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#sis is WAY more expressive

evil-ace-supremacy · 6 months

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me and my (best friend) sister been lowkey simping for RE8 enemies

Her when 9ft lesbian vampire:

me when magnetic man with an army of zombie lookin mfs:

#as you can tell #sis is WAY more expressive #abt her character crushes #and im just #chill #yeah hot gay man exists #she is #WOAH OMG MOMMY #LOLZ #xens rants #resident evil #resident evil 8 #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 village #re8 alcina #re8 #re8 heisenberg

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katz-chow · 4 months

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sorry sex with simon

warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom

simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.

even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.

so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.

you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."

you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"

he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.

"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.

crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.

simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.

your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.

"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.

he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.

"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.

he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."

"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.

his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.

"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.

you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."

"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.

simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.

master list | letter box | main directory

stop by the letter box!

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yawnderu · 6 months

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Pervy Ghost fucking you in your sleep and you wake up. Him convincing you it's just a wet dream. 🤍

Using my Pervert!Roommate!Simon AU for this one efbhjhbjfe<3 anon u just made the hottest fucking request holy shit

CW: noncon, gaslighting, somnophilia, creampie.

His hips thrust slowly into yours, not wanting you to wake up as he takes you, thick cock hitting every single inch of your gummy walls, hands busy keeping your legs open, brown eyes fully focused on your peaceful expression. You look so pretty like this, your body betraying you even when you're fast asleep, his cock glistening with your wetness every single time he pulls out only to slam himself all the way back inside.

''Mmh...'' You mumble softly, slowly waking up as your eyes focus on Simon. His hand comes up to run over the length of your hair, the other one cradling your head as he buries his bare face on the crook of your neck, planting gentle kisses in hopes of soothing you.

''Si...?'' You whisper softly, so drowsy you don't even hear the sound of the bed rocking and his hips slamming into yours, barely even able to register an awkward feeling on your crotch.

'''S just a dream, baby.'' His deep voice whispers into your ears, trying to be as soothing as possible to get you back to sleep. His lips plant gentle kisses all over your jaw and cheeks, tracing up to your lips. You're so confused all you can do is try to keep up, sloppily kissing back before turning your head away from him, eyes closing again.

''There we go, love. Just enjoy...'' You want to go back to sleep, but if it's all a dream, there's no shame in enjoying yourself with your roommate, is there? One of his hands is now groping your tit, squeezing your nipple between his fingers and pulling on it before he goes back to simply enjoying the way the fat feels on his palm.

You're now more aware of what he's doing, feeling every single inch of his thick cock ramming in and out of your sopping cunt, not even realizing how wet your pussy is until you hear the lewd sounds filling the room, soft moaning mixing in with Simon's low growls from above you. Your arms wrap around his neck, weakly trying to pull him closer to you. He gets the message, leaning down until his lips crash into yours, thrusts getting more brutal now that he doesn't have to worry about waking you up.

Simon is a messy kisser, saliva exchanged and dripping down the corners of your lips as his tongue wraps around yours, hands exploring your perfect body all over as he thrusts into you, cunt tightening around him even more now that you're awake.

He doesn't want to mess up, though, and he thanks whatever it is out there that gave him the skills to seem convincing even when he's close to the edge.

''It's a nice dream, isn't it? I bet you've been wanting this for a while.'' His voice is warm and friendly, a total contrast to the way he's fucking you like he hates you. All you can do is nod, legs opening slightly wider to give more space for his burly body to fit as he rams into you. A small whine leaves your lips after he becomes too rough, making him slow down slightly to avoid hurting you.

''You can take it, yeah?'' You manage to give him a lethargic nod, eyes closing again as your head turns away from him, sleepiness taking over you again despite the way your body is responding for you. Your sleeping medication makes it harder to stay awake, even when the perfect dream is going on. He's now fucking you nice and slow, hips rolling against yours while he plants gentle pecks all over your face, not minding that you're going back to sleep. If anything, it makes this easier for him.

''Rest, baby. You'll dream about me more often.'' His promise is the last thing you hear as you drift off to sleep again. He doesn't even bother being rough anymore, simply enjoying the way your cunt wraps around his cock, lips gripping it tightly as he whispers promises of everything he's going to do to you, ranging from sweet to downright nasty. He picks up the pace, looking down at your sleeping face with a warm look in his eyes as he fills your womb with his thick seed, not bothering to clean you up as he slowly pulls out, putting your panties back on your sleeping body.

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rowarn · 6 months

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I just know that after that night, Victoria tried to call ONCE. Why once tho? Because Simon answered the phone in the middle of a very intense session, whispering in reader's ear to moan louder for him. After she heard the loud noises and Simon's soft voice she never tried to call him again.

simon riley / reader — set in the please love me universe!

fucking while on a call, jealousy, creampie, possessive!reader, vocal!simon <3

you were completely lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head with simon's large body blanketing yours. your hand was clasped tightly in one his as he rutted his hips slowly and deeply, making sure to angle his hips just right so he could hit that sweet, gooey little spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure.

simon was obsessed with forcing your body to show every bit of what you were feeling. holding you down so you couldn't do anything but twitch and shake, forcing you to look at him so he could see the way your eyes filled with tears when he hit a little too deep.

he's slowly working you up to your 3rd orgasm of the night when the spell between the two of you is completely broken by the shrill ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table.

both of you freeze. it's not the ringing that comes when someone from the task force contacts him. the two of you share a brief look of confusion before he reaches over and grabs the device off of the night table.

you could see the second his facial expression changed and a sense of alarm rushed through you.

"what is it, si?" you ask, tugging his hand down so you could see his screen.

the number was immediately familiar to you -- it was her again. victoria. her name burns as it goes through your head.

to your horror, simon slid the call button over and answered, ignoring the indignation on your face. there's a coy little smile playing at the edge of his lips and you want to wipe it off because it's making you angry.

you can hear her shrill voice yapping away the second he answers, pressing the speaker button and tossing the device onto the bed.

you try to tune in to what she's saying but he starts rutting his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit while he's got his cock snug inside your gooey cunt.

your eyes roll back at the feeling and you can't help the way you gasp from how good it feels.

"that's it, baby," simon coos, sitting back on his heels so he can bring his thumb down to lightly pet the swollen bud of your clit. the makes you moan louder and you faintly hear her voice from the phone ask, "si? what are you doing?"

hearing her call him that - so familiarly, like she has any claim over him makes you seethe.

simon grins when he sees that jealous flare in your eyes. he thinks it's cute - that you of all people are jealous. don't you know that he's completely and utterly devoted to you?

he pulls out just a little bit only to stuff his cock back inside. that pulls a beautiful moan from you that makes her go silent on the line. she calls his name again, clearly growing more agitated and humiliated.

"c'mon, sweetheart," he coos to you, "hold your legs for me, let me get real deep, yeah?"

you immediately do as you're told, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them back against your chest. the position allows him to get even deeper, pressing against that little spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and cries of pleasure rip from your chest.

he starts fucking your properly again, sticky sounds coming from between your thighs from how wet you are. your creamy arousal coats his cock and drips down his balls, making a mess of him all over but he loves it.

"oh! i-i'm gonna cum, si," you squeal, legs twitching in your hold but you don't let go, scared that if you move at all your orgasm will be lost and you'll have to start all over, "j-just like that, please don't stop!"

simon grits his teeth, biting back a moan of his own when he hears how sweetly you beg for him, "i know, baby. i'll get you there, you know i will."

you nod your head, eyes wide but vision blurry as it builds and builds until your entire body is tense. with one little pinch to your swollen clit, you cum with a wail of his name.

"shit. shit!" simon groans, tossing his head back to moan, "fuck, that's it. cum on my cock, cum, baby, cum. oh shit, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you."

his body falls over yours, face buried in your neck as he fills you up just right, his cum oozing out from around the tight seal your cunt has around his cock. his pace gradually slows before he comes to a stop all together.

he reaches over to grab his phone, panting and trembling from how hard he came. when he looks at the screen, he snickers, turning to show you that the call had been disconnected.

you just hope she stayed around long enough to hear that he loves you and took the hint <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #cod x reader #cod smut

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eccentricwritingbaby · 2 months

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funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass.

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry.

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you.

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,”

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum.

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier.

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom.

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck.

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself.

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a…

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further.

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’.

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze.

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge.

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it.

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls.

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband.

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided.

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin.

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries.

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him.

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’.

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him.

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement.

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs.

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage.

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction.

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts.

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle.

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh.

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart.

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you.

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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rusmii · 4 months

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𓂃🦄. BSD MEN HITTIN' THAT G-SPOT !

chuuya, dazai, tecchou

tags. x fem!reader, smut, cockwarming, implied/referenced punishments, grinding, controlled sex, (hard) bite marks, almost caught, blowjob under desk, desk/office sex, jealousy, punishments, brats/brat taming, overstim, marking, lewd acts, praising, degrading, cock drunk/pussy drunk, breeding kink, fingering, clit stimulation, squirting, multiple rounds, kinda riding, petnames, multiple uses of profanity, BANNERS/DIVIDERS MADE BY ME.

ps. leave me alone my shit writing is making me depressed.

all credit on this post belongs to @rusmii . don't steal >:(((

rules (for m.list) | taglist: @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx @iheartpieck @ezelium @atsquie

" 'Zai," you whisper into his ear, the soft breeze making him shudder for a brief moment. "Yes, 'bella?" He asks, his eyes still on his suicide book that he was reading. An annoyed sigh came out from you. What made his suicide book that he's read over a gazillion times more important than you? You stood there beside him for a minute, thinking about how to get his attention on you next. Dazai on the other hand knew what you were aiming for. Your skimpy nightwear and lounge gaze was enough to tell him everything. And truth be told, he was also feeling the same way. "Osamu~" You say again, straddling his lap as you do so. "Can I cockwarm while you read? Pretty pleeaase?~"

"Why're you moving, darling?"

A lump formed a clog in your throat. The small question he asks you within a few minutes in already has you wishing that you'd never propose this idea to him. He flips a page, humming as he does so. The usual smile he has when he sees you is present on his face.

His cock sits nice and still inside you. The slight curve of his dick being the main culprit of your squirmish movements. " 'M no- 'm sorry." You can feel Dazai eyeing you, the lie you almost gave him making you swallow the lump inside your throat in fear. For a few seconds, Dazai doesn't do anything, his attention long gone from his book as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck.

Clutching his shoulder that you laid your head on, you could feel slight movement in it. Dazai hums lowly, letting you off the hook this time. "Hm~ Fine. Be a good girl, though, and don't let me catch you humping me like a dog. Understood?"

You clench your teeth. Whew, for a moment there you thought you were fucked there. Punishments with Dazai was unpredictable, and you didn't intend on passing dangerous territory just yet. "Yes sir." — "Good girl," he praises, his warm words making your pussy ache.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, the silent lewdness of the situation made it wetter as time went on. You close your eyes, attempting to focus on Dazai's humming. His melodious tune being able to calm even the scorchest of hot headed men. You sigh, subtly rocking your hips against his. The unreactive Dazai giving you more courage to keep grinding on his cock.

Eventually, you heard the book close. The sound makes you halt and pull away. "You done readin'?" You question him when you see your lover setting the book aside onto the lamp table. Dazai hums, his soft expression calming your beating heart. Just for a moment there, you thought he caught you — "About 56 times." He cuts you off.

What? What was he talking about? You look at him, making eye contact almost immediately. Though he does not say anything, his sly smile and slanted eyes do. Your eyes start darting to anywhere but him, moving to the wall behind him. "My eyes are here," he points to his face, his voice rephrasing what he said earlier, "About 56 times did you disobey my orders."

"I -.." Excuses start piling up inside your throat. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He caught you, and there was nothing you could do about it. " 'I' What?" He mocks, the sinful smile he gives you was enough to have you breaking down. "I - I don't know! I -"

Endless blabber escapes from you. Dazai sits there and watches. Letting you cry out your frustration. He rubs the back of your head, a mocking coo leaving him. "Aw~ There, there darlin'. Don't cry, I promise I'm not that disappointed in you. You did your best, and I acknowledge that. Unfortunately, we both know that you could've done better." Bitter words come from him.

You were at a loss for words. No amount of crying and pleading was going to get you of your punishment now. Dazai doesn't wait for a response from you, though, pushing your chin up using his fingers. He was now eye to eye with you as he leaned forward, his head tilted to the side to line up with your lips. " 'M not gonna punish you too harshly. Despite you disobeying me, your grinding almost made me toss the book," Dazai admits, which makes your mouth drop open in surprise for just a split second.

"And for that - " He thrusts up hard. A loud moan escapes from your lips before you can muster any form of blockage. " - Ride for as long as you want." His smooth sailing words pur into your mouth. His own capturing yours into a soft, passionate kiss that matched the rhythm of your crotches grinding together. " 'Samu! - S- Osamu!" You moan his name, the tip of his dick rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

His eyes never leave yours. Every breathless grunt he lets out only spurs you on to bounce on his dick. The act makes him groan before he stops you from doing anymore. "Osamu..!" You whine, wondering why he stopped you. "No, I said for as long as you want. Not whatever you want."

