, no wonder he wasn't cold. It seemed to make sense to you, then, why he went into his rut during these times of the year. He was generating enough heat to be a transportable furnace.

"If you keep clinging to me like that, you're gonna miss the view," Hawks uttered, so close that his lips moved against your skin as he spoke.

You peeled back from him, away from the warmth you were desperately trying to steal. He hadn't stopped flying yet, but slowed down a bit.

"O-oh..." you whispered, taking in the snowy wilderness.

A few miles past the cabin's backyard was a cliff that dipped down into rolling mountains. He had flown overhead, granting a wonderful view of the many acres of untouched wilderness, towering trees and lush forest landscape over rolling hills and mountains.

But, Hawks hadn't dragged you out here at the crack of dawn just to see the snowy landscape. He wanted you out here right at sunrise for a very specific reason.

He had made it just in time for the sun to peak out from the horizon line, like a giant glimpsing through the trees on the mountain top.

The sun was shining a mystical light across the mountains. The overcast clouds were dark purple gliding across crystal clear, blue skies. Rays of red sunlight glided through the trees while gold laid out across the piles of snow like a glistening blanket.

"See?" Hawks murmured, his flight coming to a halt.

He hovered, fairly high up, wings flapping gently, arms still wound tight around you, holding you close. There was a gentle breeze brushing through his hair, causing the feathery strands to tickle at your cheeks.

While you were looking at the landscape in awe, he was staring at you. The sunlight lit up your face and reflected heavily on your eyes, making them glow like crystal orbs. You had finally stopped shivering, too in awe at the sight to notice the chilling bite of the wind.

He didn't say it aloud; but, the most beautiful thing in the sunrise was you.

He liked to tell himself that the rut was making him mushy, emotional. Surely, powerful pro-hero Hawks couldn't be this soft? But, he knew his rut was only amplifying what he already felt so strongly.

His rut made him less inhibited, surfaced darker, feral desires that lay in waiting under layers of discipline he had spent most of his life building.

Even without his rut, you had a power over him he couldn't deny, the power to break him, to peel back the masks he wore, to melt away his self-control, until he was reduced to a desperate animal.

Oh, but the beauty of it all was that you loved that side of him. You had proved to him that you loved every side of him, even the parts that he tried so desperately hard to ensure would never see the light of day.

Even if he could blame his desires on his mutation, that didn't change that he was an assassin, for heroes, yes, but a murderer none the less.

You-

-you knew that, and yet, still, those soft hands held him as if he was untainted. You purred beneath his touch as if those weren't the same hands he had used to kill.

"Keigo?" you hummed.

Just like that, there you were again, freeing him from the torment of his own mind, a lifeline to free him from drowning in the ocean.

"Thank you for this," you uttered, turning your head to look at him.

God, he was beautiful. His gold irises were amplified by the sunlight, like shiny coins in a wishing well, taking in the sight of you shamelessly.

The bird-like curve of his eyelids already gave him a mystical appearance, now further illuminated by the rays of light shining down from above. The wind was blowing, tossing his already frazzled hair in a senseless dance.

The bright red plumes that made up the shape of his wings looked like something out of a dream. In the sunlight, the feathers glowed magnificent crimson, glowing in sharp contrast to the pale white, wintery landscape.

Your hands, that had been gripping his shoulders during the flight, wove up the back of his neck, fingertips touching the trimmed hairs there. You felt his hands tighten where they were holding you, his arms weaving tighter, as if he could get you closer.

"Do you like it here?" Hawks uttered softly.

His tone concerned you a little, as if he was sincerely worried that you were a prisoner here.

You smiled, replying, "it's the first time we've gotten to truly be alone. I'm enjoying myself more than you think."

His gaze softened at your words. A couple of your fingers played with the soft, short hairs at the top of his neck. He felt unbearably warm there, skin slightly damp with sweat. It was startling, considering how cold it was outside.

You felt the soft brush of his lips and let your eyes flutter shut. He was slow, careful, like he was tasting something new and delicious for the first time.

When he pulled back and tilted his head, you felt the faintest drag of his chin across your cheek, felt the fine hairs of his beard tickle your skin.

He hadn't shaved in a couple weeks, leaving you to see him in a mess than most didn't get the honor of. The normally neatly trimmed hairs he shaved down to a fine patch on his chin were now covering most of his jawline, the same beautiful, pale blonde as the hair on his head.

Tantalized, you leaned in, nuzzling your cheek against his jaw, before tilting your head back and feeling the drag of his soft beard against your skin. It felt good, maybe a little too good, and you failed to suppress a quiet gasp.

When you had pulled back far enough to catch his gaze, you immediately realized his eyes had changed. The calm was gone; now, something akin to a storm was brewing underneath.

It was a look you were very familiar with.

He let out a low exhale, as if he had been holding his breath. Your name fell from his lips, low and sultry, a warning, or a curse, and it made you shudder.

Hawks tilted back suddenly and started a sharp decent downward. Having flown together many times, you weren't afraid. The arms around his shoulders tightened and you let out a soft gasp, but more so out of surprise than fear.

His wings fanned out and took him sharply soaring through the trees at a speed much faster than he had brought you here. His grip on you was almost painfully tight, as if his fingers were trying to dig past the fabric of your clothes to get to your skin.

Excitement made you forget about the biting cold, the forest around you distorted almost violently. Suddenly, the cabin door was creaking and then being slammed shut. You hadn't even seen the cabin come into view. Everything felt like a daze.

He flew up to the loft and dropped you unceremoniously at the edge of the bed. The tumble had resulted in you facing away from him; but, you could feel his eyes burning through you.

"Take off your clothes," Hawks commanded, his voice oddly polite despite the nature of his request.

Just as soon as you started working your jacket off, he was kneeling to pull at the laces on your boots. He was strangely gentle when he pulled your shoes off, less so when he tossed them aside. As you worked your shirt off, he pulled your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, leaving you mostly bare and cold.

You rotated around and leaned up on your elbows, catching his cold stare, indicating that you were not done yet. You peeled your socks off, feeling a rush of excitement at the look he was giving you.

Hawks usually wore a kind, harmless face, not that it was unnatural, for he truly was a good person. However, most could easily forget or be blind to how powerful he was.

Now, in his gold eyes, that was what you saw, the reality that he could take whatever he wanted, when he wanted. You didn't have to be reminded, for every sparring and training session did just that: you couldn't best him if your life depended on it.

Still, Hawks wasn't that kind of person. He was the kind of loved, often times so passionately that you feared you couldn't keep up.

Even now, when his hands took hold of your waist, his body language dominating, wings spread wide behind him, you felt loved.

An amused sound, like a hum, rumbled out of his chest as he carefully maneuvered you around.

You were compliant, letting him roll you around and push your chest down into the bed. The hand on your back was gentle, but commanding, fingers splayed wide in the space between your shoulder blades.

Instead of nudging your thighs with his hands, a boot-clad toe poked between your ankles, commanding you to spread your legs, which you did with a low moan. You leaned up on your toes, presenting to him like an animal.

The sight threatened to send him into a spiral, and you felt his clothed body fall over you, pushing you down into the bed.

His wings flapped once, sending a sharp gust of wind spiraling around the room. There was a painfully obvious contrast between the soft texture of his shirt and the rough texture of his pants.

He made it very clear, with a roll of his hips, that he was ready to take you. The feeling of his clothed erection against your sex, combined with the knowledge that he could just slip right in without preamble, had you mewling.

"You like this," Hawks observed, the words like thunder as they rolled off his tongue.

He retreated, suddenly reeling back and standing behind you, warmth leaving along with him.

"You like when I just take?" he asked, accentuating 'take' with a smack to the back of your thigh. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it did manage to startle a yelp out of you.

"Yeah," he uttered lowly, agreeing with his own observations. "You like being Hawks' little plaything," he continued, almost purring the words.

Your delirious brain didn't really know what to expect next. When you heard a thump, you had no idea what to make of it, until you felt breath on your skin and realized that was the sound of Hawks' falling onto his knees behind you.

He didn't waste any time diving in, lapping a heavy tongue across your slit, from top to bottom. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you still while his tongue breached your entrance.

If his enthusiasm and lack of grace wasn't enough, the rumbling sound he made was enough to make it obvious he liked it.

You couldn't fathom that your taste could possibly be that good; however, you didn't dare comment, especially not when he was doing things with his tongue that shouldn't be humanly possible.

A rough smack to your behind startled you from a delirious daze of pleasure. You yelped quietly, but otherwise remained compliant. When he smacked you again, this time growling faintly into your sex, it was clear he wanted something that you weren't delivering; but, you didn't know what.

"K-Keigo, what-" you whined, breaking off into a howl when he smacked you again.

Normally, such a touch would have you instinctively shriveling away; however, his grip on you was tight, and it kept you still.

Hawks smacked you again, you helplessly cried out, again, and the sound faded into moans that you couldn't possibly contain with what he was doing. You started to wonder, when another smack was delivered, if he was just doing that for his own amusement.

Eventually, he stopped and leaned back, rising to his feet. His hand slid over yours, large palm practically swallowing yours, and guided it back to your sex. You rotated a little, angling your body to follow his movement.

"Feel that," he gently commanded. "How wet and warm you are for me."

You heard the floorboard creak as he leaned back, clearly to get a good view. You did as he requested, immediately driving two fingers into yourself. Sure enough, you were slippery, walls compliant and squishy, and unbelievably warm inside.

Being ready for him with little provocation wasn't exactly a new thing. You were both very busy heroes and keeping your relationship on the downlow. That meant quickies more often than proper time together.

Yet, Hawks sounded immensely pleased; with himself or with you, you couldn't quite tell.

He returned to the floor, hand brushing your knuckles to push your fingers in as deep as they could go.

"Keigo, what are you-" you began, cutting off when his tongue returned to your heat, right alongside your fingers.

"Finger yourself," he told you, sounding oddly blissful despite the fact that you hadn't touched him at all. His cock was still trapped inside his pants, throbbing against the rough material.

You complied with his request, lacking in any grace or proper friction considering the awkward angle. However, Hawks groaned in approval at the view before leaning back in.

His tongue dipped in right alongside your digits. Immediately, he forced the pace and you were desperate to try and keep up, fingers squelching in and out of your core alongside the slobbery mess of his tongue.

Your fingers couldn't compare, lacking in the length, thickness and dexterity of his digits. But, it seemed that Hawks was less focused on getting you off and more focused on playing with you; or, maybe, you had severely underestimated what the taste of your essence was doing to him.

At some point, he pulled back, grabbed your wrist to remove your fingers from your core, and sucked them into his own mouth. You weren't expecting the teeth, and let out a low hiss when his fangs threatened to pierce the skin, holding you firmly in place while his tongue sucked your fingers clean.

He didn't release your hand when he was done. You heard the floorboards creak as he stood up, felt him tug your hand down, until your knuckles brushed his clothed cock.

"You want that?" Hawks breathed.

His free hand gently spread over the space between your shoulder blades, pushing you down before you could dare think to lean up. Your cheek was resting against the sheets, hair spewed about in a mess. His hand wandered, pushing hair out of the way until your neck and shoulders were properly exposed.

From where you laid on the bed, you couldn't make out the sight of him; but, you could see one of his wings, stretched out, looming predatorily.

"Yes," you replied hoarsely.

His hand glided over the prominent bump where your first vertebrae jutted from the top of your spine, and lowered, setting between your shoulder blades once more, where he held you still.

"Then, take it," Hawks uttered, his other hand releasing your wrist.

You let out a low hiss, wanting to curse him for making such a ridiculous request. You couldn't see his face; but, you sure as hell could feel the smirk he was wearing as he stared at you, watching your handle fumble with his belt.

You doubted it was mercy; but, Hawks leaned in closer, the tops of his thighs sliding over the backs of yours, making it a little easier to undo his belt buckle.

The button on his pants followed, but not with ease, before you tugged his zipper down. You couldn't tug his pants down like this, leaving you to fumble around with his boxers, trying to fish his cock out.

"Keigo, you fucking ass-" you growled, not bothering to hide your frustration.

Hawks laughed softly, sounding a little more out of it than he did amused. "'m sorry," he cooed. "-like seein' you struggle."

The slur in his voice should have given it away, his patience had depleted; however, it still surprised you when he suddenly swatted your hand away. He hooked his thumb on the hem of his boxers and pulled them down just enough for his cock to bob free.

You felt the smooth tip nudge at your entrance, the faintest warning, before he pushed forward and entered your moist heat.

"Ohhhh fuck," Hawks howled.

He gave you no time to become accustomed to the sudden intrusion, immediately pistoning his hips back and forth, driving his cock in and out of you.