You nod your head repeatedly, wanting to cum and get this over with. Dazai seems to agree so as well — using his hands to guide your hips. The slow grind making you cry tears of frustration. "Please! Please! - Osamu- Please! Please! - " — " Sh sh, I got you." Dazai reassures you, fastening the pace.

"Mmhm!~ Osamu! Osa - Osamu!!~" You squeal, his dick rutting inside your gushy cunt as he marks your neck made you see white. The tight clench of your walls made Dazai bite down a little too hard, tasting bits of iron in his mouth.

Dazai continues to grind his hips through your orgasm, feeling his own high building up. "Shit - Fuck! - cummincummin - Ghnn~" He groans into your neck. The pressure that had accumulated by your grinding earlier toppled down on his orgasm.

The white ribbon laced your walls deep inside you, the pressure of his dick pressing hard on your g-spot, giving you another orgasm. Hearing your second wave of squeals, Dazai uses a hand to rub your lower back, thrusting up slightly to help you ride out your second orgasm.

"Good - " He pants heavily, his flushed face with swollen lips, " - Good fucking girl, holy shit."

"And for -!" Chuuya hiced. His brain being thrown for a loop as he grips the new paperwork that was given to him by Akutagawa. Said man seems to notice his red face and questions him. "Sir, are you alright?" Chuuya waves him off, "Yeah - just.. - feeling a little hot in this room right now - how high did I set the temp again?" He laughs awkwardly and orders Akutagawa to go check. While Akutagawa is distracted, Chuuya looks down to find his pants unzipped and you sucking the tip of his dick. "Stop. Akutagawa is here. Let's do this when he's gone," he orders you, attempting to swat you hand away from his balls. But before he could do that, Akutagawa returned. "Sir, seems like the temperature is just below average - are you sure you're okay? — "YES! You - You may leave." Chuuya stutters on his words when he feels you engulf his entire dick into your mouth.

"You - " A slam of his hips has you spiraling into moans. " - Fucking - " Thrust " - Brat," he snarls above you. The nasaled expression on his face matching the rhythm of his hips.

"Chu-uuyaa!!~" You squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist as his dick plunges straight into your core — his dick hitting that spot every time he thrusts in. He groans, the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock perfectly could make him cum right then and there. "Yeah? That feel good? Fuck - bet that shit does." He slaps your thigh. "Brats like you shouldn't even be getting dicked down so good," he continues. His hips never faltering its rhythm.

"Good! Feels so good! Please Chu - Chu fuck me!" Affirming his accusations only made Chuuya more bricked than the hardest damn rock. All papers, pens, and other random shit had been thrown off his desk in a haste. He'd care about it when he was done with you. "Mhm..~ Ha! 'Dunno. Should brats like you get fucked like good girls? Hm?" He puncuates every word with a slow, sharp thrust. " 'Cause the whore 'm fuckin' is on Santa's naughty list right now."

You arch your back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. You roll your head up as more nonsense came from you. His dick rubbed your spot intensely while grinding your crotches together. The sharp, angled, shallow thrusts almost, causing you to nearly shut one eye from losing control of most of your senses.

"Ahnn!~ - Yesss! Pleaaaasse - " You slur on your words, your tongue falling loose in your mouth. Chuuya tugs your arms to him and grips your wrists, sliding your body back and forth across the desk. "Chuuya! Chuuyachuuyachuuya!!!~" — "Fuck - keep moanin' my name like that and I might cum right now," he groans above you. His head was thrown back, face full of bliss.

Chuuya angles his dick again, making sure the tip and side of his length run against your g-spot. He hears another squeal, making a mental note to come back to this angle when he's fucked you silly.

Actually, scratch that — with how you're clinging your vices onto him so tightly, he can only assume that you were cumming right now. "Shiiit." A curse falls upon him when he finally notices the tight clench of your pussy. Chuuya didn't even realize you were having an orgasam until he saw your fucked out, lewd face. "Fuck - Oh fuck.." He grunts, slowing his thrusts as to hold out longer.

"Geez ‐ Shit - [Name], did anyone ever tell ya' how hot you look when you get all fucked out like that?" He asks, a grin spread from ear to ear. As soon as you catch your breath, you hum. "Yeah - you," you release a breathy laugh. "Me? Just me?" He asks again leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Who else would I be letting raw dog me? Not Michi."

The casual mention of your coworkers nickname caught Chuuya's attention. "Michi? Tachihara? Since when the fuck did you and and that fucker get on friendly terms?" A shallow upturn thrust surprises you. "Huh - Gh~ - What? Me and him have always been on friendly terms - Ogh!~"

"That's such fucking bullshit 'n you and I both know it." Chuuya interrupts you, thrusting into your cunt again. "W-wait!~ Chu-uya!" You moan. "You wanted me to fuck you like the dirty street slut you are — I'm gonna fuck you like a damn bitch in heat waitin' for a new batch of litter."

Never one to go back on his word, Chuuya picks up his pace, not caring about his rhythm. He aims for the same spot that has you crushing boulders when poked there. "Chuuya!~ Please! Please! T'much! So - " — " - Cut that shit out, overstim is your favorite pass time activity." His balls slap your ass from how deep he's inside you. "Don't wanna hear you give me that 'too much' crap. Yer' perfectly capable of handling 'nother few orgasms."

He was right. Fuck — Chuuya was so right. The mini act you put on was nothing but a facade of how you were feeling internally.

Lewd images racked your brain. The visual thought of Chuuya breeding you straight up was enough to get your pussy pulsing in a matter of seconds. "Fuckfuck! Chuuya! Please, 'm gonna cum!! Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cummm!!~" Chuuya grunts above you, sweat dripping down him. "Fuck - you feel so fuc-kin' good! Sweetheart ya' feel so fuck - ughhn!~"

At the very last moment, Chuuya angles his dick exactly like how it got you to cum right away. Your jaw drops open, your eyes roll back, and your back arches into Chuuya's chest as he leans down to burrow his head into your neck. "Mhm~ mmm - 'm cummin - shit - 'm cummin' doll." Was your only warning before you felt his cum sticking to your walls. The creamy goop being fucked deeper as he rides out both of your orgasms with slowing thrusts.

A few more shallow thrusts, and you two are whining in overstimulation, Chuuya quieter than you. He pulls away when he feels your legs unwrap from his waist, watching them dangle to the side in exhaustion.

He pants heavily. His face is bright red and messy hair is a perfect image to burn into your memory.

"Chuuya," you call out to him, way out of breath to even talk. "Yeah?"

"You do remember that you were the one who forced me and Tachihara on friendly terms, right?"

"..... Oh yeah." He scratches the back of his head before pulling out to slap his dick on your cunt. "Givin' you a break before we continue," he winks — readjusting the position of your body.

"You wanna what?" Tecchou answers your question with another question. "Wanna get fingered so hard until I black the fuck out," you shrug your shoulders. The request wasn't expected, just a suggestion to spicen up your guys sex life — that was a lie, it was because you saw him flexing his fingers the other day and couldn't get the image of him being past knuckle deep inside your cunt out of your head!

"Hnn!!~" You squeal, the fingers prodding gently against your g-spot pulling the second orgasm out of your for the night.

Tecchou doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out to stare at it. You glance at him, wondering what he had in plan. "Tecchou?" You get up on your elbows, eyes full of concern. Did you cross a line? Was this too much? Before you could ask any of the questions that popped up in your head, Tecchou slips his fingers into his mouth — fingers coated in your slick.

He sucks on his fingers, his tongue webbing around each one that was inside of you. "Tecchou.. What the fuck..?" You said, shock filling your brain as you watched him finger fuck his own mouth with your arousal.

He hums, his fingers coming out with a pop as he pushes you back down on the bed. "Tecchou, what the fuck was that? Why did you just - " — "Why is this a problem but not my face between your thighs?"

Speechless, you turn your head away. The thundering pump of your heart is not helping with thinking of anything to retort back. When Tecchou receives no answer from you, he drops his hand down to your clit — the gentle press bringing you back to earth. "third round?" He asks as he circles around your clit.

"Y-yeah -" Your breath hitched when he slipped three fingers inside your sopping cunt. The stretch of thick, veiny fingers stuffed up your pussy was almost enough to push in two mini didlos in there. You moan, a loud one that encouraged Tecchou to continue with what he was doing. " 'Gonna slip a fourth one. Can you do it?" A question for consent before he makes room for another finger.

"Mhm," you nod, already feeling the finger joining the others. Hissing, you bit your lip. The pain was mild, but the slight burn of the stretch made your eyes water a bit. "Hm," He hums again. "Relax, you're going to make me hurt you." His fingers still inside, not once moving until he feels you unclench around them. "Mm - I'm trying."

Tecchou doesn't seem to be happy with that response. "Don't force yourself." Was all he said before you felt him shift his fingers around. What came next was a gasp being ripped from you and another curl to the same spot. "T-Tecchou!~" You moan, feeling your spot being prodded at. The soft pressure he applies every time he presses down makes you squirm a bit. "I can feel you getting tighter. Does it feel good?" He asks, voice soft and gentle.

"Yes! Please!" You bring a hand down to your clit, rubbing it in a way that gives you the most pleasure. Tecchou's speed increases, the fingers curling inside all hitting the same spot. Your hips start to shake, the pressure of your approaching orgasm building up in your abdomen. "Te-Tec-hou!~" Hiccups escape through your sobs. Tears streaming down your cheeks due to the pleasure.

" 'M - cummin' - 'M cummin' !" Your body squirms. Tecchou pins you to the bed, fingering as fast as he can. "You can do it." The first praise of the night being whispered so lightly. His usual blank expression is now a mix of proudness and adoration. "C-can't! T'much! Too much!" You sniffle, pulling your arm back for better support. Tecchou takes it upon himself to do the job for you, using both of his hands, he plunges straight into you — simultaneously adding a fifth finger when he sees the puddle you made. His other hand doing the same gentle circles around your clit.

And finally, after a few minutes — the blockage in your abdomen snapped. The floodgates of your cum squirting out clear fluid as Tecchou re-angled his hand. "Ghhhh~ Ohhggg...!" You whine, your legs threatening to kick as you slightly lift your body off the bed.

Tecchou watches mesmerized by your shot, aiming at his chest directly. The clear fluid dripping down his pecks and into his abs below. "Woah.... That was so hot."

hi was gonna originally write nikolai + fukuzawa but didn't have motivation for them :(... I did start out nikolais but don't even get me started on fukuzawa.... here's a snippet of nikolais

do you guys want me to write a pt2 with fuku+niko??

#i went ham on chuuyas part #🖇. writings #spent all day writing this from start to finish #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #tecchou x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #tecchou smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #ⁿˢᶠʷₓ adult swim

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forsworned · 4 months

Text

˗ˏˋcrazy cat lady ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ something about simon and cats is just really pullin at my heart strings tn, for @chamomiletealeaf bc she wanted more :)

꒰warning(s)suggested polyship, fluff꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

"God, not again."

Simon groaned, as he caught her feeding the alley cats. That piqued Johnny's interest as he walked into the living room area where Simon was standing. He peeked over his shoulder and saw her open a can of tuna-salmon wet food and tipped it into the bowls that she "sneakily" set outside. The alley cats all surprisingly patient as they sat with tails tucked around their forms.

"Well 'll be damned, she's got 'em trained." Kyle's voice interjected, making Johnny jump a little but his grin grew as he folded his arms. Simon only shook his head.

"Ahh, how sweet." Price popped his head in and his gaze was tender as he laid his eyes on her. His once furrowed brows relaxed at the sight of her petting one of the cats heads' as it headbutted her palm and let her glide over its spine to the tip of its tail. Another rubbing itself against her thigh and a third prancing around her as it lightly brushed its black, bushy tail around her waist.

"Jus' admit it, L.t., 's cute." Johnny nudged Simon with a good natured grin. Simon leered at him for a moment before returning his attention to witness her gawking up at them doe-eyed and caught redhanded. Her lips curled into a charming, girlish grin that was enough to make any mans heart stop. She raised her hand to wave at them and they all chuckled, peering down at her with endearing expressions, well, minus Simon.

He felt his temple twitch as he attempted to glare at her, but even he wasn't impervious to her invisible shackles that she placed around his wrists years ago. His jaw ticked as he walked away from the window, leaving the guys behind to adore her coquettish behaviorisms, mumbling something about her being a 'crazy cat lady'.

"C'mere, y'lil cunt."

He growled, at the skittish calico kitten that refused to come out from behind the rubbish bin. He was growing more impatient by the moment, cursing himself for not having more of a natural disney princess touch the way [name] did with animals, specifically felines. A sharp exhale leaves his nose as he palmed his face. It had been fifteen freakin' minutes since he had decided to walk out in the chilly February night air with a can of cat food to lure out one of the kitties that he had saw her feeding earlier. Frustrating was simply an understatement.

A girlish giggle was heard behind him and his body went rigid.

Bloody fuckin' hell.

"Feedin' that damn cat again, weren't ya?" She mimicked his deep, gravelly Manchester accent. As atrocious as it was, he couldn't help but chuckle at her impersonation of him.