One hand pinned your torso, while his thighs pinned your legs, and his other hand gripped your hip for leverage. You shifted your feet, trying to lift up on your toes to better the angle, and bumped against his boots.

He was still fully clothed; and, really, that shouldn't have mattered so much. After all, how many times had he freed his cock from his jumpsuit to take you quick and hard before tucking it back in and immediately looking as if nothing nefarious had occurred. Yet, still, the realization had you feeling dizzy.

Before you could nudge a hand between your thighs, something beat you to it. You recognized that bizarre texture. It was soft, sure, but a tad bit pricklier than a normal feather, with an unnatural, firm touch. The little heathen knew exactly how you liked to be touched there, too.

The wet, lewd noises of your union, skin slapping together, was drowned out by the litany of moans pouring from his mouth. If he wasn't crying out in ecstasy, he was huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon.

If you were being honest, he was being just a little too rough, a little too fast, offering you no reprieve. You didn't doubt that he would stop if you asked him to; but, you sure as hell didn't want him to. The intensity of it all had you on a plain of existence you rarely got to experience, where pleasure became blinding and mind-numbing.

His hand slid off your back and onto the bed, grabbing a fistful of the sheets as he set a brutal pace, the kind that threatened to unravel your sanity.

"Fuck! You feel so fucking good," he growled, sounding so out of breath and lost. "Gonna fill you up. Yeah, I am. Want my seed dripping out of you all fucking week."

High off the pleasure, and maybe a little influenced by his own state, you moaned approvingly at the suggestion.

"Baby," he whined, suddenly sounding like he was in pain. The feather fluttering against your pearl intensified, practically vibrating against you with how fast it was moving.

"Need you come, need you to come," Hawks pleaded, the words hissing out from his lips between desperate pants.

You didn't think you could come in that moment. Everything felt so good, from his cock rearranging your insides to his feather flicking at your clit. The pleasure was tingling down your thighs and crawling up your spine. You could barely breathe, let along process a coherent thought beyond Keigo.

The hand that had been holding your hip let go and joined the other in gripping the bed. He arched over you, forehead meeting your back.

"Come for me, come for me," Hawks sobbed.

You realized then, as he trembled behind you, that he had reached his own completion, and he didn't slow down until his orgasm waned. You could feel his seed, like molten lava as it filled your insides.

Hawks was still panting when he growled, "again."

He flipped you over, winding your legs over his waist and somehow managing to keep his cock seated inside of you during the transition. Your arms flopped uselessly above your head. You felt weak, laying there like a doll while he turned you over. Still, it felt good: his cock, his hands, his warmth.

One of his arms looped beneath your lower back and tugged you properly onto the bed. He climbed onto the sheets and followed, dragging you beneath him.

He was prepared to continue thrusting into you wildly and blindly chase another orgasm when your eyes met and he froze up. You could practically see him blink away delirious arousal, the sight of your debauched face bringing him back to his senses.

"B-baby, do you need me to stop?" Hawks offered, the words falling from his lips so weakly.

You huffed out a weak breath and reached for him. He leaned down, letting you wind your arms across his shoulders. Your fingers dipped across his clothed back until you reached his wings.

Hawks literally shouted when your fingers dipped into the exposed seams on the shirt and touched the baby feathers growing fresh from his back. The sound rattled your bones and made you jerk from the startle.

He didn't have to be told twice, obviously, for Hawks continued his thrusting immediately. The slippery, wet sounds of his claim over your body was downright disgusting, and you loved it. Your legs clung desperately to his hips, heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

One of his feathers was still pressed against your clit, now trapped between your bodies. It had stopped moving; but, every time he thrust back into you, it created delicious friction.

Your assault on his wings rendered Hawks incapable of speech. The pleasured sounds he made was almost unnatural. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he was in pain between the broken, blabbering moans and choked, sharp gasping.

His arms were still wound beneath you, holding onto you for leverage and clinging to you so closely, so tightly, it was almost crushing. His wings were arched up high, flapping occasionally as if to increase the momentum behind his thrusts.

His face fell into your throat, forcing your head back into the sheets. He was burning hot, practically oozing sweat. In the corner of your eye, you could see the red tint staining his ears. You could practically feel his frustration gnawing its way through his body and into yours.

Without warning, you felt what couldn't be mistaken for anything other than Hawks' teeth piercing the skin of your neck. Sure, he had bit you before, even left faint hickies on occasion; however, this was something else entirely, and forced a scream from your throat.

You had no doubt he had pierced the skin, judging by how it burned. He was growling into the skin, holding onto you with his teeth as if you were attempting to flee. You didn't dare release his wings, fingers woven through the fine plumes, caressing the sensitive skin of his shoulder blades, where crimson feathers grew.

The bite hurt, without a doubt, but there was no denying the electrical shocks of pleasure it sent through your body. If it wasn't that, then it was the growls vibrating from his mouth onto your skin.

Suddenly, your orgasm hit, and left you screaming and gasping with a sort of ferocity you didn't think you were capable of. Something that sounded almost like his name fell from your lips at some point. Your back arched and your legs trembled where they rested around his hips.

You failed to realize he was following closely behind you. Your grip on his feathers had gone limp and you didn't notice the way his wings arched up, the tips of the longest quills nearly touching the ceiling. He kept going and going, until he was spent and your cries of ecstasy came to a halt.

Hawks let go of your throat and leaned up, removing his arms from beneath you to set his palms on the sheets. He should have felt embarrassed or ashamed or something. But, looking down at the bleeding bite wound on your shoulder, watching the way your chest heaved with heavy breaths, seeing the tint of red along your cheeks and neck, he felt blissfully proud.

Hawks scooped you into an embrace and carefully rolled onto his side, bringing you in with him and cradling you against his chest. One of his wings fell over you, the plumes stretched wide to hide you from the outside world. All you could see was him, his handsome face, the crimson feathers of his wings.

You were acutely aware that he was still inside you, still somewhat hard; but, his temperature was lowering and his breathing was steadily returning to normal. Your fingers untangled from his plumes and came around to rest limply on his chest.

He lapped his tongue softly against the bite wound until it stopped bleeding before peppering it with kisses. It stung a little and you squirmed in his grasp.

"I'm not sorry about the bite," Hawks confessed lowly, leaning back to look at your face.

"Me either," you replied, offering him a weak smile.

He looked blissfully unaware until you leaned in and sucked some of the skin of his neck into your mouth. Hawks groaned approvingly, laying still until you were satisfied and let go, leaving behind a faint, purple bruise.

You stared at his handsome face, watching the vibrant, red blush slowly leave his features as he calmed down. Blonde locks were clinging to his sweat soaked forehead and everything between the two of you reeked of sex. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to complain when he looked so damn happy.

Hawks leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against yours lips. Before he could retreat, you tilted your head and leaned in, not letting him escape. He hummed into the kiss, letting you lead until you were content and departed with a wet smack.

"Just a little bit longer," he promised, fingers gently digging into your back.

"Tell me what you're thinking," you requested, nuzzling your nose against his.

Something uncertain flickered in his gold eyes and his lids narrowed slightly.

"It's not sensical," he uttered lowly, and you felt one of his hands slide around to your front. His thumb lovingly brushed along the dip of your tummy, beneath your belly button. His gold eyes shifted down, staring at the expansion of your naval with dedication.

You both had implants. It wasn't going to happen. He knew that. Of course he did. But, he couldn't help but feel dedicated to commit to the effort, as if it would.

Your hand followed his, spreading over his fingers to press him down gently over your lower abdomen, as if this would be successful, as if there was a chance he would take. The encouragement to put him ease.

Hawks wanted to believe it was the rut talking. Some of it was, his body deliriously driven to mate, to the point that he overheated and arousal pained his core. But, his motivation wasn't purely biological. It was because it was you, whom he trusted with every fiber of his being.

But, he couldn't bring himself to tell you that. You loved being a hero, and he wasn't going to take that from you.

It felt special, being hidden with him like this, beneath his wing, whispering such depravities to one and other, that the rest of the world would never know. You felt safe, in a way that felt impossible. Here, as irrational as it sounded, you felt like Hawks could protect you from the world.

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo x you #hawks x reader #hawks smut #takami keigo fanfiction

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 3

“You used it.”

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4.2k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; masturbation (f); ambiguous infidelity; awkward oc; koo being cute but insufferable

previous - next

For about a week and a half, you simply ignore the outrageous box sitting in the centre of your living room.

If you omit to remember what’s inside, it’s just a nice-looking decoration, embellishing your messy coffee table. It’s perfectly fine sitting between the unopened mails and the takeout brochures. You see Jungkook glance at it each time he comes over but he has the decency to not mention it. You might have read a little disappointment but he didn’t share it with you, not wanting to bother you, as you rightfully assumed, and in any case, you’re just doing exactly what you said you would: not use it. 

Then comes a glorious day of resting from work for you, and miraculously it matches your two closest girl friends' schedules and they owe to come over, celebrate a belated Christmas with you. And as you’re quickly tidying up the place, the question of the box being way too present here is raised again. They will ask about it. One will surely open it before you even get to answer.

The box has to go. 

And in your room, hidden in your bedside table where you know no one will peak, it goes. 

When you wake up from the fantastic, long-awaited Christmas celebration, it’s with a terrible headache. Mary, the amateur singer, received a ridiculous karaoke mic and if karaoke is involved, so is alcohol. You didn’t know that but apparently, you can get a severe almost deadly hangover from rosé. Well. Starting this new year already learning new things, how great. 

One thing that’s unchanged for this new year, as it seems, is Jungkook's talent for psychic arts. He somehow knows you need a copious breakfast made with love and by him, and the curious hangover shot only his roommate has the secret recipe of, to cope with being alive this morning. 

“Hello, Sunshine.” Your face feels so bloated and tensed at the same time like it’s made of playdoh and some devilish kid came and punched at it then squished it hard with its chubby mean fingers.

Very unpleasant.

You know you have very little to do with a ray of sunshine at the moment. You're more alike a gremlin or something. Therefore, as a gremlin would, you groan an answer. You catch through the minuscule slits you now own for eyelids a grin from him. It’s not even vexing or upsetting. His lovely, lovely smile is always a blessing. It’s the only thing that makes you not want to head back to bed and just sleep until death ensues. The pretty, pretty thing. With the big bunny front teeth. He is the sunshine. 

“Had fun last night?” He asks, still grinning, once he’s served you and himself two good plates of pancakes. He’s sitting in front of you, in front of this delicious looking good, yet he’s ogling you with a strange insistence. When he starts eating because you take too long to formulate a response, he munches slowly, still staring, instead of stuffing his face and swallow down the whole thing like a starving man, like he usually does. 

“Yeah. They spoiled me.” You say, quietly. You’re confused. You feel uneasy like there’s something you’re not getting. You hate this feeling. Usually, this friendship is filled with inside jokes you can make up exclusively via telepathy. But here you’re missing something, it feels. Or you might just be confused by the headache and possibly somehow still a bit drunk. 

“Oh did they?” The beam is even wider. You frown, nod, decide that it’s too early and your brain too foggy to try and investigate a confusion that might just be the product of your imagination. 

It doesn’t click then. It doesn’t click the next three times he asks you again, with slightly different formulations if, really, you had fun last night. 

He departs an hour later because he has an appointment with a client, as always leaving some of himself for your guilty pleasure and the marking on your eyelids of that curious grin. That curious mischievous grin. With the crooked shape, the white teeth looking menacing like a wolve’s and the eyebrows arched in suggestion.

How come such an attractive look can be so anxiety-inducing? You’re too fidgety, too confused and concerned to focus on anything. Remnants of the conversation rolling back again and again, trying to make sense of things that probably do not necessitate further explaining. 

The whole ordeal made you so nervous, you end up after an hour of trying to go about your day and failing poorly, sitting on your sofa, lotus style, eyes closed and hands turned up to the universe (hoping It might offer you some clearance It would just drop off in your palms). The thing is meditating is hard. Making so your brain would shut the fuck up is hard as hell. And you suck at it. 

Spoiler alert, you don’t reach the state of inner peace and quiet you wished to find. Instead, you make enough silence for your noggins to be more performing and suddenly it hits. Your eyes grow ten times in size, you almost fall from your sit for the shock is violent.

The moron.

You or him, probably both. 

You

I did NOT use it.

You

I put it away because the girls were coming over but I DID NOT USE IT

He simply replies with a winking emoji and you hate him for it. 

You

Jeon Jungkook, ur a dick I said I wouldnt use it EVER and I won’t, have a nice day moron. 

And again, this time, you mean it. You’ve never said anything with this much conviction in these twenty-five years of living.