"Startin' to sound like a cunt, aren't I?" He retorted. It was a pleasant, lighthearted banter. She chuckled as she crouched beside his towering figure, and made a kissing noise while rubbing his fingers together at the calico and the kitty meowed in delight as she* trotted over to her and welcomed her pets.

*calicos are almost always female

"You gotta make yourself less menacing, Si. Crouch." It was a gentle command as she continued to lovingly stroke the cat. He sighed as he mimicked her position and glanced over at her to wait for her next instruction. "Go on."

She urged him to repeat her exact gestures. He surveyed the way the calico rubbed against her in envy. She could feel his green little monster eyes on her and it made her lips twitch into a smug smile. "Don't got all night, Si."

He narrowed his eyes at her before--reluctantly--repeating her kissing noises and rubbing motion with his fingers at the calico and she meows at him and quickly rushes over to his hand. Simon's eyes immediately softened at the contact. Warm, pure and loving. There was nothing like the little gesture of a kitten welcoming little pets on the forehead as they rubbed their fluffy cheeks against his fingers, down their spine to the tip of their tail. A relieved sigh emitted from his lips and [name] giggled.

He peered up at her for a moment before looking back down to see a black kitten had joined their little party around the opposite side of his leg, rubbing its pink nose against his thigh. Although it was remarkably menial, Simon's mask had arched upwards, indicating that he was indeed smiling. Another chuckle escaped from her as she relished in the rare sight. Simon petting alley cats he was always complaining about to the guys that [name] would bring around due to her sweet-natured behavior that wouldn't allow her heart to just let these animals to just be restive pests that ransacked their waste bins? Unheard of.

"They're just like you." She mused, as she continued to pet the calico. She laughed knowing that he was raising a curious brow at her, waiting for her to continue before she spoke up again. "Skittish as hell."

A short silence.

"Thinkin' they were more like you." He spoke up, still petting the black kitten. She turned to him waiting for a irascible remark, but he peered up at her with a tender gaze as he lifted his free hand to gently pinch her cheek. "Cute as hell."

Her eyes reamed at his words and his adoring touch. Her heart soared in her chest and she couldn't help the way her lips simpered and the way her cheeks warmed pleasantly. A syrupy sweet moment that she was already etching into her brain, and Kyle was capturing forever in his phone as Price and Johnny snickered, beholding the saccharine and cushy side of Simon that came out more and more around her.

"Send this to me." Johnny crowed, with a wolfish grin.

"Ditto." Price bit back his low chuckle but it slipped when he saw the way [name] leaned her head against Simon's shoulder and he didn't even take a beat before he carded his fingers though her hair.

"Fuckin' hell." Kyle's shoulder's were shaking as he muffled the pure joy running through his system. It was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

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pretty-little-mind33 · 11 months

Text

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summary: You've always felt inadequate compared to Belly, but it's possible you never had a reason to.

Genre: Fluff, kinda angst? hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: harassment, underage drinking, swearing

You'd always been second to Belly Conklin. Although it had been the five of you since you could remember, for some reason it seemed like in the end only four mattered: Belly, Steven, Jeremiah, and Conrad. You were always in the shadows, and now that Isabel had returned to Cousins as beautiful as ever, you wanted to disappear.

It was now apparent to everyone around that Isabel Conklin was the Sun. And you? You weren't even the Moon. You were dust at most, and who would choose dust over the Sun?

"You having fun lil' sis?" Jeremiah fisher asks, leaning against the lonesome wall you claimed as yours. You look at him and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Parties weren't your thing. You only came because Belly had convinced you. Jeremiah grins and points behind him, "Well, that cute boy hasn't stopped looking at you since we arrived, if that makes things a little better." Jeremiah winks and your eyes round. Reluctantly, you glance behind him and see a handsome boy with blond curls smiling at you.

You panic. No boy had ever looked at you like he was and you had never wanted any boys to look at you in that way before—not unless their name was Conrad Fisher.

However Conrad is Belly's now, it's obvious, and you aren't even competition. So, you smile at the boy. You learn his name is Alex and he hands you a drink the moment you walk over to him (upon Jeremiah's insistence). Alex seems genuinely interested in your conversations so when he asks you to dance with him, you don't refuse.

His hand on your hip is foreign and it makes you nervous. But, because the small amount of liquor in your system drowns out any anxieties you have and you lean into him and let him move your hips into his. As soon as Alex's lips skim your neck however, someone's hand is gripping your arm and pulling you away. You lose your balance and bump into the person's chest.

"What the fuck." Conrad hisses. It takes you a moment to understand it isn't you he's addressing, "She's sixteen, you creep."

"Conrad!" You shout, hoping his hand would loosen around your arm. It didn't and it isn't until you push him that he turns to you. His cheeks have blushed pink and the look in his eyes makes you pause. Conrad had never looked at you like that before.

"Did he hurt you?"

You blink at him, head shaking, "Excuse me?"

"Don't touch or even speak to her again." Conard turns around to threaten Alex and your eyes widen, "Now leave." To your surprise, and disappointment, Alex reluctantly listens to him.

"What? No! What the fuck, Conrad?" You curse, pulling your arm from his hand. You stumble but keep your gaze on his. Conard frowns and his hand holds your waist instead,

"You're drunk." He says and you narrow your eyes at him.

"I had one drink!"

"You're a lightweight then." Conrad deadpans and holds out his hand to you, "I'm calling your mom, Y/n. Give me your phone."

You shake your head, "Stop it, Conrad. You're embarrassing me." You murmur and look down, tears pricking your eyelids. Conrad has always seen you as a kid. He has never seen you as an equal, or as a girl he could potentially love, and at this point you don't know which hurts more.

His expression softens seeing your teary eyes. When you look up at him, he looks guilty. You hug your arms around yourself and muster up the courage to ask, "Why did you do that?" You pause, "Alex liked me, he liked me! For once in my life a boy likes me and not Belly and you had to ruin it for me. Why!?"

You look him dead in the eyes when you say, "I hate you Conrad, and I hate that I love you even more." And you mean every single word. All you want to do now is to run and hide, but all you can do is stand there, frozen in time, as you aggressively rub your cheeks with your palm.

Conrad doesn't know how to answer you. His entire body burns to hug you, kiss you, do anything to make you smile again. Smile like you had been when he saw you dancing with that boy. Honestly, he hates himself for being jealous — because yes he was jealous. He has no claim to you whatsoever but simply seeing another boy's hands on your skin made him see red.

Conrad knows your words have been spoken only because of the alcohol you drank. He knows you don't hate him, and he knows you don't love him. Only, some part of him isn't so sure you don't love him. Part of him is hoping you do love him because he loves you too.

But he can't do anything about that now, not when you seem drunk.

"Is she crying? Y/n, are you okay?" Belly suddenly comes rushing up to you both, Cam Cameron abandoned behind her. She puts a delicate hand on your shoulder and you turn around. Instantly, you bury your head into her shoulder and start sobbing. Belly wraps her arms around you as she mouths, "What did you do" to Conrad.

You don’t think he answers her, because she takes your waist and pulls you away from him and into the nearest bathroom. You crumble to the ground and hug your knees, muttering something. Belly slowly shuts the door and kneels next to you, "How much have you had to drink?"

"Apparently, I'm drunk." You sniffs, rubbing your hand under your nose. You look at her with tears in your eyes. "You're so pretty, Belly."

Belly looks surprised, her eyes widening, and she puts her hand over yours, "You're pretty, Y/n." she says, trying to reassure you.

"Not like you are, Bells," You exclaim, "No one has ever looked at me like Cam looks at you. Or Jere. Or even Conrad! And I want them—him—to look at me like that. I don't want him to look at me like I'm a kid he has to keep in check." You choke out another whimper and bury your head in your arms, hands clutching at your hair.

"You're in love with Conrad." Belly suddenly states, her hand disappearing from yours.

Your eyes widen and you look up, quickly shaking your head, 'What? No." You could see Belly's cheeks turn pinker. You'd known about Belly's massive crush on Conrad Fisher since forever and you had never intended to stand in their way. You never even intended to tell Conrad, or anyone for that matter, that you love him.

"It doesn't matter, trust me. Conrad loves you, Belly." You assure her but she doesn't look in any way convinced.

"I don't love him and he doesn't love me." Belly comments determinedly, standing up, "And I'm going to show you why."

You don't understand what she means until a few minutes after she left, the bathroom door opens again. Conrad runs in like he's seen a ghost. In a blur, his hands cup around your cheeks and he's moving your head around, "How did that bastard touch you? Y/n tell me now or I swear–" Your eyes must have been wide open because Conrad squints at you, confused.

"Connie," You say and hearing his nickname, Conrad's body relaxes, "Alex didn't hurt me."

"Belly mentioned you had a fucking bruise, Y/n/n." Conrad continues to roam his hands around your skin as gently as he can. You look at his face. His beautiful face and you notice how different the small freckles he gets because of the sun look in the darkness of this small bathroom. Conrad Fisher has always been so beautiful. If Belly is the Sun, then you're sure he's the Moon and that realization only breaks your heart more.

Conrad's thumb pads under your eye, "Don't cry." He says.

You look up at him and he can't help but think how beautiful you are. Conrad wishes he could give you his eyes, even only from a day, so that you could see yourself just as he sees you.

"I'm not drunk. I promise." You whisper and he cracks a smile. He nods, "I-Connie, if I tell you this can you promise it won't change a thing?"

"Sure." He answers and sits down in front of you, his hands draped across your knees.

"I meant what I said. I hate you," Conrad's face falls, "But I hate you because you won't ever love me the way I love you. I hate you because every time I look at you I want to be someone else, someone that would be worthy of your love. Someone prettier—"

"Y/n," Conrad interrupts you with his hand over your mouth, "Don't finish that sentence. Please. It breaks my heart that you can't see yourself like I see you." He removes his hand and you stay silent. His fingers run through your hair until he cups your chin, "How can you expect nothing to change now that I know you love me?"

You cringe and turn your head, "Because I don't want to lose you."

You hear him laugh and as beautiful as the sound is, it tears your heart into a million little pieces. "You could never lose me." He says and leans back, his arms now crossed over his knees. He's looking into space. You glance at him and he looks like the old Connie. His eyebrows are raised and it looks like he's smirking.

You sniff, "I am losing you."

Conrad tilts his head, "How?"

"Because you love Belly. Because she's the Sun and you're the Moon and I'm, well, I'm fucking dust." You exclaim and Conrad looks at you like you've suddenly grown two heads.

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself." You whisper.

Conrad inches towards you, his arms outstretched. You look at him curiously but still, you let him hug you. You're leaning against his chest now and he smells like laundry detergent and sea salt. His large hand rests in your hair and he leans his chin on your head, "I don't love Belly, Y/n. Not in that way. She's like my little sister. She has always been."

"Oh," You say and you think back to Belly's words: Conrad doesn't love me, and I'm going to show you why. You think back to how Conrad looked at you when he was pissed at Alex, or how he almost broke the bathroom door down to make sure you weren't hurt. "Am I like your sister too? Is that why you got so protective?"

You sense his body tense and there is a pause.

"No." Conrad breathes out, "Y/n, you're not like my sister."

You lean away and look at him. Your tone is serious now, "So what am I to you, Conrad?"

His eyes shine blue like the ocean and you almost drown looking at them. He's so close to you now and his cheeks are rosy. You both smell faintly like cranberry liquor and his hand is soft on the exposed skin of your thighs, "You're a Star. My Star."

You feel like you've lost your breath, "I'm your Star?"

Conrad nods, "You see, the Moon is lonely." He explains, expression serious, "He's usually all alone and sometimes it makes him want to cry. But whenever his Star comes out of hiding and shines into the darkness, the Moon is happy again. Unfortunately, his Star doesn't know how brightly she shines though. Most times, the Sun can't even compare because this Star," Conrad pauses, "his Star, isn't blinding. You can look at her shine all night and she'll always be the most beautiful thing. She's kind and brave and the Moon loves her more than anything." You have the sudden urge to sob and Conrad brings his thumb under your eye again, catching some tears, "Shh, it's okay." He says and you don't know how to react. You're suddenly wondering if, because of your crying, you have snot running down your nose.

Conrad Fisher has just declared his love for you and you're thinking about snot. It's all so funny you laugh. Conrad's nose scrunches, "Are you laughing at me?" He asks, mouth ajar.

You shake your head, "No!" You say but you start laughing again, covering your mouth and shrinking into yourself.

"Oh I see, you can make corny metaphors but I can't." Conrad rolls his eyes. Your mouth twists into a smile and you take his cheeks in your hands, pulling him to you until your noses are almost touching. In between your fingers you can see the tips of Conrad's ears turn pink.

"You can make as many metaphors as you want, Con. As long as you mean them."

He smiles, "I have never meant anything more in my life, Y/n/n."

You feel his hand find its way to the back of your head and he pulls you forward, his lips meeting yours. It's like a weight has been lifted from both your chests and you kiss him back instantly. It isn't like you imagined your first kiss with Conrad to go. You certainly weren't sitting on the floor of some random person's bathroom, dried tears on your cheeks.

But, it's still somehow better.

Conrad's hands now find themselves on your hips as he continues to kiss you, lips delicately moving to your neck. The situation is so ironic you chuckle. You move away and Conrad looks confused.

You fake a pout, "I'm sixteen, Connie. Isn't this a little inappropriate."

Conrad begins to panic, "What? I-I mean, I'm barely a year older than you! Are you uncomfortable because," He pauses seeing your expression and he suddenly remembers what he had said to Alex and he blushes, "Okay, that wasn't funny." He whines.

"Kinda was." You boast.

Conrad leans back and tucks some hair behind your ear, "So what do you say we leave this bathroom and go dance." He asks and your heart flutters. You nod. You had never wanted anything more.

* ~ *

Summer ended and came again quickly. It had been a year since Conrad kissed you in that bathroom and a year since he became your boyfriend. Since you didn't live in Cousins, long distance had been complicated. But this was Conrad—when he wanted something he was determined to make it work and luckily for him you had the same amount of determination.

It was Belly's seventeenth birthday, yours having happened a few months prior to the Summer, and Shayla was throwing her a party. Parties usually weren't your thing but having Conrad around made things better.

"Hey lovebirds, this is my make out spot now. Go away." Jeremiah exclaims, leaning on the wall you and Conrad had claimed as your own. He pushes you away from your boyfriend. You laugh as Conrad sends Jeremiah a dirty look.

"You're a freak, Jere. Why can't you find your own?" He asks, his arm remaining around your waist.

"Because this is the only quiet one, and she isn't the only one who wants privacy."

You look at Micheal, Jeremiah's boyfriend, and smile, "Hi, Mike." Micheal awkwardly smiles back.

"Why can't you find a bathroom?" Argues Conrad.

"Occupied." Jeremiah defends.

"Okay children, calm down." You say, taking your boyfriend's hand in yours, "Babe, I’m thirsty, do you think you could grab us drinks while I dance with Belly and Taylor?" Conrad sighs and looks down at you. He squeezes your hand.

"Of course, Starlight." Conrad says sweetly. He then turns around and ignores Jeremiah as he says a quick hello to Micheal and leaves for the kitchen. You smile sheepishly, "Sorry, here!" You move from the wall, "Have fun! I mean–um. Yeah!" You state, waving, and quickly leave to find Belly and Taylor.

"Y/n!" Belly shouts from the crowd and you push your way towards them. Belly hugs you and when she pulls away her cheeks are flushed and you know she's had one too many drinks. But, by the way Taylor is holding her hand you know she's in good hands. Literally.

"Hi, Bells'. Tay." You smile and start to dance with them. Taylor nods at you, gripping Belly's hips and moves them to the music. Just like last year they're wearing flower crowns and they look beautiful. Your mind wanders to Conrad and you remember how he'd offered to buy or make you a flower crown last year since Belly only had two. He'd been so kind. You smile. However, just as quickly as your smile came it disappeared because someone's hands touched your waist. You know it's not Conrad, you know how his hands feel and these aren't his hands.

You turn around only to be met with familiar blond curls, "Alex?"

"Hi, Y/n." Alex smiles, not moving his hands. You return his smile awkwardly. You don't know what to do. His smile makes you want to puke and you don't understand why. You look around for Conrad. "You wanna finish our dance, without interruptions this time?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Alex, I actually have a boyfriend." You mutter and shakily move his hands. Belly has turned around now and when she notices Alex, she drunkenly frowns. In seconds she's taking your hand and pulling you into her and away from the boy.

"Hi," She slurs, "I'm Belly."

Alex sends her a tight-lipped smile, "Hi," You look away but his hand gripping your arm makes you turn to him again, "I-" He starts but he's interrupted by Conrad yanking his arm, causing him to drop his hold on you.

"Don't ever touch her." Conrad snaps.

Alex squints at Conrad, "Not you again." He looks at you, "Does he even know you?"

"I'm her boyfriend, dipshit." Conrad exclaims, his arm going around your shoulder and you unconsciously lean into him.

Alex frowns, "Oh," He moves away, "My bad, man." Your hands clench. Suddenly it matters that you're taken? It hadn't only a minute earlier! When Alex leaves, you turn to Belly and Taylor and they look just as disgusted as you do.

"My bad, man." Taylor mocks, "Asshole." She says and continues to dance.

"Men suck." Belly mutters, taking Taylor's hand and spinning her around. You laugh. You would have agreed, had your boyfriend's hands around your waist not reminded you that no, not all men sucked. But then again, not all men were your boyfriend.

You spin back around and he pulls you into him, "You ok?" He asks, genuinely concerned. You smile and nod, "Good." He says, rubbing his thumb over your hips. His lips twist into a smirk and you tilt your head.

"You look like you enjoyed that." You say.

Conrad raises his brow, "I did not enjoy him touching you when you were obviously uncomfortable, Starlight."

You laugh, "No, I meant telling him that you're my boyfriend."

"I am your boyfriend." Conrad smirks and leans in to kiss your forehead. He looks at you, blue eyes shining, "Is it so bad that I want people, especially idiots like him, to know?"

You pretend to think for a moment, "No," You smile, "I don't think it's bad."

"Good because I want everyone to know." Conrad says as he kisses your lips. You lean up and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Ew, gross." Belly groans, pulling on your arm, "Connie, leave her alone. It's my birthday and I want to dance with my best friends!" You chuckle as Conrad’s eyebrows scrunch but he doesn't protest, he only points to Belly and says,

"Only because it's your birthday."

Belly drunkenly points her tongue at him and Conrad smirks, amused at how childish she is when she's drunk. You look at them and your own smile curls your lips. A year ago, Conrad smiling at Belly would have made your heart sink and your insecurities spiral. Now, those insecurities are forgein because while Belly might be the Sun and Conrad might be the Moon, you were his Star.

And what is a Moon without Stars?

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher w you #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fanfiction

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animeshotsh · 4 months

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Dad!Luci HCS

• Hcs of this post.

After adopting you, Lucifer called his most trusted Friends and told them about you.

He also rant to them how unfair it was that you ended in hell but at least he now had a New Kid!!

His most loyal friend its Stolas who wants to meet you asap!! He is going go bring lots of gifts to you. If you ever express some kind of liking towards the space then Stolas its going to teach you all about them.

Calls Charlie to let her know she is a big sis now and while she is confused she is happy to hear her father being so hyped. She breaks down after knowing how you ended in hell and wants to cuddle you.

Alastor its so off limits. The radio Demon its curious about you and wants to piss Lucifer off by also "adopting".

"You can call me Dad" Alastor with a grind seeing Lucifer get angrier as the seconds pass.

Your fav thing to do its make ducks!! Lucifer made sure to lock down the ones that could hurt you.

Cries when you made a duck that represents him. He now has it in his office.

Gets proud of you by doing whatever. He wants you to learn lots of things so he ends calling the best demons.

The only Demon who can play violin besides him in the nine circles.

Gets you some type of hell pet thats really tiny till it detects danger then it changes into a full beast.

The maid (Xin) its worried you may end hurt by how much you run in the royal gardens.

Most likely you wont develope any type of special power due to your soul not being tainted. Thats why Lucifer teaches you ways to fight.

He wants to see your full Demon form. Even if you are cute and innocent right now he dies to see what you can become.

Asks you about your life and takes care of you when you get sad about your death and your mom.

Lucifer still wants to kill your mom and swears he will have a special chat if she ends in hell.

If she goes to heaven then he is going to be so angry but at least he does not have to deal with her.

Its so scared you will think he is not cool or good as a dad so he tries his best.

Wants you to have Friends but even the kid demons are more violent than you so he decides to keep a distance from them. For now at least.

You are banned from going outside without him or someone he trusts.

If someone dares to touch you then its big game over for them.

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader

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thevillainswhore · 4 months

Text

New Tricks: Celestial Heavens

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Life couldn’t seem any better — your life long crush, and the football star of your fantasies is now your boyfriend, and your relationship is running smoothly. It’s a dream come true. But when Bucky admits he’s ready to take things to the next level, you’re anxious to make sure losing his virginity is an experience he won’t forget — for all the right reasons.

Which means, a first date is in order.

A night beneath the stars brings the two of you closer together, where emotions run high and confessions sit on the tips of tongues.

Warnings: College AU, Smut, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, fluff, fluff and more fluff, pet names, swearing, teasing, first dates, Bucky is a smooth little shit, cute astronomy puns.

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 🥰 here is the highly requested part two for New Tricks 🥹 the support I have received for part one has been so overwhelming and I want to thank all of you who expressed your love 😭

Beta and divider graphic credits go to @rookthorne - I can’t thank you enough for spending hours of your time helping me bring this AU to life, you’re incredible — this one is for you ❤️

I hope this follow on lives up to your expectations and does our favourite college babies justice. Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Happy reading my lovelies 💜

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

‼️ Small disclaimer ‼️- while I have done some research, I in no way consider myself to be an astronomy expert. If any of the facts or information I have included are wrong, I apologise profusely.

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, you hum a tune to yourself while waiting for the door to open.

The impulse to knock again after only a moment of waiting is overwhelming and your impatience begins to wane. You grip the canvas strap of your tote bag which is full to the brim with notepads and books, when the door suddenly swings open to admit you.

“Hey–! Oh, it’s you.” Disappointment sours your tone upon seeing Steve in the doorway. You push past his broad frame and enter his apartment to look for the true reason you are there, paying no mind to the scoff that falls from his lips.

“Yes, hello sis. So good to see you, too!” Steve stays by the door, unmoving and starts conversing with himself. “How am I? I’m great, thanks for asking—how about you? Come on in, we’ll have a drink.”

You shake your head, huffing a laugh while you scold him playfully, “Oh hush, Stevie, don’t be so butthurt.” From down the hallway, you see a light casting shadows along the floor — the source coming from a slither of an open door. A flicker of red hair disappears around the door frame. “Huh,” you muse, a smirk dancing on your lips. “You should know by now I’m not here for you. Where is he?”

Steve sighs. “He’s–”

“Buttercup!” Bucky’s shout from his bedroom interrupts Steve, and it snaps your focus towards the direction of his voice. “Baby!”

The heavy thud of his rapid footsteps echoes down the hallway towards the living room, where you currently stand waiting for him, and you can’t help but giggle with amusement at his excitement.

He appears in a blur, skidding into the room with grace akin to a drunken swan — a pink blush dusts over his cheekbones and the boyish charm of his eager smile makes your stomach flutter. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, and he covertly attempts to catch his breath from the sudden burst of excitement.

“–There,” Steve finishes, lamely.

The bright, pretty smile on Bucky’s lips and how his eyes grow wide when he sees you makes you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. “Hi, Buttercup,” he breathes, and the pure innocence of his greeting melts your heart.

You can’t help but copy his smile as you make your way towards him, where he positively vibrates in place. “Hi to you too, handsome.” The cotton of his shirt is soft under your palms, and you meet his lips with a small kiss. The brush of his plush lips against yours makes you sigh against his mouth, and his hands sneak around your waist to grip your hips, keeping you in place against his chest.

He wasn’t going to let you sneak away with just the one kiss — he never does.

A more insistent press from his lips makes you part your own, and he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

“Guys,” Steve whines, “Get a fucking room — I don’t want to see that shit!”

The effort to pull away from Bucky’s lips is beyond tolerable, but you refuse to turn and look at Steve as you say, “Sorry, bro,” with little to no remorse for his fragile disposition as the older brother. Bucky does not tear his focus from you, rather, his lips quirk in a playful smirk at your snark.

Unbeknownst to you and behind your back, your brother’s mouth upturns in a smile; the two most important people in his life finally together and so sickeningly in love.

As of a few weeks ago, Bucky and you started officially dating after a shy, whispered question during the late Sunday morning of your first weekend together.

Bucky’s small, timid question of what the two of you were once he dragged you back to bed — after the clean-up from a spilled gift basket in his haste — set the butterflies in your stomach aflame.

Of course, there was no other answer but to rid the doubt in his mind and reassure him.

From then on, the two of you lived in your own bubble of bliss. You, over the moon to finally be with your long-time crush; Bucky, unbelieving of the reality that he has and is deserving of the girl of his dreams, who loves and nurtures all aspects of him.

The only way to describe you both during this honeymoon phase is inseparable — spending every single spare moment through college life with one another.

But no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, and spend more time staring at his handsome features, your art finals were also crucial business — as was keeping Bucky’s GPA intact. The scholarship he revered depended on it.

Steve’s voice brings you from the torrent of memories and back to the present where Bucky held you fast against his chest still. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You reach around Bucky’s neck and twirl your fingers through his hair before whispering loud enough for only him to hear, “Ready to go, Puppy?”

The red flush of his cheeks and the part of his lips has you trying to hide the satisfied smirk that threatens to pull at the corner of your mouth — his new nickname borne from a quick-witted quip you thought nothing of, truly is one of your greatest accomplishments to date.

You remember it perfectly.

Bucky leaned against the headboard, his lips in a full pout, and arms crossed tightly across his chest. The bare expanse of skin was shadowed by the low light of your bedside lamp. “No,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows with his sudden, foul mood.

“Bucky— come on, we have to eat something,” you reiterated for the umpteenth time.

“No.” The dramatics of his brooding had you struggling to rein your laughter in.