Why would you now? When you now have experienced what it felt to have him look at you thinking you’ve done it. It felt mortifying without even knowing why. In all the case scenarios you could have come up with, you’ve never imagined that one. You would use it, he would know about it somehow, he wouldn’t be disgusted (it wouldn’t make sense for him to be as he is the one who offered it to you but your brain and soft ego sometimes are annoying like that), he would be amused, maybe content, but he wouldn't make you feel mortified. 

Having him considering you in a sexual position should be... cool, shouldn’t it? If you really like him that much. Maybe you were confused all along and actually, you don’t, you mistook your own feelings. 

Just a quick check of a mental picture you have of him, the fond smile growing just from his pretty face with the pretty everything on it can’t be trusted because, for all you know, everyone smiles this way when they think about him. On the other hand, the swift blush invading your cheeks when you (by accident) linger on parts you really really like about him -like his thighs or the man titties he’s been growing lately- serve to remind you that yes, yes indeed you like him. 

But he’s an asshole.

No matter how much you thought about it (and you thought about it a lot even though you’re ashamed to admit it), you've never consider it to realize, you never and you still don’t believe anything non-platonic would ever happen with him. You’re just made to be friends. The best of friends but still just friends. 

Not even taking a step but simply dipping the tips of your toes in these unknown waters turns out to be terrifying and you're mad at him because he’s putting you in this situation where you feel awfully uneasy. 

It should all remain a very personal, very intimate fantasy: your attraction for him.

He cracked the wall for a second, it felt wrong and terrible but it’s done and over with now.

It’s only you and your thoughts. 

You don’t ever mention it, he doesn’t bring it back up. Soon the season of celebrations and wishes is behind you, the world starts rolling slowly, boringly so with its lots of little annoyances and distractions and you’re not even thinking about it anymore, neither is he. 

You’re stressed out. Work is being a bitch as it does. And because it sucks most of your time and patience, the only quick way to unwind you know comes to play. 

But the hassle is not worth it. Unfortunately this you always need to realize afterwards. After having searched the internet for good masturbatory content for half an hour, working yourself for two hours and then, there’s the safety wee and the freshening up before bed, to wake up the next morning feeling like shit because of course, you sacrificed hours of sleep for an unsatisfactory outcome.

It’s not worth it.

It hasn’t been for months. Even if you’re still more able to take care of yourself and pleasure yourself better than most if not all men you’ve ever been with, something is missing: a man (or maybe just a dick). 

You feel bored and empty (in both senses). Stuck because the more you need to unwind, the more you try, the less you feel better. 

It’s the snake biting its own tail. 

Until a certain pretty blue box, sleeping inside your bedside table, recalls itself to you. It feels like a century had passed since the box arrived in your life, it doesn’t seem as scary as it used to, as stressful. The fact that Jungkook hasn’t mentioned it, might even has himself forgotten about it, help immensely. 

And it is the very moment, you forget to remember about this promise you made to him and yourself, the promise that you would not use it. 

Right about now, not only stressed and annoyed by everything but also horny for no particular reason, this dildo with the box that matches your planner sounds ideal. 

And it is ideal.

Feels like exactly what you needed. The size is not ridiculously big, it’s fairly tiny actually but given you haven’t had sex in a while, it suffices to stretch you out just fine. It’s new and exciting. The texture feels really nice, smooth, slipping perfectly right between your walls. It’s rather long, slightly curved, filling you in deep and teasing the spot that you could never even dream of reaching with your short ass fingers. And in no time (and you actually regret that) you’re on cloud 9, it’s a thought of the Santa that brought this blessing of a gift in your life that sends you there. You feel satisfied, content, fulfilled from the tip of your hair to your toes, smiling like an idiot because damn, that was a good orgasm. 

Right this moment, you feel fine about using the present. About quickly having thought about him too because it’s not that much of a big deal. He won’t know about it. He doesn’t really seem to care about your sex life anymore (which is, ironically, a blessing). Therefore why should there be a problem? Why would there be?

Apparently, you’ve underestimated the crankiness of your attitude for the few weeks that passed before the phenomenal orgasm. 

Apparently, you had been the worst kind of truculent bitch there is, to a level you didn’t even know you could reach (also no one told you!), because when Jungkook meets up with you, maybe after the third or fourth times of having used your lovely new companion, he noticed something has changed. Instantly. 

“What’s going on?” He asks with a bright smile and excited shiny eyes as if he expects you to have great news to share. 

“Nothing special...” Tilting your head to the side, you drag the words out as you try to think about it for a second, wondering if there’s something that needs to be told.

“Really?” He sucks on his banana yoghurt with eyebrows frowned, staring at you as if he’s studying you. Once the thing is empty, he tosses it in a nearby bin, crosses his arms on his chest and glares. He looks like a detective about to interrogate you. He would look intimidating if it were not for his lips, sucked in to gather the last taste of his yoghurt. “You look awfully happy.”

“Do I?” It makes you smile, shrug your shoulders. It doesn’t hit just then. It should be fine. He can’t unravel something that you don’t even have knowledge of, can he? But Jungkook is a little weasel. He loves to know everything.

Especially when it’s about you. 

“You better not be seeing anyone-“ You should wonder where this is coming from, all of a sudden. Instead, you take offence, how dares he?

“What do you mean ‘I better’? I do what-“

“Without telling me? You better not.” He has that shit-eating grin, his signature brat's smile, because he knows you can’t reach over the table to smack him in the head without risking to tip over your drinks or dip your sleeve in soja sauce. 

“Anyway. Nothing's going on.” For a second, a staring contest takes place on this convenience store's terrace. You’re not sure why. He’s daring you for no reason. Until his mouth twitches, wanting to smile and it makes you laugh so he follows along. “Were you not supposed to tell me about your next appointment?” 

“Client Amy, yes!” It shouldn’t make you laugh to hear him name her like that as it’s been his trademark to mention his clients as if they were Pokémon trainers but it does.

You’ve always thought that it’s his very personal way of living this childhood fantasy of existing within the Pokémon universe. His life is full of potential trainers. Most of the time it’s just Client Enter the Name here but sometimes it’s Baker Jin -who’s not actually a baker but a salesman at his neighbourhood’s bakery-, there’s Dancer Hoseok, who’s the main dance partner of his best friend and Roommate Park Jimin. Sometimes he calls you Friend Y/N, it’s frustratingly funny. You hate that you spill at least a nose snort at each and every single one of his stupid jokes. His grin always grows ten times bigger, his eyes twinkle in a lovely way but you know that you are encouraging him. Encouraging him to be fucking annoying, like a little brother who’s just pushing unfunny jokes too far, just keep repeating them because he knows he can get a reaction. “She wants me to tattoo the dragon from Spirited Away on her arm-“

You gasp and he smiles even wider. 

“I know, right? And I was thinking- to give it flow, I would have it- like fly through cherry blossoms.” Attentively, you listen, squinting a bit when he gets technical to try and picture the project you have a hard time making up alone in your mind.

Imagination and creativity have always been his thing. He had you impregnated with it long ago because he is too passionate and too much of a sharer to allow you to keep away from all arts -because you can’t hold a pencil straight without panicking at the idea of having to draw something- which you would have gladly done if it weren't for him. He’s the gifted one. And his drawings, either on paper, screen or skin, have always been a subject of huge admiration for you. You’re a bit ashamed to admit it but you’ve never really touched to anything really artistic. You often don’t really get it. But his stuff does something to you -and not only because you adore him but actually impartially. There’s no finesse, no pertinency, no trait nor emotion you’ve acknowledged and connected to better than the ones he creates. “You know this scene where he’s struggling against the little paper thingies and he’s flying through them and they’re going everywhere, I was thinking that, replace them with cherry blossoms. And there would be little petals like everywhere around it. Sounds cool?”

“It sounds fantastic.” You say honestly. You’re impressed by every single one of his projects. Always surprised, somehow, by the pieces he ends up making. Sometimes scrolling through the Instagram page he uses as a book, where he publishes his most elaborated, most expensive pieces and while recognizing his touch, the delicacy in his traits, the peculiar curls of certain lines, the overall feel to them, there’s always this sort of paradoxical disbelief. How could this kid make these and at the same time, who else but him to have made these?

Cute nose scrunches up. 

“I’ll send you my drawings when I’m done with them.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” He is mimicking you. Same pose with the head nod and the leg cross. Same tone and same expression apart from the discreet light dancing in his eye. “So what’s up? You needed to talk to me about something yesterday, didn’t you?”

It takes a second for you to remember as the drastic change in your mood makes it seem the distressed text you sent him yesterday, right when you left work, was written a whole week ago. You don’t remember very well having felt so stressed and pissed off, pushed to your very limits by useless co-workers, that you felt the urgent need to rant about it all, vent your anger and frustration out to him. He was busy and didn’t answer right away. You got home, find the comfort of your sweater sitting on the warm heater and the glorious stand of your dildo and it all went away, bad mood, headache, grudges. 

Of course, it awakes a wave of shame within you. If you have been able to use it without feeling guilt nor embarrassment on your own, it’s something else to think about it in front of Jungkook. You’ve made sure not to think about this dildo in front of him ever. But here, it’s him recalling it to you without even knowing. 

Whatever, you can pretend that everything’s normal. With a barely natural cough, and the even more suspicious dismissive wave of the hand, you try to kill the conversation, “It was just my coworker getting on my nerves again, it’s whatever.”

Jungkook is watching you soundly. It’s nothing unusual for him. He’s the kind of persons that lean in when they listen to you, you never know how conscious they are of it but it’s like they really mean to make you feel important and heard. Therefore it shouldn’t worry you, he’s just doing his usual thing. 

It still makes you grow increasingly more nervous. 

It is factual that it is never “whatever”. The topic of your stupid dumb bitch of a coworker messing with you has always been a pressing subject you, every now and then, more often than you’d like, needed to ramble about to anyone willing to listen because she tended to make your life a pure living hell. The job sucks in itself but she made it a hundred times worse. And here you are, dismissing it. How suspicious. 

“When you texted me yesterday, I thought it was for something bad.” He starts, frowning and staring deep inside the empty cookie package sitting on the table. “Then I saw you earlier and I thought it was for something really good, because of your face.”

“What’s up with my face?” You try to play it cool. Play it nonchalant and oblivious. If you can’t see the aura of contentment he can visibly observe around you, surely you’ve seen the glow up your skin has encountered since you’ve started using this sex toy. Unexpected benefit of using it that wasn’t even listed on the box, the stress it’s relieved and the pleasure it’s given have just cleared your skin out. Unbelievable but true. And apparently, he noticed. 

“I don’t know. You look really... contented.”

“Contented?”

“Yeah...”

You shrug, looking down, at the crumbs on your side of the table, praying silently that the embarrassment you feel creeping up your face doesn’t show. “I’ve been used to you looking tired and all but you look-“ Like every single once of misery has been fucked out of your system. “Lately, you look... good.” The chosen adjective makes you tilt your head. For so many reasons, you didn’t expect to hear this one and for similar reasons, you don’t understand what he means. Without having you saying aloud anything, he gets your dubious grimace and chuckles, “Rejuvenated, actually.” Even worse.

To simplify in a few words, you used to look like an old decrepit hag and now that you’ve been thoroughly fucked -by yourself technically but still- you look rejuvenated. A word literally no one ever uses in real life.

You detest that he’s probably right. And now, embarrassment is not creeping but actually moving in, with all its stuff and luggage. Hopefully though, again, it doesn’t show on your stupid youthful face. “Are my compliments making you blush?”

Great. 

“You can’t make me blush, moron. And if you think those were compliments then-“ You give him big wide eyes of “well fuck” and of course he laughs at that. 

“Indeed, I can’t make you blush.” He has his serious, investigating type of expression again. You almost expect him to fetch a little notebook out of his pocket and start scribbling observations while asking you more questions. 

“What’s making you blush then?”

“I’m not blushing, it’s just hot.” His eyebrows jump in a rude disagreeing curve. You don’t get why. It can happen, to be hot outside, at the near end of Korea’s winter, while simultaneously having red and painful looking fingers on the verge of congelation desperately seeking warmth in your pockets. 

And maybe because it’s not the first time, he’s getting better at catching the signs, at drawing the lines in between the clues. Your caricatural post-orgasm happy face, your systematic defensiveness whenever the conversation is leading somehow to your sexuality, the blatant tell of shame on your cheeks when there’s nothing else ever that embarrass you in front of him. There’s only the common cause missing and quickly, ignoring completely your attempts at diverting the conversation on something else, a giant light bulb turns on on top of his head. It brings the light of understanding through his eyeballs who suddenly look extra bright. 

“You used it.” For a second, you consider packing up your things and just leave this fucking terrace along with the conversation. But you’re cold as fuck, the way home seems like too much torture to be going through alone.

Why are you like this?

Maybe there’s a vain hope that it will lead to some resolution. Some pleasant resolution. Maybe he won’t talk about it ever again if you just accept to have this conversation without showing the stubborn reluctance you’ve used each time. 

“Yes, I did. So what?” His grin is blinding. It’s one of the very very wide, very very bright ones. So wide it shows all his teeth and it doesn’t even look like the cute bunny smile anymore. It’s the predatory grin. It’s intimidating to solely focus on therefore you chose to pick the corner of his eyes and the top of his nose, all wrinkled up that have anything but intimidation to them. 

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” You grimace. Indeed. You have no idea because you don’t even fucking understand. 

“You’re a weirdo.”

“I’m just happy you used my dildo.” You scoff and almost choke at both his phrasing and the way he so naturally says the word while you’re outside. There’s no one as dumb as you to sit outside with this weather but still, someone passing by could hear. 

Maybe there’s no deep further explanation to look for. Maybe it’s literally as simple as him getting you a present and him being happy that you found usefulness to it. Like most people. People are saddened sometimes pissed when they flop with presents. Maybe it’s that simple. 

“Don’t say it like that.” He cackles like a witch and you know, that once again he’s just messing with you, knowing exactly what to do or say to tickle your patience. 

“So I can gather it was good?” The worse of the nervous wave has passed. He asks quite nonchalantly. Perhaps it’s your ego wanting that but you hate the idea that you’d find yourself in a situation where he’s clearly more adult than you -even if on so many levels he is. If he can talk about it then you can. Try. You can try. 

“Hm. Was nice.” You kind of sound the way you do when as a teen your mom would ask you about your day and you just didn’t want to answer because of laziness, lack of interest, lack of willingness to share, but that will do. He nods, smiles with his lips tight, rather fondly. 

“How many times did you use it?”

Taking a deep breath, you mumble, shrugging faux casualness, “A few times.” More like a dozen times but he doesn’t need the details, does he? He nods again, still smiling, taking in your answer. 

“Cool.” And he’s satisfied. With the answer and the turns of events as it seems.

There you go, you did it.

You resolved the thing.

Now he can leave you alone with your fantasies and your -not his but your- dildo and there wouldn’t be any further occasion to bring it up. You might be a coward but it’s perfectly fine by you.

Sounds absolutely peachy.

If he chooses to play his part right.

A/N: oh myyy, we’re getting somewhere arn’t we? i really hope you enjoyed this part, let me know your thoughts, scream your frustration, i’m all ears (or eyes). next update will be a double one because the first part is quite short. hoping you’re excited. i wish you a beautiful sunday and a lovely week. take care, lots of lots love.

Tag list: @infernal-alpaca​ @kaepjjangiya​ @channiespup​ @jinsonaz​ @kpopfandomftw​ @ggukkieland​ (sorry love)

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, PLEASE ASK IN THE COMMENT, THANK YOU :))

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ggukienet #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkok smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #my writing

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

A Girl Like You

AO3 Link

Pairing: Little bit of Wolffe x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You end up having a lightsaber sparring match with Anakin and the clones watch on from the sidelines. Wolffe admires the view.

Warnings: 13+, Wolffe eyeing up the reader.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at writing some sort of battle scene, I hope I pulled it off alright. This is mostly a fic about the Dathomiri/Mandalorian reader in order to help me practice writing battles, but I have thrown in Wolffe being cheeky because I couldn't resist. Any feedback is always appreciated, as are reblogs! Fic is below the cutoff, thanks very much for reading x

You’re not entirely sure how you got yourself into this situation. You’d been sitting among a few members of your battalion, the 104th, along with General Skywalker, Commander Tano, the usual suspects from the 501st and a few of the Coruscant Guard commanders, getting yourselves ready to head out for a night out among the lower levels of Coruscant. While you’d been waiting for the last few stragglers to get some fresh armour on before heading out, Anakin had somehow dragged you into some pissing contest about lightsaber designs and which were the most effective in combat. You carried a double bladed weapon, and Anakin had been poking you about how ineffective he’d found them to be in battle. You know he was just trying to get a rise out of you and you hated that it worked.

So that’s how you ended up here, with the challenge of a sparring match presented to you by Anakin. He wanted to test his theory as to what weapon was superior in battle.

“Loser buys the first round at 79’s for everyone” The General suggested. You looked around, there must be at least twenty of you heading out tonight, would your credits even cover that?

“You’re on.” Guess you could always get a few waters and lie to the men. Fox could probably do with a slow start to the drinking anyways.

The three Jedis present used the force to clear some tables out the way, creating a space for the fight. Ahsoka outlined some rules before the event began, which were; no force use on each other, no dirty tricks and please don’t actually hurt each other. Should the latter happen, at least they had Kix there ready to fix them up, even if he was supposed to be off duty.

Once the space was cleared, you got up from your spot amongst the Wolfpack who were hyping you up like you were some pay-per-view sports person about to head into the ring. The 501st boys were cheering for Anakin as Rex gave him a pep talk before sending him off into their makeshift battle arena.

The two of you took your spots opposite each other. You were both still wearing your usual battle clothes, just clean alternatives. Anakin’s fresh, dark coloured robes were neatly wrapped around him, his growing hair hanging just above his eyes as he readied himself for the fight.

You yourself were in a form fitting grey and white jumpsuit which flared slightly at the leg. The sleeves were short, showing off the grey Dathomiri markings on your arms which were dotted across your fair Mandalorian skin. Your whole ensemble was finished off with a single, battle-worn shoulder piece which carried the Wolfpack insignia. Your short blonde hair was in it’s signature half up, half down look, keeping it out of your way.

You both readied yourselves and your eyes met. You could feel the confidence radiating off of him and you knew exactly why. Despite being the same age as Anakin, you were still a Padawan under Master Plo. However, from your Master’s recent suggestions, that wouldn’t be the case for long.

You took a moment to calm yourself. Remembering your training, you let the audience disappear until it was just the two of you. You opened your eyes and readied your lightsaber. You took the handle and held it out in front of you, the space for the two blades coming out either side of your grip. You clicked the weapon on and it buzzed to life. Two green blades in perfect unison. You twirled the weapon around your fingers, pulling it to your side as you got into your initial stance. Leaning back on your right bent leg, your left outstretched in front of you, one half of your weapon inches away from the right side of your head, ready to go.

Anakin had done the same and with some flare, had gotten into his stance. You were both ready.

“After you, Skyguy” and with that, Anakin took the first lunge. You brought your lightsaber up just below your chin, holding it sideways to block his straight swipe down across your head. Your faces inches apart before you both pushed off of each other and started stalking around in a circle, waiting for who would make the next move.

An unspoken understanding in the air between you both, the knowledge that you could push each other to your limits, in a way the Jedi wouldn’t normally encourage in training. The thought sent a slight thrill through your body, you always went into every battle with utmost control, always trying to be a model Commander. You always had to prove to the council that you weren’t a threat, that you could the resist the dark side that came so naturally to your kind. But right now, for the first time, you could really let loose and trial your power with Anakin as you knew he’d be doing the exact same.

The tension in the room was thick, the focused stares between the Jedi entrancing everyone present as they danced around one another.

You both rushed to the centre of the space, sabres clashing right in front of your faces. A cyan glow lit up your features, both sporting wicked grins. The power you both held evident among the spectators. You thought you heard a few gasps from the crowd, but all your focus was directed at the Knight in front of you. His feral smirk held as he spoke from behind the clash of your weapons. “Don’t get too flustered now, I know I look great under blue light”

“Don’t flatter yourself, General” You chuckled as you pushed off each other. Stalking once more.

When you clashed again, it was all a blur. Hit after hit. He was relentless. Your weapons created a bright light show as you kept up with Anakin’s offensive. He pushed you further back, the wall behind you growing closer. You blocked his next hit and took a moment to plan. He was getting confident, too confident. You could use that to your advantage.

You ducked below his next swing and went for his legs, causing him to do a backflip back to the centre. Finally, some breathing room. Now it was your turn to go on the offensive. You charged forward and restarted the fast pace. Delivering blow after blow to Anakin’s defence. Your double blades keeping him on his toes as you made sure to never favour one side of your weapon.

You were both high from the strength you put on display, you don’t remember the last time you let loose like this. You were both sweating slightly, grinning at the enjoyment of such a challenging fight. One strike from Anakin had you swinging your lightsaber over you shoulder to guard your back, as you blocked a particularly dirty move from the General. From the sidelines, you heard Ahsoka reprimanding her Master and reminding him that this was only a sparring match. You raised your eyebrow at the General who just shrugged, still sporting a confident smirk on his face. It was on.

—————

The clones were mesmerised. Of course they’d seen their Jedis fight hundreds of times in battle, but they never had the time to just watch and appreciate. The pair were so different, where Anakin was like a controlled tornado, skill and strength on the brink of being unleashed. Your approach was measured, plotting, more like a slow song building up. Every move you made was calculated, as if you were playing a game of chess.

Wolffe couldn’t help but appreciate the view as you lunged an attack at Anakin. You and Wolffe had been fighting alongside each other for years now but he’d never really seen you like this. Your orange eyes sharp, body tense, feet light as you danced with Anakin. Green and blue clashing. Your moves so smooth and flowing into one another yet contrasted by displays of dangerous power, reminding him of the waters back on Kamino. You looked incredible and he couldn’t help getting pulled into the atmosphere, cheering alongside the rest of his brothers. There was a new feeling in his chest as he watched you battle. Their Jedi. His Jedi.

He continued to stare as the fight raged on. He bloomed with pride when his eyes found your Wolfpack insignia on your shoulder, which perfectly matched your battalion colour-scheme outfit. Speaking of, his eyes couldn’t help themselves as they drifted along your body, finding all the places where that jumpsuit hugged your small curves just right. The way your toned arms strained as you swung your weapon. The way your skin markings lead beneath the v-neckline you’d left at the front of your jumpsuit from the zipper, teasing almost. You were a vision. Maker get ahold of yourself. He shook his head, as if it would clear the racy thoughts from his mind. It didn’t.

Back at the event, there were lulls and peaks in the fight, moments where you were studying each other and others where your lightsabers were in near constant contact as you fought to keep up with the other’s moves.

“You’ve got this General, take her down” Jesse shouted from his position in the sidelines.

“Commander, kick his ass!” Boost piped up in your support.

———————

The crowd getting involved seemed to spur Anakin on further, your next clash resulted in him being able to swing your lightsaber from your grasp. Kriff. Suddenly you felt the tell-tale heat radiating off his weapon onto your throat, only a few millimetres separating them. The 501st were cheering in support of their General while Anakin looked over to his adoring fans, soaking up the praise. You just smirked from your defenceless position.

“You shouldn’t get so cocky, General” you stated casually, pulling him out of his moment.

“What?” Before he could react, you knocked his weapon away from your chin as your right leg hooked around the back of his and sent him sprawling onto his back. You used the force to grab his weapon as you went to kneel on his chest, his own lightsaber now readied towards his throat.

The crowd watched on in shock for a few seconds before the Wolfpack jumped out their seats and started cheering. You’d officially just defeated The Chosen One in a sparring match.

You chuckled at their reactions and Anakin’s pout before helping the General up. You returned his weapon and watched as he stalked back over to his battalion, his pride in tatters. Looking over at your own squad, Comet and Boost were winding up Jesse and Fives over how their Jedi was superior.

As you made your way back over the 104th troopers jumped on you chanting “Wolfpack! Wolfpack! Wolfpack!” some of them even started howling. You just laughed and pushed them off you.

“You’re such dorks” you chuckled, ruffling Sinker’s hair as he walked back to his seat.

“I believe you dropped this sir” Wolffe came over and extended your weapon out to you. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to retrieve your weapon from wherever it’d be thrown in a fight.

“Thank you, Commander” you said with a smile. You were both standing slightly away from the others who were still teasing the 501st, with help from Commander Thorn. Wolffe had a strange look on his face, like he was contemplating something.

“You looked good out there” he piped up, his usual bravado replaced with something more unsure. However, his walls were back up before you could tell what it was.

“You telling me I look good, Wolffe?” You teased, hoping to wind him up a little bit.

“Maybe I am” he replied with a smirk, his eyes giving you a once over boldly in front of you. You blushed at the sudden attention. Well this was new.

“You two Commanders done flirting or can we go now? There’s a free round waiting for us!” Ahsoka shouted from across the way.

You and Wolffe looked at each other for a moment longer before you chuckled and nodded your head in the direction of the exit. “We should head off”.