“We’ve been cuddling for three hours,” you insisted, deciding to reason with the stubborn idiot. “I literally heard your stomach rumble an hour ago. You need food.”

Bucky sulked. “No. Only need you.”

“Oh my god,” you giggled, “you look like a kicked puppy, Bucky.”

There was a deep, impatient huff, and then he stared at you, an expression of longing covering his features. It only exaggerated his puppy eyes.

A bright idea came to you then, the comparison may just be what you needed to make the boy move… “Here, boy,” you called, patting your thigh with one hand and snapping your fingers with the other. “Come on, who’s a good boy? Huh? You want a treat, baby? Do you wanna be a good pup for me?”

Bucky’s reaction was more than you could have ever hoped for — his entire body became deathly still for a moment, then his arms slackened to fall onto the bed and a deep flush of blotchy red trailed up from his chest and up to his neck.

You would have been worried about overstepping if you hadn’t spotted the dazed, glassy look in his eyes, darkening the cerulean to an Aegean blue.

Bucky liked it.

The praise, humiliation, spliced with a pinch of demand — the entirely accidental recipe for how to break him.

Ever since then, Bucky’s new nickname causes the most visceral reaction he so desperately tries to hide, with very little success. The quiet hitch of his breath has you trying to keep your composure, and if only to tease him a little more, you wink at him.

In the present, he chokes on a sharp intake of breath and coughs.

There’s a quiet, short bout of laughter behind you from Steve, but you focus on Bucky while he catches his breath, still beet red. “You ready to go, Buck?” you repeat, squeezing the back of his neck.

The rapid semblance of composure did nothing to hide the effect your words have. He blows out a breath, and stutters a determinedly stoic, “Y–yeah— almost, just gotta— um— run and g–get my jacket.”

You hum and bump your nose against his before stepping back to let him breathe, “Okay, Buck. I’ll be waiting by the door.”

Bucky wastes no time in spinning around before taking off like a shot down the hallway towards his bedroom. As he disappears, you chuckle to yourself and wonder how embarrassed he will be when he realises that he is already wearing a hoodie.

“You’re wicked.” Steve stands with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. But by the small smirk upturning his lips, you know he’s just as entertained with Bucky’s fumbling than you are. “He’s so whipped.”

Before you have a chance to retort, a honeyed, feminine voice calls from your brother’s room. “Steve, stop hounding your sister and leave her be! You promised me a foot rub.”

“Oh?” It's your turn to cock your eyebrow, and you watch, all too righteously, while his cheeks turn bright red. “Remind me who’s the whipped one again, hm?”

Steve flounders in place, his mouth opening and closing while he searches for the words to no doubt put you back in your place, but another voice beats him to it by calling out to you from the hallway. “Flower, you have no idea! Last week I got him to–”

“Okay! That’s enough of that,” Steve interrupts, quick to shut down the reveal before it knew the light of day. He stalks down the hallway towards his bedroom, and as he goes, he yells over his shoulder at you, “Enjoy your time with Buck, sis, please don’t break him, we’ve got training tomorrow. Love ya — see you next week!”

The door slams shut just as Bucky appears around the corner, clad in both a hoodie and a jacket, and his eyes dart everywhere around the room but at you. The realisation must have hit him, and he was far too stubborn to come back empty handed.

Decidedly, you don’t question him on it. Instead, you hold your hand out to him and say, “Come on, handsome, we’ve got some studying to do.”

And just like that, Bucky’s face lights up and he bounces towards you to interlace his fingers with yours. He follows you with ease while you lead him out his apartment to the elevator, the doors opening for you instantly for the both of you to step in.

The floor numbers descend on the screen, and a companionable, comfortable silence floats in the air. Until you turn to the side when you feel the stare of your boyfriend.

Bucky’s blue eyes shine brightly while he looks you up and down, taking you in once more, and your heart flutters against your chest with the soft smile pulling at his lips. “You look beautiful today,” he whispers, a line of worship that makes your stomach flip. While holding your gaze, he lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of it.

If the heart eyes from the cartoons were real, then your boyfriend takes the gold.

You barely fight the urge to squeal out loud with the show of heartfelt adoration. “Thank you, baby.”

The elevator doors open with a swoosh as you reach the ground floor. Squeezing his hand gently, you begin to lead him out the lift and towards the exit. “Let’s get going — we gotta make sure you ace this test.”

In the beginning, it took a while to process that you were Bucky’s girlfriend — an ease unlike any other helped you both fit together so seamlessly, as though you had been dating for far longer.

That same ease also makes itself known in your shared sexual compatibility.

Ever since that fateful movie night back in Steve and Bucky’s apartment, the two of you went no further than making out at every opportunity that presents itself (or that you make) and grinding against each other until you both came — though it didn’t stop you both from doing it a lot.

Sex for the first time is a big deal. Bucky’s admission of still being a virgin, and his comfort being your priority, you take every old and new venture into pleasure at his pace. But your hesitance is met with an unprecedented hunger that leaves you breathless with need, every single time.

Bucky’s eagerness to feel you against him, the heat of your bodies intermingling as best they can between the layers of clothing always made him feral with want, and each time he ventures closer, further than he did before in his exploration of your body, it grows with such passion it scorches your skin.

You were going to wait on his signal no matter how long it took. But a few signs were telling you, however, that Bucky wants it.

Recently, your boyfriend has been a little more desperate, more so than usual.

His whines and whimpers turn from breathy and high, to deep, animalistic sounds that send shivers up your spine. Bucky was already putty in the palm of your hands at the best of times, and to witness him let go of his inhibitions was addicting — you wanted more of him, and you have the inclination that he longs for the same.

And although the both of you swore to one another that you would head to the campus library to focus on your studies, somewhere along the way, your feet took you straight back to your dorm room and into your bedroom.

Your giggles and sighs echo off the walls, along with the rustling sound of your bed covers. “That tickles!”

Bucky, the clever, sly boy he is, figured out far too quickly where the sensitive spots on your neck are. “‘M sorry, baby,” he whispers against your neck, his breath hot and fanning over the delicate skin. His sweet, tender kisses start to turn heated — more passionate and intense as his hands begin to wander over your body.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes against the curve of your jaw. “You smell so good, Buttercup — could jus’ eat you up.”

You softly moan in reply. The sudden hunger in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine and settle heavily between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls, and he rolls his body over yours, forcing you to lay flat against the mattress. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he trails sloppy kisses from the curve of your mouth and down the slope of your neck. “Atta girl, good girl.”

The feel of his lips against your skin makes your eyes flutter closed, and it’s entirely impossible to withhold your upper body rising with the arch of your back, pushing your covered breast up against his chest.

You can’t help but think of how confident Bucky has grown in such little time — his boldness only adding fuel to the fire.

Bucky firmly grips your waist in his hands with a thready moan, and he slowly, torturously inches them up towards the bottom of your tits. You feel the brush from the tips of his thumbs through the fabric of your bra and shirt, the pressure of them indescribable.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he tests a roll of his hips into you. The high moan that tumbles from your lips jolts him, and he thrusts forward with a small, disjointed groan — the heavenly pleasure of grinding his cock against your clothed cunt almost too much for him to bear. “Feel so good, Bee — holy fuck.”

You grin up at him, squeezing your knees against his hips. Another thing Bucky grew confident in: being vocal in the bedroom. His litany of curses and range of vocabulary comes to life if he loses himself enough; bold in his actions, he takes charge more and it leaves you a wreck every single damn time.

“Gotta keep going, baby,” he pants into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “don’t make me stop, please don’t make me stop.” The desperation in his voice is as addicting as the pleasure he so freely gives, and you moan loudly to the ceiling. His pure, feral need to take what he wants only sends you closer to the edge. “Fuck–”

Your whines and pleas for more mix with his deep grunts on every grind into you. “Bucky, don't you dare stop,” you gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and wrinkling his shirt in your grip. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he promises as he pants against your neck. “Not gonna stop till you fuckin’ cum for me, Buttercup.”

You grab onto the back of his thighs, forcing him to rock against you faster. Harder.

Bucky’s whimpers only serve to drive you crazier and with wild abandon, you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. “So close, baby. Almost there— oh, fuck,” you cry.

Bucky bites the skin of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly and moan.

“Fuck, doll,” he groans, and he swallows your whines with frenzied need, his tongue laving over yours. The harsh pants for air when he pulls back to speak send you into a whimpering mess. “Drivin’ me crazy, Bee. Need you so bad, you got no idea—”

“Keep going, please, keep going!”

“—Gotta have you,” he grunts. “Need these fuckin’ clothes off — wanna see your perfect body.”

It’s hopeless to keep your moans at bay. His ferocity has you on the edge and your thighs shake as you balance on the precipice. “Gonna— gonna cum.” You tangle your fingers into his damp hair and pull. “Bucky, baby—”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky coos. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry—”

“Please, please, please!” you frantically beg. The knot in your stomach is wound tight; the fast rhythm of Bucky’s thrusts pushing it to the point of shattering.

With a slight shift in angle of Bucky’s hips, the tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit through your leggings, and you scream from the sheer ecstasy that flows through your veins with your climax. “Cumming! I’m cumming— oh my god, I’m cumming!”

Bucky’s hips falter, and he chokes out a raspy moan, “Fuck!”

The shattering of built-up tension rushes over the two of you; harsh moans fall from Bucky’s parted lips while he rides out his high, his hips continuing to grind against you.

It all falls on deaf ears while fire still runs through your veins.

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, finally slowing down his breathing and stopping the faltering, aborted thrusts of his hips. The growing wet patch that stains the crotch of his sweatpants no longer makes his cheeks flush with shame.

Quiet whimpers and gasps for breath leave you unable to speak, to utter just how wrecked you feel beneath him.

“Holy fuck,” Bucky repeats, and he gently rests his lower half against yours while carefully keeping his upper body propped up on his elbows. “That was–” Hot breaths fan over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. “So fuckin’ good.”

You laugh breathily and squeeze his shoulders, the press of your fingertips meeting hard, strong muscle.

It’s a peaceful moment; a serene bliss you only find in the comfort of Bucky’s arms. It feels right to be cocooned in his warmth — your boyfriend always making you feel safe.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky says softly, placing a quick kiss to your nose, then a lingering, passionate one on your lips. “I can’t– fuck, can’t believe you’re mine.”

You smile brightly up at him, lost for words, and with a tired huff, he rolls off of your body to lay beside you. Your chests rise and fall in a soothing sense of synchronisation.

The slow drain of adrenaline from your body erupts in a sudden fit of giggles.

Bucky blinks, then smiles hesitantly, a confused quirk of his lips. “What’s so funny, Buttercup?”

“I just–” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop your laughter so you’re able to respond to him. “Sorry– it’s just a little crazy to me how you’re not as shy as you used to be.” A teasing smirk pulls at your lips. “You’ve gone a little rogue, Pup.”

Heat creeps up Bucky’s neck and covers his cheeks with an adorable red flush. Even if your man has gained a lot of confidence, he will never be able to rid the bashful puppy inside of him.

“I should be worried,” you tease. “You’re giving me a run for my money.”

“Right, that’s it.” Bucky suddenly shoots up and climbs over you, pinning you in place with his hips and thighs. One of his hands snakes up your arm, then the other, and you shiver with the ghost of sensation, only, he smirks. “I’ve got you now.”

Your wrists are suddenly together, unable to move from the top of the bed and in the grip of his hand. “Hey–!”

There’s a wicked, playful glint in his darkening eyes as he looks down at you. “You’ll learn, Bee, that I’m not a man to be teased.” The hand he has free begins to flit over your ticklish spots.

“Bucky,” You warn as you nervously chuckle, trying to edge away from his touch. “Don’t you even think about it.”

That doesn’t deter him though. He runs the tips of his fingers, a feather light touch, underneath your tank top. “Oh, no– no, no,” he tuts. “I have the upper hand now, baby.”

“No!” you loudly squeal, trying to kick your feet to dislodge the weight of Bucky’s athletic build over your lower half, but it’s of no use.

You burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter — tears start streaming down your cheeks while your boyfriend watches in cruel amusement above you. “Where did all that fighting talk from earlier go, huh, Buttercup? Where did it go?”

“Okay, okay! I– I lose, you w–win!”

With a satisfied sigh, Bucky yields and lets go of your wrists to bring one hand down to your waist, closely following with the other as he starts to gently stroke the exposed skin of your middle.

“You’re too easy, baby,” he chuckles, fondness bursting over his features.

“Yeah, well,” you sigh in defeat. “You played dirty. Best believe I’ll get you back, big guy.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you both while you breathe heavily and close your eyes against the exhaustion overtaking your limbs. The rush of endorphins and all manner of happiness still flowing through your veins.

Until, “Did I go too far?” Bucky asks suddenly, his voice timid, small.

The tone of his question indicates a sense of duality — he’s not just asking only about the tickle fight.

You open your eyes to the view of his long hair hiding the two of you from the world; your room obscured by the curtain of it. The bright, shining blue of his irises steals your breath with the depth of emotion swimming in them — keeping you firmly within the bubble the two of you created in your passion.

“Oh, Bucky,” you whisper soothingly, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek — the soft strands of his hair against your fingertips sends an unprompted shiver down your spine. You move your hand from his cheek so your index finger could press against his nose, then up to smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Not at all, handsome.” An effortless smile pulls at your lips, one that he hesitantly returns. “It was perfect, I promise.”

Though he doesn’t seem to settle. Something is on his mind, that was obvious — his tells are easy to decipher from the time you spent studying his expressions. When he is unsure, hesitant, the tip of his tongue runs over his bottom lip; when anxious, his shoulders hunch inwards in an attempt to make himself smaller.

Bucky swallows thickly.

You frown. “Are you okay, Puppy?”

The soft lilt of your voice soothes his worries, and he takes a deep breath before responding with a wavering, “I think I’m ready.”

The implication of such a comment makes your eyes widen slightly — while the possibilities are endless for what he could possibly be referring to, you’re almost certain you understand exactly what he means.

As though he suddenly realises how it could be interpreted, he barely whispers, “I w–wanna have— have sex.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice despite his courage to confess.

You blink once, twice, hesitating only for a second before opening your mouth to reply, to question him, but Bucky rushes to add, “With you.”

It’s your turn to swallow — despite the harsh dryness coating your throat. In the past, you had partners, summer flings. Few stayed, and even fewer were worth the trials and effort of a proper relationship. And through those couplings, sex became something that didn’t faze you.

With Bucky it feels different.

The connection is far more meaningful to you than any casual hookup from a club, and to know he is in a space where he is comfortable enough to place such vulnerability in the palms of your hands… It is not lost on you, the importance of his choice.

You look deep into his eyes while you seek his full consent — if only just to quell the doubt that swells within yourself. “You’re sure about this?”

“One hundred percent,” Bucky confidently assures. “I want all of you, Buttercup. And I wanna give you all of me.”

Fuck, you curse to yourself. You didn’t deserve him.

You nod, then say, “Alright, baby.” Bucky grins at you, and this time you rush to add, “Let me do this properly though, okay? I want to take you out; treat you like you deserve.”

A sudden sheepishness clouds his expression, and his eyes dart downwards to your lips while he licks his own. “Mhm,” he mumbles quietly, “Y–You can do that if— if you like.”

You take both of his cheeks in your hands, and you tilt his head up to place a soft, loving kiss to his swollen lips. When he makes direct eye contact with you, you whisper against his mouth, “You deserve the world, Pup — nothing less. So yes, I would love to.”

The night of the long anticipated date night arrived faster than you realise — after classes, study sessions, and accompanying Nat to the boy’s football training to cheer them on, time flew by in a blur.

As much as Bucky begged you for a scrap of a hint or clue for what you planned, you kept it under tight wraps; a lock and key that will not budge for even the sweetest of pleas.

It hasn’t been an easy task to stay strong against his wide, puppy eyes — on more than one occasion, you almost let slip. But with severe determination, you successfully keep it a secret.

And by god are you proud of yourself for such an achievement.

You know for sure that Bucky is going to enjoy himself tonight — every last stop pulled, and with the help from your brother for the venue, you feel confident in the plan.

That is, until you smooth over the invisible wrinkles of your dress for the umpteenth time while you make your way down the hallway towards their apartment, your stomach roiling with anxiety of the unknown. Will Bucky truly like it? What if he hates it–?

A hand with perfectly manicured, blood red nails grabs yours, and pulls your fidgeting fingers away from the seam of stitching to the pockets of your dress. “Babe, please stop panicking.” Natasha’s soothing tone brings you back down to earth. “You look incredible — Bucky isn’t going to know what hit him.”

After hearing of your plans from your brother, she was quick to offer her help with your makeup and hair, which you graciously and gratefully took her up on. You were desperate for some feminine support, and Nat came in the form of an angel sent from the heavens.

The way she worked her magic left you unable to believe it was you staring back at yourself in the mirror; hair flawlessly styled and makeup ethereal. A shaky sigh escapes you. “You really think so?”

All in all, as you walk down the hallway to the door that hides your date from view, arm in arm with your guardian angel, there is not one reason for why you are so anxious — though the pressure you place on yourself to make sure this date is perfect is among one of the chief suspects.

You meant, wholeheartedly, what you told Bucky before — he deserves the world, and you crave to hand it to him. “I mean–”

“Listen to me,” Nat says fiercely as she steps in front of you, blocking your path to the door of the apartment and stopping you in your tracks. Her hands grip your arms, tethering you to reality. “I know for a fact that boy is going to positively die when he sees you.”

The tension releases from your body with her comforting words, but Nat still goes above and beyond to bring you out of your spiral. “Hell, if I wasn’t already with your brother, I'd have snatched you up myself.”

You can’t help the small smile that quirks your lips for her instilled confidence, and she winks.

You’re grateful that Steve has found someone so genuine who you easily get along with. Natasha is a beautiful woman both inside and out, faultlessly honest and loyal — traits that are hard to find in a person, yet here she is, extending her help with little thought or expectation of it being returned.

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to convey how much you appreciate her. “Y–You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Maybe not.” Her hair bounces as she shrugs. “But us girls gotta stick together — especially now that we’ve got two helmet heads stuck to our back.”

“Come on.” Her arm hooks around yours, and she pulls you along. “Let’s go get your boy.”

Before you can blink, you are standing outside your brother’s apartment, and with a deep breath and moral support of the redhead on your arm, you bring your closed fist up to the wood. “Here we go.” Three, firm knocks ring through the silence, and you step back to wait.

The anticipation doesn't last very long at all before the door swings inwards with a flourish.

Steve stands in the entryway, his back turned towards you while he shouts into his apartment. “Hurry your ass up, Buck–!” You lightly switch your weight between your feet, waiting for him to turn around. “They’re at the door!”

There’s a clattering bang and more curses from inside the apartment, when Steve finally turns around to greet you. “There’s my favourite girls—” He freezes in place, mouth slack from shock, and his eyes trail up and down your body. “Flower,” he gasps in awe. “Oh sis, you look so beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words immediately brings tears to your eyes, and Nat hisses at her boyfriend, “Hey, don’t ruin her makeup!”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says slowly, still taking you in. “I just– you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you.”

Nat hums happily while her hand rubs your shoulder. “Isn’t she? I said Bucky’s going to die when he sees her.”

“Guys,” You whine, the hot flush of embarrassment leaves you feeling utterly flustered.

Steve ignores you though, readily agreeing with his girlfriend as he opens the door wider to let you both enter. “She’s right, Flower. It suits you perfectly.”

A surge of giddiness hits you — after a time of intense deliberation of your wardrobe, you chose one of your favourite sundresses to wear for the special night, a spaghetti strap in a soft, cornflower blue. A small surprise and homage to someone special. “Thanks Stevie, I really appreciate–”

“Okay, okay, wait–” Bucky rounds the corner from the hallway as he enters the living room, interrupting you. “What about this one?”

The cufflinks on his navy blue button-up steal his whole attention, while his long, chocolate hair conceals you from his view. He struggles fastening the cuffs with the subtle shake of his fingers, and you can almost hear his inner frustration when he huffs an annoyed breath, blowing strands of hair from his face. “Dammit, I swear–”

You stand there with thin lips to contain your laughter while waiting for him to look up.

“Steve?” Bucky asks frustratedly after he doesn’t receive an immediate response. “Do you think Buttercup will like this outfit or not–” His head tilts upwards, hair falling either side of his handsome face that is painted with exasperation at being ignored, and his words falter.

Blue eyes widen in surprise to find you standing there next to his best friend.

“Oh– fuck,” Bucky gasps, and his jaw slackens with the gravity of your presence; truly awe stricken by the sight of your opulent outfit and appearance. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps uselessly around his inability to speak.

The click of your shoes against the floorboards doesn’t snap him out of his daze let alone register in his mind, so deep in his fixation of you.

You take the chance to admire his appearance.

The navy, button-up shirt clings to his broad shoulders, accentuating the definition of the muscles all the way down to his forearms, and with each movement, the material tightens sinfully. The top few buttons of his shirt are left undone — a choice you’re most thankful for because of the tease of his bare chest. Black slacks fit snug to his hips and grip his thick thighs.

On any normal day, when Bucky wasn’t out in the field in his football gear, he normally stuck to his casual clothing of an old t-shirt and sweatpants — comfort over presentability, not that you ever complain about the sight of him in sweats. But this is the first time you’ve ever seen him remotely dressed up.

You walk towards him and grab his hands with yours, stopping his absentminded fidgeting — gravity keeping him routed in place.

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, Bucky,” you say, gazing into his eyes while you wonder how lucky you are to hold his attention in a room of his favourite people. “If that answers your question.”

“My god, Bee,” he whispers, finally able to give a voice to the flock of thoughts circling his mind. “You look stunning, baby — ethereal.” He laughs, a little deliriously. “You’re kinda killing me here.” His large hands encircle yours, bringing them up to hold against his chest.

There’s so much emotion in his eyes as they dart over your figure like there’s not enough time in the world for him to take you in.

“Give us a spin!” Nat calls into the charged air while she clings onto Steve’s arm, who watches on teary eyed.

Bucky takes one of your hands and lifts it into the air, encouraging you to twirl. The skirt of your dress fans out around your thighs, and you can’t help but grin wide as your boyfriend whistles low. “You're a goddamn dream, Buttercup.”

He guides you back into his hold, before gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to bump his nose against yours. “And all mine.”

The way Bucky’s stare burrows deep into your soul and makes a home where he rightfully belongs — it takes everything you have to not blurt out the three words residing on the tip of your tongue, but something has you biting your lip against the impulse.

Instead of declaring aloud what your mind and heart feel, you settle with another truth, “And you, Bucky Barnes, are a sight for sore eyes.”

A dusting of pink spreads high over his cheeks, and you take pride in being able to fluster him so easily — your adorable Pup would never lose his bashfulness.

“What did I tell you, honey?” Natasha bumps her hips against Steve’s as she snickers into her hand. “He’s practically drooling over her.”

You join in with their laughter while Bucky pulls you close and buries himself into your neck, even more flustered from the insistent teasing, and he grumbles low into your ear, “Great, now there’s two of them.”

Leaning back to better look at his flushed face, you assure him, “I think you’re adorable, baby.”

His eyes twinkle with a spark only you could ever bring out of him. “I’m excited for the night, Bee,” Bucky declares, honest and sweet.

“Me too, handsome,” you readily agree while you step back, the small hops of uncontainable excitement making Steve and Nat chuckle. “Are we all set to leave?”

“Oh!” Nat cries, “Before you forget—” She slips out of Steve’s hold and rushes into the kitchen, coming back a second later with a wicker basket full of food, the very same that she insisted on when she first found out about your date. With a wink, she hands it to you. “You can’t leave without this.”

“You’re an angel,” you praise, walking towards her and holding your arms wide for a hug. She readily accepts it and kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you so much for this.”

Just as you step back from her embrace to grab her offering, Bucky swoops in and grabs the basket before you can even touch the wicker handle. “Hey! Excuse me, Barnes,” you scold, frowning at him. “I am more than capable of carrying that.”

“I know,” Bucky teases while he walks backwards towards the apartment door, a devilish grin on his lips. “But I don’t care for a picnic basket gettin’ in the way and ruinin’ the view of my girl in a pretty dress.”

Your jaw drops from his suave words, and you stand there, flustered as you watch his retreating form. Without looking, he opens the door with his free hand and bids farewell to his best friend with a nod, then he smiles at Nat.

Bucky then looks to you. The flick of his hair as he nods towards the hallway pulls you from the reverie. “Come on, beautiful. The night is young; the possibilities endless.”

Where the hell has he gotten his silver tongue from? your mind questions.

“He’s gotten too smooth for his own good,” Steve comments as though he read your mind, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You don’t say,” you reply easily. To get to the door, you walk past your brother, and he slips a folded piece of paper into your hand while Bucky is walking into the hallway, his back turned. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Steve grins. “Have fun, Flower — you deserve this.” Naturally, it wouldn’t be a traditional sibling farewell without a departing shout of, “And make sure you wear protection, shithead!”

The Brooklyn streets are aglow from the overhead lights while the moon creeps up the horizon, watching over you and Bucky holding hands. He blindly follows you towards your best kept secret.

“Let me get this straight.” Bucky swings your arm with his gently. “You’re telling me I can’t have any clues about where you’re taking me?”

“Nope,” you respond, staying strong to your oath of silence. “We’re a couple of blocks away, you dummy. You’re going to find out in five minutes — be patient, I know it’s hard.”

“C’mon, Bee,” Bucky begs. “You don’t wanna put a poor man out of his misery?” He lightly tugs on your intertwined hands to spin you into his chest.

“Hey–” You look up at him to find his eyes hooded with barely restrained lust.

“I almost died already after seeing you in that dress for the first time, and now you’re torturing me, I have to watch you walk in front of me in the damned thing.”

Oh, you laugh to yourself. He’s really turning the charm up.

“Puppy,” you whisper breathily, intentionally running a hand down his chest. The action and your touch makes Bucky shudder. “Believe me when I say I could make you do a lot worse.”

A deep flush of red paints his cheeks and spreads blotchily down his neck, and his breath hitches when you cup his jaw in your palm. “Be good for me, and be patient,” you warn, the fan of your breath over his lips only worsening his flustered state. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Y–Yeah, okay–” He clears his throat and sets you back onto your feet, though he does not release your hand.

A flash of mischief darkens his eyes when you pull him onwards, and you look over your shoulder at him when he says, “Yes ma’am.”

That is something you could get used to hearing. “Atta boy.”

The rest of the walk is quiet but calm — a mutual contentment stretching between the two of you where words aren’t needed.

You know that around the next street corner lay your surprise, and Bucky still has no idea what is in store — the piece of paper that Steve gave you begins to burn a hole in your dress pocket.

The exclamation of surprise that falls from Bucky’s lips when he lays eyes on the museum makes all the effort worth it, though it grows to a state of clear confusion from the furrowing of his brows. “Wait, it’s late — isn’t it closed?”

“Come on,” you say in reply, and instead of going to the main entrance, you lead Bucky towards an alleyway where Steve told you the back entrance for staff is situated.

The crinkle of paper is louder than the cheering crowd at a football game, and you grip the invaluable information as you near the locked door. Steve’s offering rings in your mind: It will get you into the main foyer, from there, you’re gonna need to get sneaky.

Bucky’s hand squeezes yours in an attempt to get your attention. “Bee?”

You’re too homed in on the memory of Steve talking to you about your plan — one of their teammates works within the museum, and he was able to pull a few strings and call in a couple of favours for the gold mine in your hand.

You determinedly walk towards the keypad built into the wall next to the door and unfold the note. In the process, you let Bucky’s hand go — you instantly feel the loss of connection.

“Um— Buttercup,” he chuckles nervously, glancing over his shoulders to spot any onlookers. “I think this is classified as illegal trespassing right now.”

“I mean,” you say, then you stick your tongue between your teeth as you work the six-digit code from the piece of paper to the keypad. The low tone press of each digit covers up the shuffle of feet behind you. “Bucky, it’s okay — it’s safe.”

“But–” He hesitates when the mechanism clicks to signify it's open.

You look at him and suddenly grasp the idea that he is anxious — his football scholarship and prospective future could be ripped away from him within the hour should the two of you get caught by the authorities.

“Hey, hey, we’re good — no one’s gonna catch us, I swear,” you assure. Though he still looks on edge. You don’t want Bucky to feel apprehensive for the sake of his headspace or the rest of the evening, and your only option is to offer him your most sincere form of faith. You hold out your hand, palm up. “We’re gonna be okay. Trust me?”

There’s a small, nervous twitch of a smile on his lips, and then, finally, his tense shoulders and posture relax as he steps forward and sets his hand into yours with an ease that shocks you, only strengthening the solid connection you have.

“Come on.” Bucky follows behind you, a slight laugh on his breath as you all but run into the museum.

Different eras of evolution pass by in a flash; hundreds of exhibits dedicated to all corners of the world go ignored in lieu of taking Bucky to one place that, normally, was not an easy area to walk through and explore, given how popular the exhibit is.

By the time you reach the doors hidden behind a set of double, velvet curtains, you’re out of breath. “O—kay,” you pant, hands on your hips as you slightly bend forward. “We’re — we’re here.”

Your boyfriend, the teasing bastard he is, chuckles while he extends a hand to your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

The bastard hasn’t even broken a sweat.

“Fine — I’m fine,” you gasp, and you gesture at the curtains. “Come on, I can’t hold it in any longer–” The heels of your shoes click over the floor, and you push aside the curtains to reveal the door — only then do you turn around and smile at Bucky. “Here we go.”

The doors fly open with a flourish and reveal a domed planetarium with the signage above a giant moon: A Journey Through The Stars.

It is a coveted event within the science community, and only after you hear of it through whispers in the halls of your dorms and classes did you realise it was perfect.

Darkness cloaks and envelopes the two of you as you step inside — Bucky moving slowly in his daze of amazement. On strings and platforms above and lining the dome ceiling are twinkling lights and stars, the only source of lumination to show the wonderment in his cerulean blues.

You watch from a distance with bated breath while Bucky stares to the ceiling, mouth agape, taking in the moving three-dimensional hologram above him and everything it has to offer.

The galaxy, with its swirls of pinks, purples, and blues among millions of stars, are brought to life before his very eyes. Planets thousands of times bigger than the two of you cross and circle one another above your heads, closer than either of you could have ever thought possible, and yet, still only just out of reach — the concept achieves the impossible.

In the end, you realise as you stare at Bucky, your heart swelling with the love that courses through you, that you have gone beyond the very goal you were desperate to attain; to give Bucky Barnes the world.

He spins on the spot, eyes bright with a childlike awe you have only ever seen on the mornings you've woken up in his arms. The glow of the celestial wonders captures in that second, a memory that will last forever — the sight of your man, the centre of your world, underneath the stars.

Ever so slowly, Bucky delicately brings his gaze back down to earth, and notices the distance between the two of you. His voice echoes across the room, off of the planets and stars as he asks with a waver in his voice, “H–How did you know?”

You smile. “That you’re kind of an astronomy nerd?”

Bucky only nods his head, still at a loss for words. Strands of his neatly tucked hair fall over his eyes, and you take a deep breath and steady your own voice. “Do you remember our first movie night with Stevie and Nat?”

There is a small hum of acknowledgement from deep in his throat.

“Well,” you continue, “I remember the two of them were arguing, it took them ages to settle on a film choice. I was beginning to lose my tether.” The recollection of the memory — their voices and banter make you chuckle. “Anyway, a trailer came up on the TV for an upcoming film about an astronaut getting stuck in space — the Martian, maybe? I’m not too sure.”

He is purely focused on you as you speak, and you begin to recall your favourite part of the memory with a fond smile, ignoring the slight lump in your throat from the overwhelming flood of fondness and adoration. “But I watched– I watched as your head snapped up instantly. You were enamoured, Bucky — I’ve never seen you so hooked into anything more in my life.”

Time freezes as Bucky stands there, unmoving and speechless. The lack of reaction from him makes your stomach twist with nerves, and you rush to fill the silence, rambling on, “Then I noticed the smaller things. Your stack of astronomy books on your nightstand, the NASA merch I find when I steal one of your sweaters.” A small laugh escapes then at his incredulous expression. “And so, I went out on a whim, piecing everything together, and I– well, I thought I should try my chances.”

“You really—” Bucky swallows the lump stuck in his throat. “You noticed all of that?”

“Of course I did, Bucky,” you tell him with reverence. “How could I not notice something you’re in love with?” The colours of the night sky shimmer over his face and over the sheen in his eyes as he stares at you. Hesitantly, you ask, “D–Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” He repeats, huffing a breath. “Do I– do I like it–?”

There’s a thud as the basket he was holding falls to the floor, and you gasp while he storms towards you and picks you up around your waist to spin you around in the air.

His grin is wide while you squeal with shock. “Damn right I like it!” he shouts with pride. “My girl is the fucking best!”

“Ah–! Bucky!” The skirt of your dress flutters over your thighs as you hold onto his shoulders.

He whoops and yells his happiness, and after a few rotations, he carefully places you back down onto the floor, only he doesn’t stop his persistent touch — kisses scatter over your face, never lingering in one place for more than a second.

“You’re — so — amazing.” His lips move downwards from your face to your jaw, then your neck. “Can’t — believe — you’re — actually — mine.”

The ache in your stomach flutters from your laughter, though you are on cloud nine and find it difficult to care when the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long is kissing your face like there is no tomorrow.

Eventually, Bucky begins to calm down, settling his forehead against yours while wrapping his hands around your waist. “This means everything to me, Buttercup.” He grants you a slow, final kiss to your lips. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome, sweet boy.” You move closer into his chest and peck him on the lips. “Now let’s have that picnic.”

The two of you sit under the largest planet, and you dive into the contents of the picnic basket to find Natasha has packed a whole range of finger foods from sandwiches, mini cakes, to strawberries and grapes. A small bottle of your favourite drink is tucked into the side of the basket, next to two glasses.

After a toast, “To what the universe has planned for us,” you both bask in one another’s company — two tiny specks of the universe coming together as one.

You listen intently as Bucky excitedly rambles about the different planets, as well as his love for Mars in particular. The gesticulation and smile on his face is priceless, and you only wish you had thought to bring a camera.

Bucky continues endlessly — listing interesting facts about each planet and star he knew, and he goes into detail about any active NASA projects or upcoming ones he’s been keeping track of.

Not only is he an avid storyteller, he makes sure to involve you in the conversation, engaging you with silly questions on whether you believe in other life out there, and any of your thoughts you have about historical space ventures.

It is easy to fall into step with his passion, and you know that you could stare all night as his whole face lights up, especially his eyes, while he talks about something he thought no one noticed before.

But you did.

The highlight is when Bucky begins to talk about star constellations — his love and adoration surpassing that of anything you had heard from him before.

He sits behind you, legs resting either side of your body while he holds you to his chest with one arm, the other pointing up towards the dome ceiling. “You see that one there, Bee?” There’s a cluster of twinkling stars in the direction of his gesture. “The large rectangle one — that’s Orion.”

The soothing rumble of his voice against your back is remedying — home.

“It’s also known as Orion The Hunter,” Bucky explains further. “A Greek name, but its true origin is believed to come from the ancient times of Babylon.”

“It’s beautiful, Bucky,” You sigh happily. The cluster and the whole of the night’s sky is truly beautiful — once they were just a pattern of lights in the sky to you, now they hold far more meaning.

“Yeah,” your boyfriend agrees. You don’t see how his eyes flicker down to you, rather, you only feel his cheeks rising in a smile. “It is.” He clears his throat. “The constellation includes two of the brightest stars in the sky.”

“Really?” You hunch forward a little to look upwards.

“Mhm,” Bucky confirms with a hum.

With a huff of effort, you push yourself up onto your feet, and walk closer to the constellation until you are directly underneath the pattern of stars. It’s with a new appreciation you stare up at the twinkling lights that you didn’t have before — admiring the complexity of the placement but the simple beauty of it.

The reflection from the dome ceiling illuminates onto your skin, tattooing patterns of a realm that will never be discovered for its full existence.

Bucky, however, focuses entirely on you — his girl, in a reality the two of you once never thought possible.

A shuffling of feet comes from next to you, and Bucky stands and makes his way towards you. He places both of his hands onto your cheeks to tilt your head back down, to be back in the present with him. “Maybe not the brightest. But that’s okay, because that one is only meant for me anyway.”

It’s sudden, but it consumes you whole — mind, body, and soul — of the realisation that Bucky Barnes is the love of your life.

You fight the tears threatening to bubble to the surface, though it’s futile — a few escape and trail down your cheeks to collect on Bucky’s thumbs. Those three pesky words fight to spill from your heart and out into the open, to hang in the closing distance between Bucky and you.

But somehow, it doesn’t seem like the right time. A fragile moment that while you know could truly never break, uttering those words feels like it will shatter the last of your resolve.

And so, you save them; sealing your mouth closed with a sworn promise to let them go soon.

Seconds go by as you collect yourself, and then you manage in a choked voice, “My, my — What have you done with my Bucky?”

“He’s still here,” Bucky vows. “You just make me so dizzy — so goddamn fuckin’ dizzy — that I’ll spill whatever comes to mind.”

That makes two of you.

You place your hands over his, still encapsulating your face. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl swoon, handsome.”

His lips turn upwards in a lopsided grin that shows a slither of his pearly whites. “I would find a way to pull the moon out of the sky if you asked me to, Buttercup.”

There is no doubt in your heart over that — Bucky would go to the ends of the earth for you. But you didn’t need that, you have everything you could wish for already in the palm of your hands. “Lucky for you, I’ll only ask for a dance underneath it.”

Bucky’s lopsided grin turns into a thousand-watt smile, as bright as the stars above you both. “Now that is something I can make happen.”

There’s no music, no beat for the two of you to follow, but that doesn't stop Bucky from gathering you closer to his chest — his arms cross over your back to pull you flush with his front.

You turn your head to the side and lay your cheek against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to better hold him.

The steady rhythm of his heart guides the steps to your dance, the slow sway side to side of your bodies. You feel the brush of his lips at your temple, then he mutters something under his breath; a barely there string of unintelligible words that do nothing but add to the peace of the moment.

Bucky sighs and hugs you tighter.

The night is only just beginning.

Part Three

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yawnderu · 5 months

Text

>Simon doesn't go to clubs, yet he'd do anything for bimbo!reader, even if it's out of his comfort zone. Adding a small dialogue of Simon being painfully brit when drunk from this post because I still giggle about it ejhfehjb

“C'mere, baby.” Your bare feet make contact with the floor as you walk to your boyfriend, who's waiting for you on the couch, a pair of stiletto heels next to him. It's a routine you know too well, putting your feet on his lap before you even realize it while he massages your ankles, offering you a small smile.

“Make sure you don't fall.” He teases and you push him away with your feet, only making him hold them in both hands and push back until your legs are folded, getting up just to steal a kiss from you.

“You rat!” Your giggle rings across the room as you try to push him away again, yet he's too strong to even move until he feels like it, sitting back down and starting to put your heels on, making sure the straps are safely secured before he helps you get up from the couch. He still can't wrap his head around the fact that you walk around in 6-inch stiletto heels with ease, but they were on your wishlist and whatever his princess wants, she gets.

Simon doesn't do clubs. It's loud, it's crowded, and he looks just about ready to take you back home until you strut to him, a big smile on your pretty face as you pass him a third glass of bourbon. He downs it after mouthing a small ''thank you'', feeling the warmth travel down his body.

“Come dance with me, Si!” You have to scream over the music, taking his free hand before he can even think about it. He reluctantly lets you pull him to the dance floor, despite feeling so out of place. He can't resist denying you, not when you look so happy and excited to be here with him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your body rubbing against as you dance is almost intoxicating. He looks down at you, brown eyes fully taking in the sight— your hair moving with your body as you dance and sing, a happy smile on your face before you take a sip of your pretty drink. You're the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen.

His hand goes down to your waist to support you in case you twist your ankle while wearing your pretty stilettos. He looks down at your lips for a second before his gaze locks on yours, unable to look away. Maybe it's the alcohol affecting his body, but he dares to lean down to capture your lips with his, pulling you closer and allowing your bodies to move together to the rhythm of the music. He pulls away, his hand going up to the middle of your back before he does something really stupid.

“I'm getting us more drinks!” You yell over the music, already walking away before he can stop you. He's used to drinking one or two glasses of bourbon, not four while out in a club, the flashy lights just making him dizzier. He pushes the thoughts to the back of his head, feeling your arms wrap around him from behind, taking the glass from you before you can spill it.

“Thank you.” Simon was never one for PDA, yet he's leaning down to kiss you again, his hand lingering on the small of your back for way longer than it should have. You turn around, sipping on your drink as you grind on him, too used to the clubbing scene to think about how Simon hasn't done anything like this before. Despite his stoic expression, he's actually having plenty of fun, his hand holding onto your waist to support you as you dance.

His attention is focused strictly on you. He loves how you're dancing for him and him alone. You're not dancing like this for other men or flirting with anyone— you're simply having fun with your boyfriend, and despite some of the men looking at you, you're only looking at him.

Simon lasted way longer than he thought, only making you turn around after an hour or so of dancing.

“Tired yet?” He lets your bodies sway to the generic pop song playing in the background, half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open. He drank more than he should— more than he has drank in public, and he's aware of it, yet he wants to bring you home before he's too drunk to be aware of his surroundings. You plant a small kiss on his nose now that he's laying down and he offers you a lazy grin, letting you guide him out of the club.

“Buss me a blem, love.” You raise an eyebrow at his words, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you help him walk, not wanting him to stumble around as you make your way back home. You have the route memorized, unlike him.

“A fag.” He clarifies, making you giggle nervously as you look up at him.

“Why do you want a gay m—” A stifled chuckle comes from above you, looking at the way Simon is trying to hold back his laughter. He's way too drunk for this shit.

“A cigarette, angel.” Realization hits your face as your glossy lips turn into an ''o'' shape, face lighting up when you can finally understand what he's saying.

“Don't have that either. The other one would have been easier to get...” You drag out, fumbling with the keys to your shared apartment before going inside, locking the door behind you. You go sit on the couch and Simon immediately beelines towards you, managing to sit down in front of you and attempt to undo the straps of your heels.

Was the buckle always this tiny? His fingers feel way too fucking big for the strap, yet he somehow manages, softly rubbing your feet to help ease the pain he knows you always feel after wearing them for a long time. His cheek is resting on your lap, your hand instinctively running through his short hair, massaging his scalp with your long acrylics.

“You okay, baby?” God, he could die right now. Your words are slurred, voice becoming even sweeter, your tone laced with concern. He can only manage to nod, trying his best not to fall asleep despite how comfortable your lap is. He can barely register how you get up, dragging him up by the arms— or well, trying. The bastard is way too heavy and tall for it.

“Up.” You say softly, not wanting your boyfriend to fall asleep on the couch. He grumbles before getting up, letting you make him lay down on the couch, making sure he's on his side. He didn't drink enough to throw up, but... just in case.

You disappear into the bathroom, coming up with a wet cloth and a basket full of skincare that you want to use on him. Your drunk brain is absolutely brilliant— wanting to take care of his skin while he's about to fall asleep. You steal a kiss from his lips before running the wet cloth over his face with care, wiping down all the sweat and grease on his skin.

His brown eyes focus on you as you start to massage a cool liquid all over his face, massaging it in circles with the pads of your fingers, careful not to poke him with your long nails.

“I love you.” It slips out of his lips before he can even think about it, looking away from you. You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down, anxiously waiting for something— anything. He flinches in surprise as your arms wrap around him tightly, small giggles of relief and happiness escaping your lips.

“I love you too, Si.”

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

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dante-mightdie · 6 months

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BlueCollar!Simon overthinking and feeling self conscious when him and his girl goes out for a date night, spotting some WhiteCollar!Men treating their girls like fancy jewelry galore. so his girl has to reassure him she would be by his side, that's she's here not for money but for love. <333 — 🖋️

you know exactly whats wrong when your man goes all silent, eyes glowering at the men in their fancy business suits. their obnoxious laughter filling the usually quiet bar that you and simon frequent for your date nights

shopping bags littering their tables, brand names that simon hasn;t even heard off splashed on the front please

thoughts of you inadequacy fill simon's head as he thinks about all the things he wants to give you but just can't afford. thinks about how pretty you'd look in all the clothes and jewellery that the women on those tables are wearing

you frown as you watch simons expression twist to one of frustration and sadness. your hand reaches across the table to grab his, snapping him from his thoughts

"what're you thinkin' about, lover?" you ask with a small smile, making huff out a laugh at the nickname he tells you to stop using for him

"do you wish I bought you that kinda stuff?" simon asks, nodding his head in the direction of one of the women sat the table

she looks stunning, you won't deny that. fresh blowout and manicure along with diamonds dripping from her neck, wrists and earlobes. glamourous rings glimmering in the light as she stirs her straw in her drink

paired with her beauty, however, is a very prominent look of melancholy and boredom as her boyfriend chooses to direct all of his attention towards his co-workers, flashing his business card and brushing her off every time she tries to get his attention

you glance back over to simon, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of your drink

"what does it matter? there's better things you can buy me." you say, interlocking your fingers with his from across the table

"like what?" he asks, genuinely curious to know what he can buy you to make you feel loved and appreciated

"you promised me a house." you say with a cheeky smile, "you know, for our kids."

"we haven' got any kids, darl." he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you

"no. but we will. I'd rather you buy me a future than any of that superficial shit anyway, si. we might not be rich but we've got way more than all of them combined because we have each other."

#mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #bluecollar!simon

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driverlando · 11 days

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✧.* GOOD GIRL

synopsis- Charles fucks you infront of a mirror and calls you good girl which has an effect on you (Charles leclerc x f!reader)

before you read- smut warning, minors dni!! If you like it, please reblog and follow! I’m new here and would appreciate the support. Thanks! :)

The bedroom was cast in the soft glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. You and Charles had always shared an intense passion, but tonight, there was a different kind of energy between you—a raw, untamed desire that crackled in the air like a live wire.

Charles stood behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips as you bent forward, your palms pressed against the cool surface of the dresser. The large mirror in front of you reflected the scene, giving you a clear view of your entwined bodies. Your eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, your lips parted in a silent moan as Charles thrust into you with a rhythm that was both relentless and perfectly controlled.

His movements were powerful, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. You felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, every nerve ending alight with sensation. Charles’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you with increasing intensity.

“Tu es si belle,” (you are so beautiful) he murmured, his voice dripping with lust as he watched you in the mirror. “Regarde-toi. Regarde ce que tu me fais.” (Look at yourself. Look at what you're doing to me)

Your breath hitched at his words, the eroticism of the moment heightened by his intense gaze. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection, the sight of Charles dominating you, your bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. Sweat aligned his muscular body, his chest red from the thrusting and pleasure, his hair falling into his forehead. It was like a scene straight out of a porno and it had you whimpering softly.

Suddenly, he delivered a sharp slap to your ass, the sound echoing through the room and sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You cried out, your body arching in response to the delicious sting. Charles’s hand then tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so you could see his reflection in the mirror.

You whined in protest when he paused, your body aching for more. “Push yourself back on me,” he commanded, his voice a low growl.

Your eyes widened in the mirror, your expression one of confusion and desire. “What?” you panted, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Push yourself back on me,” Charles repeated, his grip on your hair tightening slightly.

Tentatively, you began to move, pushing your hips back against him. The sensation was different, but incredibly arousing. You watched yourself in the mirror, your movements becoming more confident as you followed his instruction.

“Yeah… just like that… good girl,” Charles praised, his voice filled with approval.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your body responding with a newfound eagerness. You pushed back against him with more force, your eyes locked on his in the mirror. There was something intoxicating about the way he watched you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and admiration.

“Like this?” you asked breathlessly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Charles’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you. “Yeah, just like that… good girl,” he repeated, his voice shaky with need.

The praise seemed to ignite something within you, and you found yourself moving with more urgency, more desperation. Each time he called you a good girl, you felt a rush of pleasure that made you push back harder, seeking more of the sweet agony.

Charles noticed the effect his words had on you, a smug smile playing on his lips. He began to call you that more frequently, his voice a constant murmur of encouragement and praise. “Good girl… you’re doing so well… keep going…Mon amour”

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, the intensity of your coupling pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

With one final, powerful thrust, Charles sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You cried out, your voice echoing through the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Charles followed you into the abyss, his own release tearing through him as he held you close, your bodies locked together in a moment of perfect unity. You collapsed onto the nearby bed, your limbs entwined, hearts pounding in sync.

Breathless and sated, you lay together in a tangle of limbs, the room filled with the heady scent of your passion. Your head rested on Charles’s chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing soothing you.

“You’re amazing,” Charles mumbled into your hair, his voice lazy and content. “Mon chérie, you were incredible.”

You smiled, your eyelids heavy as you nuzzled closer to him. “You too,” you whispered, your words barely audible against the blanket. “So good.”

Charles reached over to the nightstand, grabbing his water bottle. “Here, drink some,” he murmured, holding it to your lips.

You took a few sips, the cool water refreshing you. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice a sleepy murmur.

Charles placed the bottle back on the nightstand after taking a sip or two himself and then wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I loved watching you in the mirror,” he said, his words muffled against the blanket. “Seeing you like that… it was something else.”

“Mmm,” you agreed, your eyes fluttering closed. “It was really hot.”

Charles’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. “We should do it again sometime,” he suggested, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You chuckled softly. “Definitely,” you agreed, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

As you drifted off to sleep, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the afterglow of your passion. Your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one scenarios #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #formula one smut #charles leclerc fanfic

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blooodsuckkr · 8 months

Text

♡ You're Ghost's wallpaper ♡︎

word count: 533

a.n. This is kind of rushed i apologise!!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Ghost wasn't the best at expressing his affection, he made that clear when your friendship first developed into more. so he likes to find small, silent ways to show his care.

Making you your favourite drink after a long day, Helping you with some of your paperwork,

Taking pictures of you.

Most of the time he makes sure you're oblivious, taking small candid pics when you're doing something he finds cute, sometimes sending them to you. He's essentially your personal photographer, he takes great pictures too somehow.

His personal favourite is one where you're sitting with your knees to your chest, gazing at the sunset with the softest smile. The way the sunlight bounces on your features always makes his heart skip a beat.

so that's the one he chose to light up his screen daily.

Since he's not one to use his phone a lot and he won't exactly tell you, you won't know about it. Maybe you know the photo exists if he sent it to you, but nothing more than that.

----

He wakes up one morning, taking a few minutes to gaze at your still-sleeping form curled up against him. Running his hand up and down your spine. The gentle glow of light peeking through the blinds,

He eventually managed to will himself away from your warmth, stealthily climbing out of bed so you could have a little longer to sleep. He wanders through to the bathroom to shower, ready to start his day.

You awake a little while later, the faint sound of water running explains the empty bed. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, planning to start breakfast. You don't notice Ghost’s phone is on the nightstand until a notification lights up the screen, allowing you to catch a glimpse of a familiar person in the background. you.

The sight brings a smile to your face, The sentiment swirling round your mind as you head to the kitchen.

You're barely halfway through making breakfast when Ghost wanders in, as if he could already smell the food. Wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and tilting his face into the side of your neck.

“Good morning si,” You murmur, a low hum vibrating from his chest in response.

Both of you bask in the comfortable silence as you continue your cooking, Ghost eventually detaching from you to make himself, and you, a cup of tea. Leaning back against the counter a few feet away from you.

You pick up the cup with a gentle sigh, bringing it to your lips and meeting his gaze, “I like your wallpaper.” You smile. He almost chokes on his tea, feeling his cheeks heat up almost as much as the cup in his hand. You can't help but giggle, it's not often you get to see him flustered.

“Spying on my phone now, love?” He teases, a small smirk distorting his lips, “Of course not, you left it in the open.” you reply. He hums, taking a sip of his drink. A silence filling the air once more, you turn back to your cooking before you hear his voice once more.

“I like my wallpaper too”

#call of duty #cod imagine #cod men #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #rambles #simon ghost riley #mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #cod modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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