As you walked side by side with the clone Commander, you thought back to the way he looked at you. There was something in his eyes, admiration, maybe even want? You couldn’t tell, but you definitely wanted to find out. Maybe a few drinks would loosen him up enough to see what was going on in that handsome head of his.

Back to Masterlist

#clone wars #star wars #commander wolffe x reader #clone wars fic #star wars fic #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #commander fox #commander thorn #comet #boost #sinker #master plo koon #501st #jesse #fives

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Lunch Date

Prompt: Any fandom / any pairing / “i love you.” “i love you, more.” “no, you don’t.” “yes, i do.”

Word Count: 977

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (David Shaw/Angel)

Rating: G

Triggers: NA

Summary: David has a surprise for his Angel but Angel needs to hear those 3 magic words before they get out of bed.

ConCrit: Y

My first ever fill for the Fall Into Fall Festival! I’m hoping to write as many oneshots as I can before the end of November! Well, more than my friend anyway. We have a little bet going on; loser has to buy the winner lunch! 

So wish me luck! 

-

For all their boundless energy, playfulness and a Roomba spinning out of control for thoughts, Angel is quite a workaholic.

It's one of their many mysterious hidden sides when David caught them spending a whole Sunday finishing up miscellaneous work reports, documents and presentation slides for next week.

David would've praised their work ethic if it weren't for the ridiculous amount of colourful hair clips pinning their bangs up and wearing nothing but their favourite underwear and his favourite hoodie as they stared back at him. Like a deer caught in the headlines.

That turned out to be a weird Saturday for the both of them.

Anyway, long story short, despite their wackiness, Angel take their career very seriously. Which is why their announcement to have a day off next week is a welcome surprise.

"You've been working hard lately," David commented during dinner. It's Angel's night to cook, and they decided on a simple Japanese cold soba topped with salted okras, grated white radish, cut-up dried seaweed and a side of mushroom miso soup. It's delicious and - most importantly - healthy, so David rewarded his Mate with a kiss on the forehead before they tucked in. "You deserve a break. So what day did you set for your leave?"

Angel mixed their bowl as if it had personally offended them before replying. "Friday and Monday, so I don't have to deal with the blues." They answered before loudly slurping their noodles. David fondly scoffed and polished his bowl of miso soup. Their night ended peacefully.

It's Friday today. Angel's off day from work. His Mate promises not to cause too much of a mess or trouble at home while David's out. In return, David promises to call them as much as he can between managing new clients and sorting out the paperwork. Angel easily gives him two thumbs up and sees his off.

David's day had been going on without a hitch. Asher and Milo manage the teams needed for their new clients, Christian helped him sort out the banking documents, and for the rest of the morning, David got in touch with a representative of the Department to update them on his Pack well-doings.

When the sun reached its peak in the afternoon, David decided to pop home for a bit. It'll be nice to bring Angel out for lunch with him.

"Angel?" David called out, closing the door behind him with his foot. The house is quiet. There's no sound of rushing water from the kitchen's sink. No sound coming from the TV in the living room. So Angel must be in their bedroom.

True to David's suspicion, Angel is having their midday nap. As soon as he catches a good look of his Mate sprawl out on their bed, his heart soften in ways that only Angel could bring. Even with drool running down from their open mouth.

Ever so gently, David brushes his knuckle against Angel's warm cheek. Sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, basking his Mate in warmth. David is suddenly reminded of Milo's cat, Aggro, basking in the sun when he and Asher came over to his apartment last week.

"I'm home, Angel." David wakes them up softly. Loathe as he is to wake them up, he has a surprise for them.

Angel groan and attempt to curl into a ball. " Davey...?"

They look so soft and adorable that David can't help but gives in and kiss their forehead. Angel sleepily hum, pleased.

"Rise and shine, Angel. We're going on a lunch date."

Angel yawns and rubs their eyes. "Ok, Davey. Let me just wash up and get change. What time do you have to be back in the office?"

"Not for another three hours," David replied after quickly checking his phone for the time. "Plenty of time for us to go to that restaurant you love so much. So come on, get up." He then lightly slaps Angel's ass to get them moving, but as expected, they just giggle.

"Not until you say the magic word!"

David groans at his Mate's antic, but Angel refuses to budge. "C'mon, Davey... please? Pretty please?" They plead with puppy eyes; Angel's ultimate move and David's ultimate weakness.

"Alright, alright. You win, you snot." David pretended to huff in annoyance, but they both knew otherwise. "I love you. So very much, Angel. You don't know how brighter my... my world is the moment you decide to make yourself at home in my heart." His voice drips with nothing but sincerity and all the feelings he has for his one and only Mate. David might have trouble letting his walls down from time to time, but when it comes to his Angel? They deserve nothing but complete honesty from him.

Angel's eyes are wide at David's words. Clearly, they didn't expect such a raw confession out of the blue, and David secretly relished being able to surprise them. So David smirks when Angel presses their red face onto the pillow in a poor attempt of hiding. "Well, I love you more! So there!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

David just rolls his eyes, knowing that their banter could go on and on if he doesn't put a stop to it. "Alright, alright. You had your little validation, now can we please get a move on already? I'm getting hungry, and I know you do too whenever you wake up. I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd assumed my Mate has a black hole for a stomach."

Angel laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound that David has ever heard. It never fails to make his heart skip a beat. They then roll off the bed, quickly capture a sneaky kiss from David and hurry into the bathroom before David can tackle them.

Oh, he's so going to make them pay back tonight.

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #david shaw #angel (listener)

[feral-dumbass]

F*ck Me

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: Bucky loses a bet and has to wear a maid dress. Neither of you expected you to be so into Bucky wearing it.

Includes: Bucky in a maid costume, Knife kink, ripping of clothes, Bondage, unprotected sex, brief mention of Bucky being turned on by glasses, Beefy!Bucky, use of vibrator (sharing of it too), manhandling, overstimulation (Possible dub-con because of it), dirty talk, unprotected sex, size kink, choking (with the metal arm)

Words: 4,103 

A/N: Happy New Year! I finally actually finished a WIP. Bucky does wear a maid dress, so if you know me in real life, no you don’t. I just wrote a crack fic. Didn’t I? Title Credit to Vernon Jane. Tagging my friends @babybluestan​ @gagmebucky​ @heresyoursnackdumbass​

Masterlist

It started off with a bet. Who could beat Thor at armwrestling? Cocky egos and bored minds don’t mix well. Quill and Steve both lost. Most men that weren’t gifted with super strength didn’t need that question answered. Bucky decided to join in on the camaraderie. Besides, if Steve lectures Bucky team bonding one more time, he’s gonna lose it. 

Everything was fine until Tony couldn’t stop talking. Out on a personal vendetta ever since you and Bucky took Stark’s Audi out for joyride and put the most miniscule dent on the hood, Tony suggested more than money. If Bucky lost, he’d have to follow Thor around in a maid’s costume at the next compound party with the team and vice versa. Thor and Bucky were already sitting across from each other at the table when Tony announced it. It was too late to back out now. With Clint cheering on the statement and Steve starting to mother hen, Bucky said fuck it. Thor even let him use his bionic fucking metal arm. How bad could it be? 

Bucky was wrong. Bucky was so very wrong. Never make a bet about strength with a God. The gears and plates of his arm buzzed from the tension underneath the sound of the men choosing their sides and cheering them on. Even though Bucky put up a good fight, he lost and probably needs to kiss Tony’s ass to make sure the processors are still functioning. Thor has a good grip.

The package arrived at your doorstep Thursday, just in time for the party on Friday. You were the one to place it on the kitchen table. You were sympathetic to Bucky’s predicament after a good laugh. The offending package sat there for the next twenty-four hours, Bucky avoiding it like the plague. It’s not that Bucky hates it per say, it’s just a clothing item for fuck’s sake. He just hates the fact he’ll never hear the end of it.

 He expresses the same fact exactly to you as he tears open the package in the bathroom. He tries on the maid dress while you wait patiently for him on the bed. Bucky manages to zip himself and stare at himself in the mirror. Bucky sighs at the sight. For a genius, Stark is really bad at guessing sizes. Bucky is practically busting at the seams. “Damnit.”

“Aww. C’mon out, Bucky. I’m sure it’s not-” You try to assuage Bucky as your eyes never leave the latest gossip magazine of the Avengers. At the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, you look up. Momentarily stunned, you forget your words. Magazine long forgotten. “Oh- oh my god.” 

“I know. This feels indecent.” Bucky crosses his arms underneath his chest and your mouth waters.

“No, Bucky, not in that way.” You didn’t expect Bucky to look this good in frilly black and white. The bands of the poofy sleeves strain against his bulging biceps. The bust also straining against his pecs. The dress is so short the bottom of Bucky’s black boxers peak out. Not to mention, Bucky has his emotional support knife strapped to his thigh. You wish you could be surprised you’d fuck him like this, but then again, he is Bucky Barnes. “It’s not that bad.” You slur your words a bit, still focused on the band stressed around Bucky’s biceps. You lick your lips and suck the bottom one in between your teeth.

“Wait, is this actually working for you?” Bucky ducks down so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. No point in beating around the bush. Act coy and you might never get to see him like this again. 

“Would you judge me if I said yes?”

“A little bit. Yeah.” You shrug. It’s not like the nerd hasn’t asked you to wear glasses while you give him head. Different strokes for different folks. 

“Would you wear it in bed?”

Bucky lets out a surprised laugh and shakes his head. “Keep looking at me like you wanna eat me alive and I’ll wear anything for you.” He strides over to you, pulls your hair so you look up at him, and kisses you with blazing passion. This is fine. You’re more than happy to give Bucky a few minutes of happiness before he spends the whole night brooding. Bucky barely separates from you. “We can skip the party and I’ll wear it in bed for you right now?” His lips brush against yours as you stare at him with heavy lidded eyes. 

“Stark will probably conduct a man hunt and it’s probably best no one see what I have in store for you.” 

“Please, do share your plans.”

“I was thinking we could bring out the nylon ropes. I tie you to the headboard and have my way with you.” Even with his hair half up in bun, pieces of his hair fell out. You tuck a brown piece of his hair behind his ear as he swallows thickly and groans.

“Are you sure we have to go?” You nod as a grin slowly spreads across your face. “Give me ten minutes before we go to my personal hell.” Bucky walks back into the bathroom, trying to fix the growing bulge in his boxers. 

~

The party is going surprisingly well, Bucky being less broody than usual. Turns out when you’re girlfriend promises to ride you into the mattress, your mood lightens. Bucky’s smirk has been laced with secrecy all night. It probably doesn’t help that you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off him, flashing him fuck me eyes everytime he caught you. By the fifth time Bucky caught your eye, Tony had enough. 

“Oh my god, you guys look like your two seconds away from fucking eachother in front of us.” Tony complains. 

Bucky shrugs in all his maid dress glory. “I wouldn’t mind.” Bucky looks to you for confirmation. 

“Uh, hey, no. This isn’t fun anymore. It’s getting weird. You lost your party privilege. Leave before I order both of you a psych eval on Monday.” Tony pretends like Pepper hasn’t told you things three margaritas in. Fine, he can act all pure and mighty all he wants. You’re forced with the knowledge Tony is a good submissive for Pepper. 

“Thank God.” Bucky is ushering you to the elevators before you can say something witty back to Stark. Once in the elevator, Bucky incessantly presses the door closing button.

“Pressing the button ten times doesn’t make the elevator work faster.” The elevator hates you and starts closing as you speak. 

“You were saying?” Bucky backs you up against the elevator and ducks down to kiss you which eventually turns into making out. He lifts you up by the back of your thighs as he deepens the kiss. He moves his kisses down to your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin in between kisses. Pressed in between the wall and Bucky, you’re forced to feel all of him, rutting his quickly hardening bulge into you. You’re like 99% sure Bucky is ready to fuck you in the elevator. Security cameras be damned. It wouldn’t be the wildest place you had sex and you’re about ready to help drop your pants until you remember your plans. You rake your hands through his hair, grab a nice hindfull, and pull, taking his lips off your skin. 

“Bucky.” You whine with a pout of your lips. His eyes track the movement of your spit-shined lips, too entranced to look you in the eyes just yet. “You agreed to let me tie you up and I’m holding you to it.” The elevator dings with the arrival of your floor. 

Bucky smashes his lips against yours for a quick kiss. After he separates, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I spoil you.” It’s his only response before he’s carrying you to the bedroom. 

Managing to make-out with you and kick the bedroom door open, Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed. Your legs are forced to spread wider to accommodate his thick thighs, the knife strapped to him digging into your inner own. 

“You’re wearing too much clothes.” Bucky tugs on your shirt.

“Maybe you should help me with that.” Before you can finish your sentence, Bucky is pulling your shirt up. You finish pulling it over your head, flinging it onto the bedroom floor, as Bucky works on unfastening your jeans. Bucky pauses his task at the sight of bare skin. He groans deep within his chest. So maybe you wore Bucky’s favorite lingerie set, navy blue and semi opaque. You’re even wearing slutty panties to match. You were hoping to get railed tonight even before the maid dress was introduced into your life. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re gorgeous.” His hands travel to your breasts kneading them through the flimsy material. Goosebumps break out underneath Bucky’s calloused touch. His stubble scratches as he kisses the swell of each breast before gently dragging his hands back down to your pants. You duck down to kiss him as he snakes his hand into the back of your pants, squeezing handfuls of ass. “Well, are you ready to be in charge, baby?”

“Please.” You push Bucky on his back and hop off his lap. You slide a chest out from underneath the bed and get out a couple objects of interest including the nylon rope. Bucky moves to the center of the bed as you take off your pants. You crawl onto the bed and Bucky. He meets you halfway for a kiss, his hand on the back of your head. 

“Did ya wear all this just to torment me? Knowing I won’t be able to touch you is driving me crazy.” 

“I will admit I didn’t wear this with bondage in mind. You ripping my underwear off with your teeth is more of what I was thinking, but I’m flexible.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “I’m aware.” With darkening eyes, Bucky lets you maneuver his arms up to the bedpost and tie him to it. Of course, it helps he has a perfect view of your cleavage dangling just a few inches from his face.  Once you’re done tying him up, you kiss his cheek. 

“Remember your colors, baby boy?” You ask him in between kisses on his neck, nipping at the skin. It’s a  line Bucky has used on you so many times and now it’s your turn to use. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your color? These too tight?” You tug on the binds wrapped around. 

“So fucking green. They’re not too tight. Although, I’d be a lot better if you were on my cock right now.” You suck a hickey into his neck. 

“It’s cute you think you’re still calling the shots.” You grind down onto him, your eyes fluttering at the feel of the sweet friction, but Bucky doesn’t need to know that. You blow on the hickey and Bucky shudders underneath you. You sit up to admire your handiwork. His eyes are lust-filled. A hint of a rosy flush decorates his cheeks and chest. Bucky’s arms flex at your incessant grinding. 

“Please, wanna be in you.” He ruts his hips up, adding more friction. You bump into the handle of his knife, reminding you it’s there. You reach behind you and unsheathe the knife. Bucky’s knife glints as you take note of it.

“Tell me, Bucky. Are you invested in your outfit?” 

“Oh my god, please. Destroy it.” He stares up at you with such awestruck devotion. You lift up the skirt and cut through the torso of the dress. Bucky lets out an whorish moan even for him. His chest and abs out on open display and your mouth waters. As much as you loved seeing Bucky in the maid dress, this is fun too. You slowly drag the tip of the knife gently down his abdomen, muscles flexing under the cool touch of metal.The sounds of a rip makes you pause. You check and sure enough Bucky’s bulging metal bicep has ripped through the band of the dress. 

“Holy shit, I love you.” You smash your lips onto his for a messy kiss. Bucky is more than eager to slip his tongue into your mouth. You pull away when you need to breath and work on Bucky’s sleeve. The previous rip already making the cheap material easy to shred. You make the rip reach the slice you made and use the knife for the other sleeve. You put it back in it’s sheathe. Bucky maneuvers to the best of his ability so you can pull the maid dress out from underneath him. You pull his boxers down. His red and leaking cock hit his stomach. You grab the vibrator off the edge of the bed and turn it on it’s lowest setting. You drag the vibrator up and down the underside of his cock. He shouts out, muscles tensing at the stimulation. Just as quickly as you were touching him, you’ve stopped. You move the vibrator off him as you grin, bringing the vibrator to your clit through your slutty panties. You lose yourself in the vibrations before Bucky speaks out gruffly.

“Watch it, sweetheart. Whatever you do to me, I can do to you.” Your response is to turn up the setting on the vibrator and moan out. “Oh, c’mon, don’t you want my dick?” He rocks his hips up. “You can act like a tease all you want, but we both know you love leaking with my cum. You just love being filled to the brim as I fuck you through both of our orgasms.” You whimper out his name. “Yeah, honey, you were made to take this cock. Do such good job of it too. C’mon, please. Jus’ wanna feel you cum around me. That stupid piece of plastic can’t make you cum as hard as I can.” You thought you were slut for Bucky Barnes and that was before you heard his gravely begging underneath you. A whole new wave of want rushes through your veins and your shutting off the vibrator. Your hand pumps his dick a few times, leaking so much you don’t even need lube to touch him. 

“Fuck!” Bucky repeatedly chants as you finally grab the base of him and slide him into your entrance, panties pushed to the side. Bucky is gargantuan. He always is at the first slide. Your walls need a few seconds to accommodate him. During the time, Bucky’s muscles tense as he pants. He can’t do anything, but feel you. No outlet for the pent up energy he’s been harboring. He is literally so pretty, you can feel a heartbeat in your lower muscles. You grind on his dick, testing your limits. He groans. “Baby, I’m gonna you to-.” Bucky’s encouragement is cut off with a deep groan as you lift yourself off Bucky’s cock, tip just outside your entrance, and falling back on it. Bucky can’t stop his curses and groans as you do it again and again, eventually setting a nice pace for yourself. You ride Bucky’s dick in earnest. Closer than you realized with the previous vibrator and his dirty talk, you move in a way that feels good for you. Bucky’s pleasure an afterthought. With a hand pressed against his pectoral, you rock against him. You close your eyes and bite your lip, bringing your other hand to rub your clit.

“Oh my god, are you gonna cum already? How’s my cock feel, sweetheart? Such a cockslut, you’re already close. Look at me.” Bucky rocks his hips up as you drop down, causing you to gasp out his name. “Look. At. Me.” You open your eyes to glare down at him. You hands slides up to wrap around his thick neck. You can feel his racing pulse underneath your fingertips. 

“I swear if you ruin this for me, I’ll-” 

“You’ll what? What will you do?” Bucky waits for a response. You can’t, too tongue tied as your peak gets closer and closer. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good cockslut and cum on my cock.” You double down on your efforts until you’re cumming. Pleasure rolls up your spine. You’re movement falters as you get lost in your orgasm. Before you know it, you’re on your back, you’re supposed tied up boyfriend on top of you.  Bucky picks up your slack, fucking you at a brutal pace through your orgasm. 

“Wait, Bucky. How?” You brain tries to catch up as he gathers your wrists in his metal hand and pins them to the bed above your head. 

“You need to get better at tying, baby. Didn’t even have to break the restraints. They fell apart halfway through.” 

“Fuck.” The word you use is long and drawn out, arching your hips to meet Bucky’s thrusts. Having a supersoldier underneath you to use at your indiscretion was fun, but there truly is something about letting Bucky take the reins, rippling muscles of caged energy pressed against you. Bucky’s thrusts slow as his free hand searches for something on the bed. With a victorious grin, Bucky is turning on the vibrator at a higher setting than you previously had it. He slides it between your bodies to rest on your clit. The flimsy lace of your stretched out panties does nothing to barricade the pleasure. 

“You’ll cum for me, again. Right?” You curse his name, trying to buck away from the vibrator. The vibrations are too much for your sensitive clit. Bucky is persistent, keeping the vibrator pressed against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky. Please. Please. Please.” It’s your turn to repeat words, not exactly sure what your begging for. You just know the pleasure is almost too much. With the combination of Bucky’s girthy cock and the vibrator, it’s not long before you’re coming. Your muscles shake as your orgasm hits you. You moan until your voice runs hoarse. He keeps the vibrator on your clit until your orgasm is done. 

“Love it when you cum. Wish I could be in this pussy all day.” Bucky lets go of your wrist and cups your cheek tenderly. He ducks down for a filthy kiss, tongue included. Your muscles feel weighted, but you manage to match Bucky’s enthusiasm in his kiss. Before you can register it, your brain a little fuzzy from the two orgasms, you’re facing the sheets on your stomach. His cocks slips out during the commotion. Bucky lifts your upper half to lean against him so you’re on your knees, using his own knees to spread them. You head rolls down. 

You share the same qualities as a rag doll right now, joints weak and ears still ringing from your orgasm. Not that it’s stopping Bucky. Facing down, you get to witness Bucky’s angry, leaking, and glistening with your cum erection extending practically past your belly button as he ruts against your sex. Electric shocks are sent to your nervous system everytime Bucky manages to make contact with your clit. Your only thought is you want him to destroy you with his dick as he wraps his metal arm around your neck, head now resting against his clavicle. 

“Remember your colors, baby girl? What’s your color?” Bucky’s voice is in a low, hushed tone. His lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. You eyes flutter shut, hands moving to hold on to his forearm wrapped around your neck. 

“Green.” Even with your hazy mind and heavy tongue, you manage to answer Bucky. He presses a quick, stubbly kiss to your temple before turning his attention to your underwear. 

“These are unnecessary.” He grabs ahold the triangle of lacey material of your underwear and pulls. It doesn’t take much of Bucky’s strength for the strings of your underwear to snap. He throws the offending clothing over his shoulder. He flips his bowie knife out of the sheath strapped to his thigh. Bucky fucked the knife out of your memory. Goosebumps erupt onto your skin as he gently traces the knife’s tip up your stomach to slip underneath the band of your bra. “I’ll buy you a new set.” He says before slicing through the band of your bra with a flick of his wrist.  You gasp out and Bucky slices through the straps too. He flips his knife into the sheath and throws your bra away from you.

“Want your cock, Bucky. Please.”

“How could I say no to such pretty begging? I can’t let the cockslut be hungry for too long, now. Can I?” You can feel Bucky reaching his hand down over your abdomen and then the next thing you know, you’re being filled to the brim with cock. Okay, fuck what you said about the first slide. You’re pretty sure you could cum again at this slide. With your fucked out brain, there is so much of Bucky. Bucky sliding his cock in slow sure doesn’t help either. Bucky groans right next to your ear. It’s almost a sensory overload. You haven’t even registered you’re moaning yourself. Bucky finally- finally bottoms out, giving you time to catch your shuddering breath. “You still with me?” 

You manage to rasp out an affirmative. 

“Good girl.” And then Bucky is pulling out and thrusting in. You manage to get out a curse at the friction before Bucky truly starts to thrust into you. His pace picks up quickly. His powerful thighs slam into your slick ones as he rumbles deep within his chest. You can feel it throughout your whole torso. “Addicted to this pussy. Love how you feel around me.” Bucky moves his right hand to rub your abused clit. You grab ahold of his wrist. Bucky’s too stong to move his hand off your clit. You’re forced to feel the all the pleasure he gives you. 

“Aww, c’mon. You can cum for me one more time.” Bucky tucks his nose behind your ear and kisses underneath it. He changes the angle of his rubs and your thighs start to shake. “There you go, sweetheart. Just one more.” Bucky’s metal bicep bulges making it a little harder to breathe as he thrusts faster. The two previous orgasms make you sensitive.  In just a few meager minutes, you can feel the rise of your orgasm. This orgasm hits you harder than the previous two. The pleasure takes you over in waves. Your thighs shake as Bucky fucks you through it. He moans louder than you sounding like he enjoys you’re orgasm almost as much as you. He finally notices your fingers digging into his skin and stops rubbing your clit. 

“God, baby. I’m so close. Gonna let me use you?” 

You nodd. 

“Say it.”

“Use me. Wanna feel you cum in me.” You rasp out with an even heavier mind. Bucky lets out a whorish moan as his thrusts get even more energetic. It shouldn’t be possible, but then you wouldn’t be dating a super soldier. Within just a few more thrusts, you can feel Bucky flood your insides. He groans as he slows down to prolong his orgasm. Bucky was hot before, but he’s even hotter as he coming. The only thing you dislike about this position is not being able to see Bucky’s abs contract as he cums. You can still feel his abs jump against you lower back. Bucky’s thrusts eventually die down until he’s just bottomed out in you. He takes a minute to catch his breath before he uncurls his arm off your throat, keeping his right hand on your hip to steady you.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he gently slips out and sets you on the bed. 

“Tired.” 

“I know and you can rest in a bit, but we gotta get cleaned up first.” You groan at that. “C’mon, baby. I’ll grab the washcloth.” The smile in Bucky’s voice is prominent as he gets out of bed. You can hear him rummaging around in the attached bathroom as you rest your eyes. You fall asleep before Bucky can bring out the warm wet washcloth. He still wipes you down while you’re half asleep before joining you back in bed.

Bucky will be there in the morning to massage out your sore muscles because Bucky is a good boyfriend. And if you happen to order the same maids dress the next day only to leave it in the exact same spot the previous package was in, Bucky doesn’t bring it up. He just adds it to the back of his closet when you’re not looking.

#the knife stays ON during sex and I think thats the most Bucky thing I’ve ever written #Mel if you’re reading this I failed at making sub!Bucky 😔 #Looks like I'll have to try again #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky/ reader #bucky barnes/ reader #bucky barnes/ you #bucky barnes barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #maybe overstimulation will become my trademark #if this is bad you never read it #my writing

[burndownyourparade]

Dabi x Reader - Crossed My Heart

This literally had zero direction. It’s my first reader insert piece and it has nothing to do with the Olivia Rodrigo song, the lyric was mainly used as a loose prompt inspiration. It’s also been a long as heck time since I’ve sat down and really written anything so oof. But, I do plan on writing some more drabbles here and there. I’ve got Dabi/Touya brain rot bad. So expect a lot of him.

You used me as an alibi. I crossed my heart as you crossed the line.

pairing: dabi x reader (gender not specified)

length: 2k words

genre: angst, fluff if you squint real hard

warnings: mentions of death, the burning at sekoto peak. nothing detailed.

You’d been there. You had watched him go up in flames. The beautiful bright blue dancing across your eyes and you knew you’d never see him again. He’d be lost to you forever, but you promised.

And you were willing to do anything for him. Even if it meant breaking your own heart. 

So when you’d sit up at Sekoto Peak every year after his disappearancedeath you’d curse his name. Curse him for leaving you behind, for not coming back to you. Not even a single sign of if he was okay.. If he was still out there. 

When you’d seen this new villain on the news, just a few years ago, you had an inkling. A thought that maybe it had been him. He talked big about getting back at his father. Dishing back out everything he’d had to endure as a child. And at age 15 when you encouraged him, you never thought it would come to this. 

So today, when you sat up at Sekoto Peak, ten years after the incident, the spiteful, “Fuck you, Touya.” That left your lips didn’t go unheard. 

In all honesty he’d planned on coming clean. He had planned on coming back to you. After all, you were the only person who really meant anything to him. But then he got way too involved with Stain’s cause and the league, there was no way he was going to risk putting you in any danger. If that meant having to write you off, then so be it. 

Eventually you’d find out that Dabi was Touya, eventually you’d know that he was still alive after all these years. No more doubt would cloud your mind, but he had a feeling you’d come to hate him for waiting so goddamn long. 

It was when he’d heard his name, the anger dripping from your sweet voice that had him moving his feet towards you. He wasn’t planning to reveal himself, but he needed to at least try redeeming himself before even thinking of continuing his plan to bring down Endeavor. None of it would have meant anything if he couldn’t come back to you. If he wasn’t going to be able to run away with you like the two of you had planned.

“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone about this.” Touya held your hands in his, begging you. He was tired and run down. Bandages wrapped around his arms from his most recent burns. He didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he was going to fake his death. He was going to run away. 

You stared at him, wide eyed and reluctantly nodded your head to his plea. “Will I see you again?” The fear was evident in your voice and if that quiver didn’t give you away, then the way that your hands shook in his would. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, but you could still see him. You could see his messy white hair fall into his bright blue eyes. You could see the bruise that was forming under the left eye, no doubt a result of training. And you wondered if this was his only solution. If this was really the only way that he’d be able to outrun this.

He could practically feel the pain reverberating off of you, it bounced off of him too. He didn’t want to leave you. But he had no other choice. He was trapped and all he wanted was to make something of himself. To prove to his father and everyone around him that he wasn’t worthless, he wasn’t a lost cause. He could do it, too. He was powerful just like Shoto. 

Touya was torn, he knew that this hurt you… Leaving you hurt him too, even if you couldn’t see it. Even if he was acting selfishly. “Of course.” He nodded, snow white hair moving wildly with the frantic nodding of his head. “I’ll come back for you and we’ll run away.” He promised, you could see the makings of a plan in his head. The way that his eyes moved when he was deep in thought, “We can start a life together. Build a house and adopt all the cats and dogs you want!” His hands moved to your shoulders, shaking you lightly with excitement before pulling you into him. His arms wrapping around you tightly.

He never cried in front of you, but today was different. He didn’t know when he’d see you after today, but he did know he refused to break his promise to you. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“I love you, Touya.” You murmured into his shirt, breathing him in. If this was the last time in a while, then you were going to make the most of it. You tilted your head, looking up at him. Sadness washing over you and feeling your own tears begin to slip. You leaned up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and felt the way his lips turned upwards in a soft smile. An almost dreamy looking flashing across his face. 

“I love you too, (y/n)... I’ll come back for you, I swear.” His hands shifted again, this time to cup your cheeks and bring your lips to his. This kiss was soft and sweet, not unlike ones you’ve shared before but there was a sense of urgency to this one. Almost like he had been trying to convey every single thing he felt for you in this brief moment. He didn’t want to pull away, but when he did he felt your hands tighten around the fabric of his shirt. Just barely hearing your whisper begging him not to go, but he shook his head, gently moving your hands to take a step back from you.

“Please don’t watch…” Touya asked, giving you a gentle shove away from him. “Once you see my flames run… Run and tell someone about the fire and then go home. I’ll see you again soon, I promise.”

You bit your lip and nodded your head, running a safe distance away into the trees. Waiting to watch his flames burn around him. You stuck around a little longer than he’d asked you to, only to make sure that he was safe… That he was still okay. But you couldn’t make out anything other than the heat and Touya’s screams. 

At fifteen your heart shouldn’t have shattered that hard.

He didn’t know how you’d react to this. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was doing. Dabi had never planned on this. He was merely moving on pure emotion now. On things he thought he had forgotten, but when it came to you he was always weak. The only reason his resolve had even broken in the first place was because of how angry you sounded. The villain hated the thought of him becoming nothing to you. Ironic, when he was practically nothing to everyone else.

You stood in the same place where you both had parted ten years ago and he was quietly standing just a few feet behind you. He was uncertain of if he should reach out to you or just turn and run, was this even a good idea? But his feet wouldn’t stop and then his mouth started moving and before he knew it, he was speaking. 

“This Touya guy must have really fucked up, huh?” He cringed, ten years and this was the first thing he was saying to you? Ideally, in his head, whatever he’d dreamt up in his spare time was grandiose plans of sweeping you off your feet. He’d be done with the league, ready to pack up and start brand new. He’d have taken down Endeavor’s credibility and shattered Enji’s entire world. Yeah, that son of his who wasn’t going to amount to anything? He was something now. He was his greatest nightmare and deepest failure. And the consequences of his actions were coming back to bite him in the ass. Then, he’d be there for you. In the night he’d have found you, confessed his deepest feelings and that nothing had changed. Then you’d run away like he promised.

Your fists clenched at your sides, you recognized that voice, of course you did. How wouldn’t you when his promise haunted your dreams every night? His voice was a little deeper, raspier, richer. And for a moment, you hesitated in turning to face him, but when you did you couldn’t stop the way that your heart picked up pace. It was him, in the flesh, Touya was here. But he wasn’t Touya anymore… Not on the outside.

“Yeah, he’s a fucking asshole.” You played along with him. Both of you knew this was just a game, testing the waters to see if anything had really changed. “Promised he’d come back for me, but never showed up.” There was a smile on your face now, a sad one and Dabi felt his heart clench in his chest when he saw it. “Waited ten years for him.” You pressed, watching his reactions.

He deflated, he didn’t have an excuse. He could have come to you sooner and he knew that his whole keeping you safe excuse was bullshit. Dabi was just afraid. He was afraid of what you’d think when you saw him again. Dabi wasn’t Touya. He didn’t look like the boy you’d fallen in love with before. Smooth, pale skin was now rough and charred, the white hair with tufts of red now dyed black and coarse from the years of mistreatment. “I’m sorry.” Was all he could say.

“You could have come to me.” Your voice was soft and he knew that you were hurt. “Why didn’t you come back for me?” The way that your voice cracked made his heart break. He prided himself on being hard, on not allowing himself to feel petty emotions anymore, but unbeknownst to his comrades; you’d always be the only exception.

He was honest with you, “I was afraid.” And it was the first time in ten years that he’d been vulnerable, he was almost ready to run off with you. Dabi was ready to give up on his revenge plot against Endeavor, he just wanted to run away with you. To be just (y/n) and Touya.

“Of what?” You asked, nearly breathless and unbelieving. There was nothing he had to worry about. It didn’t matter who he was now or what he was doing. He would always be Touya to you. A boy who suffered more than he should have. The boy that you were ready to drop everything and run off with. The only boy you had ever loved and would ever love.

“I’m not the same.” He looked at you, uncertain. He still hadn’t gotten any closer to you and his hands twitched with anticipation. It had been so long since he’s held you. Dabi wanted to close the distance, to pull you into him and feel whole again.

“You’re still you.” You countered, shaking your head. You weren’t about to give the villain any room for excuses. He was still him and that’s all he’d ever be to you. You knew that he knew that. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, this time Dabi took a step closer to you. Carefully watching your movements, gauging on if he could move any closer. When there wasn’t any move on your part to shift away from him he took another step. And another.. Another, another, until he was wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. His lips gently touch the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. “Run away with me.”

You returned his touch almost immediately, arms wrapping around his thin middle. Melting into him and letting out a sob of relief, you were home again. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#i am so bad at titles #like so bad #my writing #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #lov x reader #league of villains x reader #reader insert #more tags? idk #dabi brain rot #touya todoroki brain rot #idk i love this man so much #i just want to kiss his crispy face

[wagner-fell]

Mari kicked down the dressing room door with a bang so loud Kevin jumped and spilled his hot coffee cup all over himself. Hearing his yelps of pain, Astrid peaked her head out of the curtain, laughed at his expense then shut it again. Maria ignored that.

They strutted out to where the boys were sitting and struck a pose. “Can I rock cottage core or can I rock cottage core?”

Kit didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded instead. While the baby blue dress with short, ruffled sleeves looked a bit out of place paired with Mari’s bulging muscles, she looked absolutely stunning.

The Merry Hoes were located in the back room of the antique store Kevin’s family owned. The Chu’s just got a large donation of vintage clothing. Mari had just gotten their pay check from the downworlder gym she worked at. Kit and Astrid really didn’t want to do their maths homework. It was destiny.

Despite being downworlders both Blessica and Kevin still lived at home. Mari, though, lived with the rest of their pack in an old Edwardian mansion a few blocks away from school. However the five of them slept over at each other’s place of residence so often they blurred together in the young Herondale’s mind. He could really only tell them apart by their smells.

Mari’s reeked of dirty laundry as they were one of four folks on the feminine side of the gender scale out of the lycanthropy of London, Blessica excluded. Her house smelled like Ube, a type of yam her Filipino parents put in everything. Kit couldn’t complain. Ube flavoured ice cream was the best thing he’s ever eaten. Aside from Mari. Though he wasn’t usually the one… Nevermind.

Kevin’s house smelled of Longjing tea and red wine. A peculiar combination that oddly enough, worked quite well.

Astrid had two homes as her parents divorced at the age of six. Stepping into her mom’s house was like stepping into a cookie factory. Which made sense as her mom owned a bakery and lived above it. Kit didn’t know exactly what Astrid’s dad’s place smelled like, let alone looked like, but he could make an educated guess that it was similar to the Los Angeles Institute because it was in LA too.

After they separated, Miss Yang fled to Devon to dodge the possibility of seeing her ex-husband when they exchanged Astrid. Kit related to her on a deep, personal level.

Now Astrid spent her summers in America and Kit drained his battery on international phone calls.

Her three months in the USA each year helped him bond with her better when they had first been introduced. For example, her ringtone was the Perry the Platypus theme song. Blessica, Kevin and Maria had no clue what it was but when the music reached Kit’s ears, the two sang an epic duet that put Kiss Me More (the second most iconic duet in history) to shame.

“How much is this anyway,” asked Mari, turning in a circle to see if there was a price tag. In the process she sent the fabric fluttering as she went. It made them look more magical than ever.

“There is no price on fabulousness,” said Astrid. She had on loose, black dress pants, a white shirt, and black suspenders with gold blemishes.

“Yes there is,” replied Kevin. “54 euros.”

“54 euros,” exclaimed Mari.

“Well it would have been €34 but you made me spill my coffee and this shirt was 20 so..”

“Seriously, Kev. I will fuck your mom. You think I won’t?” A pause. “Wait, only twenty €20?”

“Oh, I know right! There is this incredible thrift store down on Fleet Street and-”

“Don’t care,” interrupted Mar. She took one last look in the mirror before turning back to him. “I’ll give you your parents' price, not your dramatic ass’s one.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Fine. But it’s an extra €10 for the shoes.”

Mari looked down at her tan sandals. They leaned against the door they just excited to take the footwear off. “Racist,” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m literally Chinese.”

“Homophobic, then.”

“Pansexaul,” he sang.

Mari was silent for a moment before she banged on the door into the room Blessica was changing into her rose pink gown. “Blessie! Do I have permission to call Kev transphobic in your name?”

“Hey,” said Kevin, looking up from his task of rubbing a paper towel across his sheer, white shirt. “That’s cheating. Blessie, don’t listen to them!”

The nickname ‘Blessie’ was what her family exclusively called her. She turned red when they had first found out. Granted, it wasn’t hard to make Blessica blush. All she had to do was stand in Kevin’s general area.

“Blessica,” called Mari once again. When she still didn’t answer, Maria stood up and pressed their forehead against the changing room door. “You okay?”

“No,” Blessica croaked out finally. Her hoarse voice was laced with sorrow. Upon hearing her speak, Kevin abandoned any hope of saving his top and joined Mari at the door. Kit and Astrid were quick to follow.

“Hey,” said Astrid gently. “What’s wrong?”

Blessica began to sob. “The dress doesn’t fit right,” she whimpered.

“That’s okay,” soothed Kevin. “We have other sizes.”

“Kev, it doesn’t fit my body because it wasn’t made for my body. I just feel so ugly.” All the other Merry Hoes made various sounds of distress. Kit was instantly reminded of Dru,

He was suddenly fifteen again. In Ty’s bedroom as he told him of all the times she’d been told she wasn’t pretty by members of the Shadowhunter society. And all the times Emma or Julian or another member of her family had reassured her that she was. The thought occurred to Kit that maybe they weren’t Emma-y as Blessica needed them to be.

“It’s just like,” started Blessica, “I started taking Estrogen seven months ago, you know? And I still don’t have anything to show for it.”

His mind was racing a mile a minute. “Yes you do,” he said.

“I do?” she asked, sounding dubious.

“Your voice!”

“You do have a really nice voice,” agreed Astrid. “You could totally narrate audiobooks or something.”

“No it’s not,” grumbled Kevin.

“Kevin,” said Mari, glaring daggers at him. ‘Kevin’ in this case didn’t mean Kevin. It meant ‘Shut your mouth right or I will actually kill you’.

“No, not like that! It’s just…” he was blushing profusely now. “Her voice is like the rain. Most of the time it’s soft and warm and it wraps you in one big, wet hug. You can’t help but feel, well, blessed to get to feel it touching your skin.. But when it rains hard you feel every single drop land. But no matter what kind of rain it is, the impact is always enormous. Uh, yeah, her voice is like that.” There was a moment of prolonged silence, where Blessica had stopped crying but no one was brave enough to talk.

The door opened and Kit, Kevin and Astrid stumbled backwards. Mari didn’t. Stupid gorgous jock, Kit thought as she survayed her inferiourors.

Blessica stood in the open doorway. Her eyes were puffy and red. The dress looked perfect on her. Not that this style hadn’t looked perfect on Mari but their arms were so thick, they filled up the entire selve. Blessica was so petite you could see her bones clearly through the skin. It highlighted the flowness of the gown extremely well. “You guys like my voice?” Then, “why are you all staring at me, is it that bad?”

“Blessie,” said Mari. “You can’t just put on that in front of four people who like women and expect them not to stare.”

“Respectfully, of course,” added Kit.

“Just tell us if it makes you uncomfortable,” agreed Kevin.

“Step on me,” breathed Astrid.

“But then again,” said Mari, “you validate yourself too.”

“Run me over with a cement truck.”

“We can see your hot as fuck. But more importantly you have to believe you’re hot as fuck.”

“You could literally kill me and I’d get on my knees to thank you.”

Blessica was blushing as hard as Kevin now. They sheepishly smiled at each other before turning away. “Simp,” said Kit and he held out his hand. Astrid dutifully rewarded him with a high five.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am on the trans spectrum but I am not mtf. If you are and you feel misrepresented please feel free to private message me or just leave a comment tell me how I can fix it.

@the-wckd-powers @book-dragon-not-worm @thechangeling @the-blackdale @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @illusions-give-reasons-to-live @shelvesofgold @arangiajoan @maxboythedog @noah-herondale-lightwood @its-taff @cncnbr @sofiatheskeleton @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @adoravel-fenomeno

Let me know if I left anyone out. Also let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.

#The Merry Hoes #Kit Rook #Kit Herondale #mari the werewolf #mari machado #astrid yang #blessica reyes #Kevin chu #dru blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #tsc

[amhrosia]

My Sun, My Moon, My Stars Pt. 1/? (Bucky x Reader)

1.6k Words // Masterlist // Requests are OPEN :)

Summary: After a mission gone wrong with the Avengers, you’re more than glad to see everyone made it out safely. That is, until you look down and see the blood stain spreading across your torso.

(Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death, gunshot wound, did I mention angst?)

No one thinks about dying when they're young. Not really. Every young person in the world is convinced that they’re invincible until one day, they wake up and realize that their youth is slipping, that their back is aching for no apparent reason, and that one day, any day, any minute, they could take their last breath and succumb to the sweet kiss that death offers to the masses as they start their walk into the afterlife.

This macabre idea, however, was not on your mind when your arm nearly caught fire in the old, abandoned warehouse on Cherry Chapel Lane in Amhurst, Massachusetts. The mission had been going swimmingly until that moment. Get in, get the target, get out. Simple instructions given by Tony, who was keeping watch of the area while the rest of the Avengers carried out their supposedly simple mission.

The intel Tony received on the Hydra base was from a solid, reliable source, so the attitude of the team going in was less-than-prepared, to say the least. You found out rather quickly that the intel was dead wrong. Rather than the six barely armed and untrained foot soldiers you’d been expecting, the warehouse was filled with highly intelligent and deadly accurate gunmen. To say that you and the team had busted through the ceiling, only to be met with rapid fire machine guns and flaming cannons, was putting it lightly. You were all getting your asses handed to you.

It was a complete mess, and you were hidden in a corner, trying like hell to shoot as many Hydra agents as possible and locate an exit.

“FUCK,” you yelped into your earpiece, “If that had gone any more wrong, I’d need a metal arm like Tin-Man has.”

You were still shaking the burn out of your left hand when Bucky’s voice responded through the speaker, “What happened to ‘easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, y/n’? Can’t take the heat?”  

Heat flooded your cheeks as you smiled at his teasing tone.  

“Okay, lovebirds, now’s not the time to have wicked com sex. Has anyone found a viable exit?” Natasha’s voice rang in your ear. She was right, this was not the time to get distracted by Bucky’s silky-smooth, velvety voice. There would be plenty of time for that later.  

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Steve grunted as he shielded himself from an onslaught of bullets, “Language, y/n.”

“Sorry, Steve.”

You reloaded your gun quickly and snuck a peak around the stack of palettes you’d been hiding behind. To your left you could see Natasha shooting at Hydra agents while standing back-to-back with Peter, who was doing his best to incapacitate people with his web shooters. Steve was in the middle of the warehouse fighting off two soldiers. Thor and Loki were out of your line of sight, but you could hear Loki’s arrogant laughter as sparks and lightning spouted off in every direction.  

Your eyes searched for Bucky, who was obviously the most vulnerable in situations that dealt with Hydra. There were bullets flying in every direction and the fire that you’d almost burned your arm in was beginning its slow, seductive crawl up the wooden beams that kept the warehouse standing up straight.  

A horrible thought crossed your mind, making you feel sick. If the fire got to the ceiling, the entire building could collapse with everyone still inside. Everything was going so terribly wrong.

“We need to get out of here!” You screamed into the com, watching the fire make its way up the side of the building.  

“Don't worry, Iron Man is here to save your sorry asses, again. I’ll cover you guys at the East exit. Get out. Now. Run.” Tony’s tone was confident, joking even, but he'd used his serious “dad” voice, which made you feel worse about how very un-serious you had been about this mission before it started going downhill.  

You glanced towards the exit Tony had mentioned, waiting for the blast that would make a sizeable hole in Hydra’s never-ending slew of soldiers.  

“Brace yourselves, people!” Tony yelled.

You ducked your head as the entire building shook with the blast. Ash and wood shavings rained down on your head and the familiar stench of blood and death surrounded you, nearly swallowing you whole.

Bucky resurfaced in your mind. Is this what he experienced every hour of every day when he was the Winter Soldier? Would this push him back into the shell you had spent months coaxing him out of?  

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You’d have to table those thoughts for later when everyone you loved wasn’t in danger of being shot to death or crushed by the feeble and burning walls of the warehouse.

You peeked around the corner. There was an opening that led to the exit. You took a deep breath and began to sprint.

Your legs carried you across the warehouse as you tried to avoid running on top of dead soldiers. Bullets were still flying in every direction and you kept your head ducked as you found the exit. The wood above you was beginning to disintegrate. You began to turn, wanting to make sure that everyone else had made it out before you, but the ceiling gave out before you got the chance.  

Two familiar arms wrapped around your waist and hoisted you backwards out of the way of the flames and decay. You fell into a strong, hard chest with a grunt. Even after hours of fighting, sweating, and bleeding, Bucky’s musky scent grounded you. He felt like safety. He felt like home. You rested your hand on his metal one, letting the coolness of the metal relieve the burn that was sure to blister.

Bucky was breathing hard as he set you down near the rest of the team.  

“Hey, handsome.” You smiled, looking over his ashy face for cuts or bruises.  

“Hey doll,” he responded, smirking, “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah, just a small burn,” you said, holding up your left hand for him to examine.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, glancing around at the other members of the group, silently adding up the headcount to make sure everyone was accounted for, “I almost didn’t make it out.”

You let out a stunted laugh, waiting for a witty reply from Tony or Steve. Bucky inhaled sharply, causing your eyebrows to furrow. Everyone in the group was looking at you with horror in their eyes.  

“Geez, guys. I was joking.” You held your arms out in question. When no one replied, you looked at Bucky, whose wild eyes were focused on your stomach.

Your hands flew to your torso. An immediate wetness coated the fingers that brushed over your left side. You looked down and couldn’t fully understand what you were seeing at first. To the right of your ribs was a hole, the size of a small seed. A warm sensation began to crawl up your body, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. A crimson stain was slowly making its way across your shirt.

The world around you had gone quiet. You looked up, expecting to see the group still gawking at you, but there was a sudden flurry of movement that you couldn’t keep up with. Everything was happening too fast, and you were so, so tired. Even blinking felt like an effort you couldn’t muster the energy for. You sank to your knees, losing your balance in the process, and ended up lying flat on your back. There was a full moon out. How did you not notice that it was a full moon?

‘Where’s Bucky? I need Bucky.’ You thought, searching in the haze for the familiar face of the man that you loved.

A small pressure was being placed on your stomach as you focused on the stars above you. You could faintly hear yelling, but the stars were so beautiful that you tuned them out. Why was no one talking about the stars?  

A sudden and alarming bright light faltered your focus. Steel blue eyes stared into your own.  

You smiled. You’d know those eyes anywhere. They belonged to your beloved Bucky. The man who owned your very soul. But why did they look so scared? Why were they crying?  

“Bucky.” You mumbled, reaching up to rest your hand on his wet cheek. A warm glow had overcome your entire body. It was getting hard to breathe.  

Bucky’s mouth was moving, but the world had long since gone silent for you. The sharp angles of his face were becoming more and more fuzzy. A white light haloed Bucky’s head. You took as deep a breath as you could muster. Everything was numb, but you finally understood what was happening. You finally understood the worry in his eyes.

‘I’m dying.’ You thought, tears welling in your eyes, ‘I don’t want to die. We didn’t get enough time together. I love him. Please, please, no.’  

You were pleading with whoever would listen, but the world around you was beginning to fade. It became clear to you that no one was listening and that this moment with Bucky would be your last.

“I’m so tired, Bucky.” You mumbled, a tear falling down the side of your face into the grass beneath you. You gently closed your eyes, using your last bit of energy to squeeze the hand that was pressed into your wound.  

“I love you, James.”

As the last bit of light faded, you hoped that you’d said it loud enough for him to hear. He needed to know that your dying words were meant for him. That he was the beginning and the end for you. That he was the sun, the moon, and the stars of your universe. That there was love in this dark, cruel world and that he held all of yours in his hands.

‘Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.’ You repeated in your brain, until even thinking became too much effort, and you drifted off into the most restful sleep you’d ever experienced.  

No one thinks about dying when they're young, not really, not unless they have to.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mcu #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #marvel imagine #tony stark #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #peter parker #spider man #winter soldier #imagine #mcu imagine #angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes