#(turn down the volume to be lower while practicing because it was too loud for my brain)

[bmpmp3]

and of course here's the drawing from my recent voicevox cover~

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

synopsis: you act like a brat so diluc bends you over the bar counter at angels share with people drinking upstairs :)))

tags: vulgar language, voyeurism, edging, no protection, degradation, orgasm denial

wrd cnt: 1.1k+

a/n: rewrite/repost from first acc!

Imagine getting a little too tipsy at angels share during the later hours of the night.

You’ve taken far too many shots but how can you resist when it just gives you more chances to see Diluc pour you that drink, watching his eyes pierce yours for just a second and his veiny hands grip the bottle so tight before the liquor drips down.

You and diluc have…a history, and he's not scared to act shy about it like you thought he would.

In the heat of your buzz, you've shown him too much attitude for him not to fuck you quiet if you're being too loud for the guests upstairs.

You know he likes it, but he'll still stuff your mouth with his cock if he needed to keep you quiet.

"Y/n, I won't ask again, please lower your volume."

His demanding gets you stirred, "or what?...you'll kick me out?" You say, brows in a comical state while you lean forward, cup in hand and slightly spilling the alcohol down your wrist.

"Stand up."

His demeanor had changed, half of you didn't believe he was serious but the other half didn't want to cause a real issue with him. You slowly stand up now off the bar stool.

"Come here." He beckoned.

You begin to move your body towards the small door that separates the back of the bar area with the rest of the pub, but he stops you.

“No, that is for employees only. Climb."

With confusion but not too much question you do as you're told, chuckling at his ridiculous request. You raise up your knee to the bar, and sit onto the table before climbing all the way to the other side facing Diluc directly, his gaze does not leave you, and his arms remain crossed.

He looks at your lips and begins to speak.

"You listened now, so why not the other times? If you're going to be a brat here of all places- then you'll be treated like one.”

You don't believe him, Diluc? in public? He'd never have the guts.

"Yeah right, I dare you." You challenge.

Diluc looks at you for a second, but not a second longer, now that he's grabbed your waist and turned you around. Your hands behind your back; gripped together by his right hand and his left glued to your hip, pushing your ass against this hard cock. You can feel your own tits pressed up against the cold wood of the table as Diluc starts to lower his hand down your thigh and lifts up your slip dress, revealing your ass.

Anyone could walk down at any moment and see the two of you, but you didn't care and evidently so didn't he.

You smirk and joke with him, how surprising he's being considering how vanilla he's been up til this point. He gives your ass a spank and you gasp, feeling the weight of his big hands on you; hearing him chuckle.

"So y/n, are you finally going to listen to me?"

"Hmm..! don't think l've learned my lesson yet…Master Diluc~"

Diluc bends down towards your arching back, his face close to your ear.

"If you want me to fuck you then you have to ask for it"

You freeze, is this actually Diluc? Hearing his harsh demands made you so...wet, you wonder if he can feel you throbbing because of his voice.

When you don’t reply immediately, he pulls your panties up and creates a tight fit, making them disappear into your lips and grind against your clit, making you jump and grind against him.

"Please Diluc", you pleaded.

After he's gotten the say so, your panties are practically ripped off and your raised up, now standing up against him with your hands released. Diluc sits you up on the bar and the rest of your clothes get torn off.

A sloppy make out begins as he trials his tongue down your body, sucking your hard nipples and leaving marks anywhere he wanted.

He spreads your legs as wide as they can go, ankles propped up on the bar and you can feel his fingers slip right into your folds, pumping his digits vigorously when his lips finally meet your cunt. You can't help but raise your hand to your mouth, the feeling of him sucking on your throbbing clit while his fingers fuck you so deep just might make you pass out.

You grip onto his red hair and push his face deeper into your heat, his groaning just makes everything even hotter.

You can feel your body heating up, and you know you're close; so does Diluc.

Of course, as soon as you're about to finish, his hands are completely off and out of you.

"What the hell? Why did you do that?"

"You asked to be taught a lesson didnt you?, This is me teaching you."

You're stunned, still sitting bare on this mans counter, you can't stop now.

You're practically begging diluc at this point.

"If I do, will you behave?" Diluc asks.

Agreeing happily, you pull him back to you with your legs. You pull him closer to you and begin removing his belt, ridding him of his clothes and watching his thick, long, absolutely gorgeous cock spring out of his pants. Diluc picks you up, setting you down as you feel your feet down on the floor again.

Being as eager as you are, you start pumping him up and down, swiping your thumb across the head of his member and licking his precum off your finger.

Diluc was just trying to teach you to be quiet, but he was just as messy for you as you were for him.

He can't help but turn you around again and bend you over. He can't help but admire the way your ass fits perfectly against his cock. He can't help but kiss along your back while rubbing his tip against your sweet pussy, his sweet pussy.

After his kissing, he's inserting himself inside your hole, your hand instantly finds its way to your face, but it's slapped away by Diluc, as he inserts two of his fingers into your mouth, that you gladly suck and drool on.

Truly, it's the only thing keeping you quiet and not letting everyone hear how good Diluc is thrusting his perfect cock into you. You squirm and push your ass even deeper into his cock, wanting him to fill you up so deeply with his warm cum. Your entire body is shaking as your knees begin to give out as he's fucking you so well.

"You love being treated like this don't you? Love when I fuck you like this? I bet you want everyone to hear you, seeing you beg for my cum inside your needy pussy."

You can't even babble coherent words back to him, you just tighten around his cock even more at his vulgarity.

He's even closer watching you squirm.

You feel your orgasm coming back, and you can tell Diluc is struggling to keep himself oriented.

Eventually, Diluc is spilling everything inside of you while you thank him for it.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[harmonictechnicality]

*my humble offering to @steddie-week (and the s4 anniversary!) | ao3 link here*

Like most bad ideas, it starts with a question. Eddie is sitting on the ground, messing with the laces on his sneakers. Tying, untying. Mindless shit.

Steve is taking up the whole damn park bench, practically laying on it. Hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes. 

And Eddie sort of hates the silence. Would like Silence to get decapitated with a chainsaw or something equally gruesome. Needs that particular volume to die the loudest death possible. For the sake of irony, of course.

So Eddie kills it - the silence, that is. The lull taking up all this air between him and Steve Harrington.

He kills it with a question:

“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

Steve’s head snaps in Eddie’s direction. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, man.” Steve sort of twitches, right between his eyebrows. Shoulders going lopsided, unnaturally angled. Uncomfortable.

Eddie shouldn’t be feeding off this tension so much. Judging by Steve’s body language though, the answer must be a good one. 

He leans forward, almost singing the words. “You sure about that?”

Pushing is fun, darkly playful. Eddie enjoys getting under people’s skin, crawling around till they shrivel up. Is it wrong? Morally unethical? Well… the verdict is still out on that.

Besides, he’s been around Harrington enough lately to know that it doesn’t take much to make him surrender. 

“Fine.” Steve huffs. He lifts himself to a sitting position, knees bobbing up and down. It takes all of Eddie’s leftover energy to not gloat about how easy that was - how quickly Steve caved. Teasing can (will) come later - right now, he wants answers. 

Secrets.

“So, Robin and I went to this party in the city… got pretty shitfaced.”

Eddie throws his head back. “Lame.” 

“Story’s not over.”

Oh? Interesting. Eddie places his hand over his heart, then waves it back at Steve. “My sincere apologies. Continue.”

Steve rolls his eyes, clears his throat (not that he needed to but whatever). “Anyways, she somehow convinced me to go to this tattoo parlor with her. Said her friend worked there and she wanted to visit them, so-”

“Wait wait wait. Don’t tell me this story ends with you getting a butterfly tattoo on your lower back.”

“Will you stop interrupting?”

There’s this serious expression in Steve’s eyes. A combination of dark colors and pure annoyance. Eddie is sane enough to know that annoyance isn’t something he should find endearing, but he does. On Steve.

Just a little.

He shrugs, and Steve continues. “Well, it turns out her friend wasn’t working that night. But the piercing lady was working and was like… superpersuasive.”

“Look, Munson, I don’t remember many details after that. Like I said, totally shitfaced. I just know when Robin and I woke up the next morning, we were so fucking sore. And not like, hangover sore either. We were sore in the same exact place. Right here.”

Steve’s pointer finger is gesturing at his stomach. Right in the center.

No. Absolutely not. Either Steve had severe stomach pains that night, or he’s suggesting that…

No.

“Yeah. There you have it.”  Steve says. Blankly nodding into space. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done is get a matching belly button piercing with my best friend. Jesus christ, that’s freaky to say out loud.”

The Silence sneaks up on him. Stabs Eddie in the back when he isn’t looking because he’s too busy trying to imagine Steve Harrington with a piercing of any kind. Let alone the most famously slutty kind.

Wrong, so very wrong. He should never let the words slutty and piercing clutter up his imagination while thinking about Steve. The silence has been too long now. Gotta say something, anything.

“Bullshit.” His tone is harsh. Doesn’t mean for it to be. “There’s no fucking way.”

Steve pouts, crinkles his forehead. “I swear on my car - I’m not making this up.”

And see, here’s where the bad idea comes in. This stormcloud of pouting and piercings and chest hair, it’s all becoming dangerous. That urge to provoke is in Eddie’s bloodstream. He has to tip the scale, twist the knife of chaos as far as he can. Self control is out the fucking window.

“Prove it then.”

“Fuck off, Munson.” Steve laughs, maybe scoffs. Either reaction is a little confusing. “Seriously, this isn’t truth or dare.”

The truth is already out though. It’s the dare that Eddie is hungry for. “You can’t just drop a nuclear statement like that and expect me not to ask to see it.”

“Technically, you didn’t ask.”

Eddie clamors over to Steve, all theatrics and fake agony. “Please, Lord Harrington.” He clasps both hands together, rests his cheek on Steve’s knee. Batting his eyelashes till Steve cracks a smile. “Let me see the metal that has punctured thy skin. I beg of thee.”

Steve shoves him off. “You’re such a dork.” It’s lighthearted, barely qualifies as shoving. He’s become way too decent for actual aggression these days. 

A fact Eddie tirelessly clings to when Steve stands up. Lifts the bottom of his shirt and puts it in his fucking mouth.

“Holy shit.” Eddie mutters. No time to consider how pathetic it comes across.

In theory, this should all be stupidly unattractive. The way Steve holds his shirt between his teeth. The way he mumbles incoherent shit between the fabric in his mouth. The way he keeps pointing at it, poking it.

That shiny, teardrop-shaped metal. Just… hanging from Steve’s belly button, swinging slightly with every small movement. Eddie’s eyes start to swing with it, back and forth. Back and forth. Maybe those roadside hypnotists are onto something, because the dumbest piece of jewelry has Eddie captivated.

He could just be captivated by the guy attached to the dumbest piece of jewelry. Piercing.

Jesus Christ. Eddie really didn’t think his life could get any weirder. But here he is. Staring at Steve Harrington’s belly button piercing. Fucking mouth-breathing at the sight of it. Probably seconds away from salivating. 

He really should consider seeing a licensed psychologist. Fix his terminally horned-up brain once and for all.

“It’s…” Eddie swallows, his eyelids feel heavier than his stare. “Not what I expected.”

The fabric drops from Steve’s mouth. Unevenly falls around his waist... hips. “What were you expecting?”

To laugh. To mock. Threaten blackmail for six lifetimes, maybe more.

Instead, Eddie gazing at it the way people gaze through telescopes. He peers lower, tries to see if it’s silver or gold. Hard to tell at sunset. None of Eddie’s typical instincts are sinking in. All he wants is to feel the metal rolling over his tongue or get it trapped between his teeth. See how it tastes mixed up with Steve’s skin.

“Fuck.” Yikes. Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud. Straightens up from his questionable position, does it so fast that his spine sounds like bubble wrap. “Sorry, sorry.”

What the hell is he apologizing for? Cussing? Having a skeletal structure? Christ almighty, he’s a mess.

Steve’s lips spread into a grin, doesn’t look like his own. Looks more like the kind Eddie might give after pulling off a successful decoy in one of his campaigns. “What’s wrong with your face, man?”

“My face?”

“It’s all…” Steve trails off. Sighs and sits back down on the bench. “Nevermind.”

Eddie reaches up to his cheek, understands exactly what Steve is referring to. He feels feverish to the touch, must be a shade of red that is so deep, it’s noticeable in the darkening sky. 

“Sorry… sorry.” Steve hangs his head. Seems troubled even though Eddie is nailing that particular routine all on his own.

“Think that’s my line.” Eddie jokes. 

“Right.”

Silence is lurking around them yet again. Eddie hates it, but he’s running out of steam here. The embarrassment is on display, his cheeks and neck covered in splotchy red patches. His voice is higher, somehow, as if his vocal chords are shrinking. He’s undergoing a crisis and crush simultaneously and it is not an attractive look for him.

“Just go ahead and get it over with.” Steve says. Interrupts whatever cynicism that’s currently brewing in Eddie's head. 

“Get what over with?”

“The teasing.”

“Oh that’s not… it’s um… you don’t…” Eddie can’t pick an appropriate response. They’re way beyond politeness and niceties. And any bullshit he tries to pull isn't gonna be convincing. So it’s best to stay honest. Embarrassing, but honest. “I think it looks pretty good.”

“You do?” Steve looks softer. 

“Yeah. I mean… Bowie probably has one, and he’s a fucking superstar so. Uh. Yeah.”

“Bowie, huh?”

“I like Bowie.” I like Bowie? What a beefhead answer. Eddie joins Steve on the bench, hopes it distracts from that very un-cool line. 

“I like Bowie too.” Steve messes with his hair a bit. Elbows Eddie in the side and chuckles. “You should get one.”

“A piercing?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t hold your breath, man. I’m not letting that nightmare creator you described anywhere near my lower abdomen. Not gonna happen.”

Steve reaches out, runs his knuckles down the bridge of Eddie’s nose. Stops at the crease of his nostril. “What about one right here?” His voice is even, calm. Too calm for what he’s asking.

His hand is warm, slightly calloused. The only two thoughts Eddie can process without going fully catatonic. Steve’s hand is on his face and it’s warm.

Slightly calloused. 

“Uh. Dunno.” Eddie says. A hoarse whisper in reply. “Probably not.”

Steve scoots in closer, never taking his hand off Eddie’s face. Just moving it around. Exploring. He brushes along to Eddie’s ear this time. Holds the edge of it between his thumb and index finger, looking straight at it. 

“What about right here?” Steve’s eyes stay fixed on Eddie’s ear. Every touch seems natural, just questions that involve connection or something.

Internally, Eddie is dousing flames. Fanning them left and right. Running in circles, fucking clueless on how to properly calm down. Be civil. Be Dude Civil. His breathing is so rapid, he knows it. Can hear it between them, collecting space. Decides it would be best to mimic Steve. Fix his eyes only on him, borrow the stability as much as possible.

“Mmm… maybe.”  Eddie gets stuck on the ‘mmm’ sound. That’s how good it feels having someone touch him like this. Careful, yet heavy in curiosity. Rolling the tip of his earlobe between two fingers, just enough pressure to create heat. 

It warrants that sound.

Steve’s glance drifts before his fingers do. Eyes landing on Eddie’s lips, slight hesitancy before his hand follows. Eddie has to hold his breath now. Minimal oxygen is the only way he’ll survive this moment, which makes no fucking sense, but it does all the same.

“Here would look really good.” Steve slowly traces the curve of Eddie’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. The back and forth pattern is disarming. Makes Eddie’s lips part, mouth slightly open.

Just enough to speak. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

If Eddie passes out from lack of oxygen, he’ll regret it. He’ll regret not taking the risk, finishing what Steve has started. Because this surpasses friendly touching. 

This is charged in electric shockwaves.

Eddie dips in, kisses Steve before he can move his hand out of the way. Steve makes a sound, not even a surprised one. It’s sweeter, laced in relief. Eddie pushes in, wants more, whatever he can get. Has his fingers wrapped around Steve’s wrist, the same hand that’s dragging down his face, his neck. Stopping at his chest. 

Every rumor is true, that kissing Steve Harrington is like the gates of heaven opening up. That his tongue could work miracles on amateur lips with a few licks and curls. But no one ever told him about the noises he makes - and those are the best fucking part. Heaving breaths, pleased whines, each one captured with Eddie’s mouth before they get any louder.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe those are just for Eddie. Reserved for kissing him.

Goddamn, he’s delusional. Completely delirious from kissing a dude with a belly button piercing.

There’s a light getting brighter, almost approaching them. Eddie opens his eyes, quickly backs off while Steve does the same. Has to literally detachhimself from wherever his hand was busy wandering all over Steve’s body. 

Headlights pull into the nearby parking lot. Eddie squints to get a better look at the car. It’s Robin and Vickie, showing up fashionably late as always. Sure, he’s grateful that it’s just them, the queerest people in his circle of weirdos. And while they’re reasonable people with shit like this, even they’dbe shocked to know that Eddie and Steve just sucked face for a solid three minutes. Probably best to not mention the gory details, not tonight. Eddie hopes Steve is thinking the same thing.

Both of them stand up, rearrange themselves to look presentable. Less tousled and kiss-bitten. Steve spends a few extra seconds with his hair before turning to Eddie, eyebrows high. Likely a non-verbal ask if his hair is looking as godly as ever.

Of course it does. Looks even better knowing Eddie’s nails were just digging into it.

Steve is a few steps ahead of Eddie, heading for the girls, when Eddie does it again. Kills the silence with a question. 

“Can we… do this again?” It’s edging on desperate, he’s so fucking aware of that. Self control really proving to be a major downfall with him tonight. Should definitely consider taking classes, train his willpower or some shit.

Steve stops walking. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even look at Eddie as he speaks. “My place.”

Oh. That’s… wow. Unexpected. Eddie jogs up to Steve, beside him. Way too eager now, sort of buzzing for more information. Hints of excitement or maybe a smile. Anything, really. He’s at that level of weak for this guy.

Steve just keeps walking, but leans in, right next to Eddie’s ear. The same one he messed with earlier. His voice is quiet, but Eddie hears every damn syllable:

“I’ll leave the window unlatched for you.”

For him. 

Maybe Eddie isn’t completely delusional after all.

[goldenfigtree]

Noise Complaint

Summary: AU where Leon Kennedy's first day isn't being attacked by zombies but handling a noise complaint which leads to a... miscommunication on your part

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Okay this is Part 1 of a concept that I thought was pretty humorous. part two here! The Porch Swing.

Feel free to let me know what you think :)

The police car door shut abruptly from the force of Office Kennedy’s arm. Hands dropping to his side, he feels the ground pulse a rhythm beneath him. His eyes scanned the area before they planted on the view of a house, neon lights projecting out of it. He let out a sigh of agitation. 

When he told the chief he was ready to go on patrol this wasn’t exactly what he meant. He figured he’d be doing what he signed up for in the first place. Helping people, not telling partygoers to keep their music down. It was definitely given to him because no one else wanted to do it. Give the rookie the dirty work while the other more experienced officers do the real work. That’s definitely what they did. But hey, he had to start somewhere. With a huff of encouragement to himself, he approaches the house, which is practically vibrating with party music and boisterous laughter, and knocks. 

To no avail.

Tightening his lips, he knocks again.

Still nothing.

He holds up his fist to knock on the door one last time until the door suddenly swings open, revealing you. A red cup in your hand and the other hand gripping for dear life on the door knob as you hold your weight against the door. 

“Heyyyy” you slur, a bubbly giggle trailing behind it. lowering his fist, he hesitantly greets you back, 

“Uh.. hi. I’m here because we received a noise complaint for this locat—“ 

“Oohhh” you interrupt, “that’s right, the noise complaint” in a fit of giggles you smile at him mischievously. For what reason, Leon had no idea. But seeing that you were obviously drunk, he just figured you were just saying things, to say things,

“Right” he gingerly responds, narrowing his eyes at your demeanor, “I’m going to have to ask you to turn down the volume a bit” 

“Uh huh” you say mindlessly before grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the chaotic environment,

“Leslie the stripper is here!” 

“The what?!” Leon exclaims. However you don’t hear him over the loud music and drag him through the crowds of people, “I’m not a stripper!” He yells over the music 

“Yeah I know you’re a stripper! You know you’re actually a half hour late!” You yell back, 

“No, I said I’m not a—“ 

“Leslie! There you are!” Once you find a familiar face wearing a bridal sash, you come to a sudden halt, Leon bumping into you in the process with an annoyed groan, “the stripper is here!” You teasingly say in a sing-song voice. 

While you were fully convinced that officer Kennedy was a stripper, her friend panically glanced between you and him, “um, that’s an actual cop” Leslie says sheepishly. You, still drunk and still brutally honest, turn your head to look at him. Your eyelids lower and lift as you shamelessly check him out, 

“Are you sure? He’s too hot to be a cop” the sentence alone makes the hairs on his arms stand up and all the blood in his body rush to his face. With all the patience he has, he takes a deep inhale and leans forward to speak to Leslie,

“There’s been multiple noise complaints about this party so I suggest you put this party to rest or I will” Leon says loud enough for both you and Leslie to hear. Before you could protest, Leslie swings an arm around you and covers your mouth with her hand. 

“We’ll close it down, sorry about the inconvenience” Leslie says apologetically while you try to wriggle free from her grasp. Begrudgingly, Leon moves his way through the crowd until he finally makes it to the door. Relieved to finally be out of the chaos he sits in his police car and leans his head against the headrest, 

“One hell of a first day” he murmurs to himself. 

—

The next morning was less chaotic than the booming music and the overwhelming smell of alcohol of the night prior. However, against his will, he was reminded of last night by his fellow police officers once he walked in, asking how the patrol went. Not wanting to be the laughing stock of the police station as a cherry on top, he failed to mention the part where you called him a stripper. 

Yeah, he still hasn’t gotten over it. 

After a bit of poking fun, he started his work day with paperwork. Although boring, he’d take filling out forms over being mistaken for stripper anyway. He hoped the mindless work would take his mind off of it. Yet, it only made him dwell even further. The thought of it made him aggressively swish and press his pen tip harder on the paper as he signed his signature in one designated box. 

“Hey Rosa” His head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. He couldn’t forget that voice even if he tried. Turning he sees you conversing with the receptionist at the front desk,

“Hey how’s it going?” The receptionist greets 

“The usual, just dropping off lunch for Will” you casually say, holding a paper bag in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. Standing up from his desk, he readies himself to confront you once and for all. One foot after the other, he gets closer and closer to the front desk. However, you’re so enthralled in your conversation with the receptionist that you only look up when he clears his throat. You look at him and politely smile, in which Leon doesn’t return, 

“Hi, I’m Officer Kennedy” 

“New recruit? I don’t think I’ve seen you before” Your polite smile soon drops when you notice Leon giving you an incredulous look. All of a sudden, all the things he was going to say to tell you off fell back into his throat. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the top of his mouth, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good” you ask softly, your eyes filled with concern. 

She doesn’t remember anything from last night? Of course she doesn’t remember she was drunk! What was I thinking?

His mind was spinning. Expecting a careless, bigmouthed partygoer, he is instead met with a nice girl with a pretty smile. How the hell was he going to get out of this without looking like a dumbfound idiot?

Clearing his throat he tries his best to calm his nerves, although it was a bit of a dumpster fire in his mind at the moment, “Do you… need something?” He musters to ask. Flashing a sweet smile again, you lift up the paper bag you were holding, 

“My brother works here, just dropping off his lunch. He always forgets it” 

“Ah.. well it was nice to meet you” Leon weakly greets with a shy grin backing away from the receptionist desk slowly to his own desk.

“You too, see you around” 

And with that, he resumes his paperwork, his mind spinning like a tire rolling from its axel. Not sure what to think anymore when it came to you. Was he supposed to act like nothing happened? He didn’t know if he could. Subconsciously shaking his head free from his dwelling he decides that it’s a problem for another day.

[fearhims3lf]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @loftylockjaw @fearhims3lf

SUMMARY: Mateo eagerly waits for both of his guests to arrive, and when he opens the door to expect Xóchitl there, he finds Wyatt instead. The two get to know each other much better.

WARNINGS: Small mention of grenades, but no actual detail

A-N-A-are-see-H-Y…!

Mateo bobbed his head along to the music in the background, sprinkling a few pinches of seasoning to the simmering pot. He lowered the heat and watched the bubbles settle before moving his attention to Angel, who was pestering him for some attention. “Oye mamacita, you’re gonna have to go to your room soon.” Angel groaned in response, and Mateo couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “It’ll be fine. Just a few hours. Besides,” He pointed to the window in the room, “You can literally just go out and have fun.” 

There was a knock at the door and she huffed, her tendrils lightly caressing Mateo before she trudged her way back to her room. He rolled his eyes, though there was no real irritation in his expression. In fact, there was only fondness for the monstrous creature slinking its way into hiding while Mateo bopped his way to answer the door. 

“Hey there, beauti…ful.” He quirked a brow at Wyatt and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not Xóchitl.” He snapped his fingers repeatedly and checked his watch, surprised to see that his girlfriend was running late. “Huh. Time flies, I guess. Well, come on in and have a seat.”

“Very astute of you,” Wyatt laughed, looking down his own front and giving a shrug. “Not since last I checked, anyway. Damn, did I really beat her here?” That was unusual, but then he supposed that her life had been a little unusual lately. To what degree he couldn’t be sure, and not just because she didn’t know how to explain it — his knowledge about things outside of shifters was terribly lacking. “Thanks for the compliment, though. I’ll cherish it always,” the lamia teased further as he followed Mateo back into the home. 

As promised, he was carrying an insulated bag with him, which he set on the counter after joining Mateo in the kitchen. “Ooh, that smells good,” he remarked with a nod toward the stove, unzipping the bag and reaching inside. Out of it, he pulled a baking sheet with wax paper tied down to it by string, and next came a large glass container. Setting the sheet on the counter, he glanced around the space until he located the oven. “Gonna need to borrow that for about fifteen minutes, these fellas are only half baked. This, however, is good to go.” Popping off the top, he revealed the elote salad, which still needed to be dressed with the cotija cheese, but that would come after plating. “Beignets,” he explained, gesturing at the baking sheet. “I’m no baker, really, but I made a practice batch earlier n’ they fucked, so.”

There was an easy grin that tugged on the mare’s cheeks, and he patted Wyatt on the shoulder. “Well, we got a shit ton of food tonight, which Xóchitl will love. I went a little crazy and made frijoles rancheros. A bit of more work to make, but it’s always worth it.” Mateo stirred the pot and removed his gorditas from the oven to make room for Wyatt’s container. After, he quickly turned the music down and eyed the tv, which was also a little too loud for conversation. He almost forgot he was waiting to see his latest job on the screen. 

“Uh, you mind turning down the volume for me? The remote’s right there.” His chin jutted toward it on the counter as he sorted the food on the island. “The oven is all yours now. It’s set at the lowest heat so it’ll just take a sec to get to whatever you put it at.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop and chuckled softly at the elote salad Wyatt had put together. “Man, there’s just something about white people and their ability to make a salad or casserole out of anything.” Mateo raised his hands to gesture there was no hostility toward the idea. “I ain’t complainin’, mind you,” He winked, “It definitely looks like it tastes good.”

Wyatt let out a laugh, somewhat floored by the very accurate observation. “I am but a simple country boy,” he drawled, hand splayed across his chest as the other reached for the remote as requested. “Anyway, she travels better like this! Gimme a break.” Snickering, he lowered the TV volume before setting the remote aside and permitting himself a better look at his company for the evening. Wyatt didn't think that Mateo had any idea he was the alligator he'd met in the woods, but there was only one way to change that. 

“Hey, I got a question for you, before the lady gets here… where's a guy gotta go to get grenades ‘round here? I still got the one you gifted me, ain't found the perfect thing to blow up with it yet, but you awoke somethin’ in me, I think.” He was giving Mateo a knowing smirk, brows raising expectantly as he awaited a response, moving to the oven to adjust the temperature.

Mateo’s brows rose, almost immediately cinching together as Wyatt asked about grenades. He could count on one hand how many people he’d given grenades to. In fact, there was only one person. Felix hadn’t wanted to take the gift, going so far as to not even touch the thing in fear that it would explode right in front of them. That left only the alligator man that had rightfully complimented Mateo’s ass. Unless somehow the mare had forgotten he’d given Wyatt one, and he wouldn’t put it past himself. 

The man had needed a lot of cheering up as of late, and men love explosions, but he would’ve remembered handing over such a powerful item. He decided to pry a little. “Uh…you sure I’m the one who gave that to you?” Mateo wet his lips and leaned on the island, scrubbing his face. “Do you even know how to handle that thing? Do you…” His eyes widened, “Do you have it on you right now?”

Wyatt scoffed, turning away from the oven to look at Mateo. “No, I don't have it on me now. It's safely tucked away at home. Come on… ‘course I'm sure you're the one that gave it to me. How could I forget such a spectacular ass that you made me compliment before you'd help me kill that fuckin’... whatever it was?” He folded his arms across his chest, looking terribly amused by the whole thing.

“Shockin’, I know. How can such a big, beautiful reptile fit into such a… comparatively small, less impressive human body? Easily, it turns out. Learned that trick when I was four or five.” He recalled Mateo having said something about how he wouldn't taste good, which could mean more than just ‘don't eat me please’, but Wyatt wouldn't press it. Yet. “Good thing I didn't eat you… woulda been awkward when I found out you were datin’ my best friend.” He smiled in spite of the grim statement. “Glad for it, even! That's new for me, congrats on breakin’ ground.”

A bewildered but impressed look skidded across Mateo’s features, and he had to stifle a chuckle of disbelief. Wyatt was the reptile that helped him kill the giant Godzilla thing a few weeks ago. They had blown that thing up into smithereens, and Mateo was miffed that he was none the wiser to what Wyatt truly was.

“You…you were that crocodile guy.” It sounded more like a question than a statement, but Mateo’s voice eventually settled into something much more grounded. Which was good because Mateo’s next question was an important one. “Does Xóchitl know?” He blinked several times, continuing to drum go fingers as his eyes grew distant in thought. “She doesn’t know what I am, to be clear. Been trying to find a way to bring it up, but it ain’t easy.”

Las Vegas celebutante found murdered in his home. Details to follow. 

The screen took the mare’s attention for a blink, but he kept the conversation on topic. “Haven’t been this way since I was a kid like you, so it’s been weird. Didn’t even want a relationship, and well,” Clicking his tongue, Mateo idly stirred the salsa he made. “Here we are. At least playing friendly with you is gonna be even easier.”

“Mm… technically yes, but let’s not go callin’ every gecko n’ salamander we see a lizard… follow?” Unlikely. How was anyone supposed to be able to follow his train of thought when he could barely do it himself? “Alligator. And no, she doesn’t.” Wyatt’s gaze jumped after Mateo’s to the TV screen, but he didn’t think much of it. “Ah… right. You mentioned you were undead.” There had been something else, too, but Wyatt was having a hard time remembering it. He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowed, trying to recall the brief conversation they’d had after blowing that bitey bastard to bits. “You said somethin’ ‘bout… bein’ nightmarish.” A comment he’d thought nothing of, before, but now…? Now his eyes opened again and he gave Mateo an inquisitive stare.

“Don’t suppose that was literal, was it?” There was a sort of agonized strain in the lamia’s voice that appeared once he realized he was potentially speaking to someone of the same species as his tormentor… and maybe someone that could help.

It was a bit uncomfortable, the way Wyatt’s eyes developed so much emotion in them. Xóchitl had briefly mentioned what was plaguing him, how he needed her in his times of distress. Every small detail was familiar to Mateo, having been through it himself. There was a huge difference, though. While Mateo had asked for it, taking the nightmares as a trial and less as a torment, he knew the implications there’d be when he confirmed what he was. 

That was just a leap he had to take, considering how ingrained Wyatt was to Xóchitl’s past. Mateo just hoped those nasty teeth—alligator teeth— wouldn’t need to immediately find something to chomp.

“Yeah.” He nodded, trying to look indifferent about his answer. More than ever, he wished it was just a bit closer to night so he could vanish into thin air if things went awry, but it appeared luck wasn’t on his side. Swallowing, Mateo figured he’d just have to settle for above average reflexes and the hidden weapons around the apartment. “Died after some…intense night terrors over several weeks, and here I am. Causing them to eat.” He clicked his tongue, “But I sure as hell have never tried anything on you, that’s for sure.”

Wyatt stared at Mateo quietly as he explained. His expression was hard to read, and he almost seemed to be making up his mind about something before saying the first words that came to him, which was unusual. The long pause following Mateo’s admission was both silent and deeply uncomfortable, stretching on and on until the oven beeped to signal that it was pre-heated. Wyatt relaxed his posture with a shrug.

“I figured. We’re good, by the way—I don’t got a problem with you. It’d be too hypocritical for even me to stomach if I gave you grief for that—I eat people. It’s whatever.” He frowned. “I just want to be left alone, is all. It’s fuckin’ me up. Been months of this shit. Can’t even fight right anymore.” He was losing control, yes, but not just of his decision-making abilities—he was starting to lose control of his shifting in general. Sometimes it took longer than he liked to make the shift happen in either direction. Sometimes it was only partial, even when he wanted it full. That was not sustainable, especially not in the Pit. It’d get him fucking killed in the ring. “Guy I know told me about usin’ salt… and somethin’ about a creature called a baku.” He shook his head. “I don’t… wanna do anythin’ that might… linger, you know?” Because I don’t want to accidentally fuck you up, was the part he left unspoken but likely still communicated to the other. “I just need real sleep.” He managed a somber smile, picking up the tray of beignets and sliding them into the oven. “Anyway. Help an idiot set a timer on this thing, would ya? Twelve minutes.” 

Mateo listened, and though he knew that it was likely another mare hurting Wyatt, he had to do something. There was an unspoken rule that you didn’t mess with anyone’s meals, but there was also an unspoken rule that you helped your girlfriend’s friends. Mateo was caught in the middle, and he really didn’t like it. 

“Okay.” He took a breath, taking out his phone and starting a timer to give himself a little more time to think, which was difficult when his latest kill was all over the tv screen. It was Mateo’s favorite pastime to watch as police had nothing on his victims, looking like idiots on the news, but that sadly had to wait. “Salt works, yeah. Put it around your bed. And-and really put it around. If you have it pressed against a wall, pull that shit away from it and make sure you close the circle.” He huffed, “For good measure, get the keyholes on your doors covered. Won’t allow them to get inside for sure.”

Setting his phone aside with the timer going, Mateo approached Wyatt and carefully put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. For all intents and purposes, he truly did feel for him. None of his victims asked to be fed on, but the major difference was that he didn’t know them. Mateo knew Wyatt, and he mattered to Xóchitl. That changed everything, which was why it was so easy to make an offer. “Hey,” Mateo’s voice was soft, his eyes matching. “Stay here tonight. Couch is comfy, but, uh…” He chuckled, “Bed is big enough too. I help Xóchitl get a good night’s rest with my nicer talents. Can do the same for you, and no creepies will get in your head when I’m around.”

That made sense, which made Wyatt feel a little stupid for not thinking of it. Of course the wall wouldn't be enough of a barrier for one side—granted he didn't know how mares worked, really��� still. He'd be pulling his bed away from the wall as soon as he got home. 

Which… sounded like it might not be tonight. The invitation was a little unexpected, in spite of the light flirting that had occurred online and Xó's assertions that Mateo would be open to that sort of thing. Unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. Wyatt felt a smile creeping over his lips once more as he glanced at Mateo, not overlooking that gentle tone and expression he wore. “Yeah?” he asked quietly. “I wanna hear more about these nicer talents, but… that sounds great.” And it would certainly be a development he knew Xó would be ecstatic over, eager as she was to convince the two men to get to know each other. 

Waving some spirit fingers toward Wyatt, the mare booped the man’s nose and chuckled with a hint of endearment. “Can’t visit your place with those precautions, but like I said,” Mateo stepped a little closer, a breath away from Wyatt when he added, “Plenty room here.” He smiled, letting his lips brush against Wyatt’s cheek before he moved his attention toward the tv. 

With the reveals and explanations mostly out of the way, Mateo could focus on the jabbering cops and be amused with how clean his getaway was. They were stumped, and they would stay that way. For all intents and purposes, Mateo Lara didn’t exist on any payroll, and any contact information under any false identities he had given were dead ends. Victory was his, and Mateo felt like he couldn’t lose at all that night. Which left him to wonder how much he could win. He grinned, and patted Wyatt’s bum just before he trotted his way to the sofa.

“Why don’t we talk about both our talents over some beer while we wait? Grab two from the fridge and meet me on the couch.”

That was fine… Wyatt didn’t really want anyone over at his cabin right now, anyway. It had seen better days, and he hadn’t had the time or energy to take care of all the shit he’d broken in his nightmare-fueled panics, not now that he was working triple shifts at the Pit. 

A shiver ran up his spine at Mateo’s sudden proximity. If there’d been any shadow of doubt over his interpretation of the mare’s words, he was beyond it now. There was no misinterpreting that, and it was an arena that Wyatt was so well practiced in, he could do it in his sleep. … hah. He immediately felt more comfortable, slipping back into an old, familiar role as he watched Mateo’s attention shift again to the TV. What was that about? Having the news on to listen to stories about a murdered famous person was peculiar, but come to think of it, Mateo still hadn’t answered Wyatt’s question about where to get grenades. Not that he cared about the answer, but still… He gave the other a curious glance, wondering if… nah. That was silly.

Okay, so they were getting familiar quickly. Good. Wyatt preferred quick. He smirked, doing as he was told and getting said beers from the fridge before wandering his way back into the living room. Passing one to Mateo, the fighter sat beside him, draping an arm over the back of the couch behind him. “Talking about them sorta pales in comparison, don’t you think?” He knew Xóchitl would be arriving any moment now, but of course that would do little to deter him, all things considered. Anyway, he wasn’t sure how easily he could get through the shared meal if he was still wondering, and so before either of them could even crack open the drinks, Wyatt buttoned his question with proof of his point and let that free hand find a home on Mateo’s neck, pulling him closer as the shifter stole a hungry kiss. 

“Well if I show you all my tricks, one’d leave you asleep on the couch, and I’m pretty sure you wanna be awake right now.” Mateo laughed a little easier then, taking the beer and tilting it up in a silent thank you. “I’m sure your transformation to that form of yours is pretty dope, though. Is that at will?” He glanced briefly at Wyatt’s hand and arched a brow. “How sharp are those claws?” And how often did he use them? 

The man next to Mateo ate people, and had done so his entire life. Probably. At that point, it was speculation, but given that Wyatt has been whatever he is since he was born, the mare could only put two and two together. Mateo was just grateful that Xóchitl wasn’t on the menu, and likely never would be. She was well taken care of, and that’s all Mateo really wanted. She’d had enough grief as of late, looking like her sanity was on a tightrope most days, and it was thanks to Wyatt that she’d been able to cope. 

So when he pulled the mare in for what felt like a ravenous kiss, Mateo complied easily, with his own type of hunger. A need that had been ingrained in him for as long as he could remember. Because for as evil as Mateo could be, he knew he had to be the one to take on that burden. Being wild and dangerous was fun, sure, but it took a lot out of him most days. It wasn’t easy to watch a man’s life spill from his skull and drip from Mateo’s weapon. That was the price, though. And he’d pay it, gladly, through gritted teeth, every time. 

Especially when he could feel the sighs of relief against his lips. When a body’s tension detached away and sank into him instead. That’s what Mateo sought after for those he cared about, and he could see himself extending that to Wyatt, feeling it as he pulled him onto his lap.

“Yeah, at will.” At least it was supposed to be. It had always been, until after he’d murdered Samir in the ring. “And sharp enough to rip open just about anythin’,” Wyatt explained, more than a hint of pride in his voice. He’d shredded through all sorts of materials with his teeth and claws besides the obvious flesh, muscle, and bone. The design of his lineage was similar to that of the alligators that populated the bayous, but better. Stronger, hardier, more agile… crocodilian in every way that mattered, plus more.

Wyatt was aware of the situation he was getting himself into here, and honestly? It seemed pretty fucking sublime. The cherry on top would be the both of them being able to be honest with Xó about what they were, but that would come with time, he figured. For now he’d rather focus on the rewards to be reaped from fraternizing with both halves of a couple, the promise of attention he’d receive from such an arrangement almost more enticing than whatever magical influence Kieran was able to exert over him. It was neck and neck, really. 

Speaking of necks, his hands braced on either side of Mateo’s, beer abandoned on the coffee table. Those claws they’d been discussing started to make an appearance, thankfully at Wyatt’s behest this time, the tips of his fingers transforming effortlessly into something scaly and green-hued. One hand fell to Mateo’s shoulder, nails digging in gently, only a whisper of a threat that would never be made good, but was instead here for play. He pulled back for a breath, huffing against Mateo’s lips with a grin as he felt the other’s hands grip him tight. “How late you think she’s gonna be, cher?”

The delicacy of the situation wasn’t lost on the mare. He was venturing towards not one, but two relationships, for as long as Mateo could remember, he said he never even wanted that idea near him in the first place. Xóchitl had shown him how wonderful it could be, that the monotony and comfort of a single person could be fulfilling in countless ways, and it had been. Mateo loved it, even. He felt into pace with it easily and found himself happier than he had been in a while. 

But there were countless ways to be happy, weren’t there? No two were ever the same, and more than that, there was more than one way to have a relationship. Or rather, two. Or was it just one if they were all involved with each other? Or…was it? Mateo shook the thoughts away and shifted his focus elsewhere. Like the claws grazing his skin, but never quite digging in. He found that he liked that, and enjoyed more that Wyatt was being mindful of his flesh and of the time, but he was forgetting one thing.

“Late enough, I think.” Mateo chirped with a grin, “But uh…what about those beignets?”

“Fuck. See, this is why I don’t bake,” Wyatt laughed, returning himself to a fully human state as he poked his head up over the back of the couch. Right on cue, the timer on Mateo’s phone went off, and the shifter groaned while grinning. “Alright, okay… just... hold that thought. Hold it.” He pushed himself up and off of Mateo, grabbing the can he’d previously left on the table as he stood to go tend to the dessert and popping it open. He took a few steps toward the kitchen, paused and pointed a finger at Mateo, and raised his eyebrows. “Are you holding it? …. just makin’ sure.” God, it’d been a while since he’d felt comfortable enough to be his more relaxed, playful self. This was good. He didn’t know if it was the promise of a truly safe night of sleep or what, but he felt lighter than he had in months. It was something he hoped he could hold on to for a while. 

The doorbell rang just as he was snatching up an oven mitt and pulling out the tray of pastries. Wyatt grinned in the direction of the front door, calling out a long-winded cajun-french greeting  that Xochitl had heard countless times before, retrieving the honey and powdered sugar from his bag. “You’re just in time, babe!”

[jalapenobee]

Yeah so this is what I said would make up for the other stuff, enjoy

Warning: a kiss that could’ve been good but was reduced to a small paragraph because I’m bad at that

So we’re at a party

“Honestly Shiro, you really are six. You seriously don’t know how to tie a tie? I’m Altean, and even I know how to do it.”

Shiro frowned and turned his head to the side while Allura straightened his tie a final time. “I never had the need to wear one…”

Allura nodded. “That makes sense. But you should at least know how to.” She finished by brushing off Shiro’s shoulders and adjusting her own light purple dress. “You look great.”

Shiro beamed. “You do too. Now, would you accompany me to the ballroom, Princess Allura?” He held out his hand and bowed cheesily.

Allura giggled. “Of course, paladin Shiro.” She took his hand and together they left the dressing areas, heading towards the big ballroom.

Earlier that week, the paladins had been invited to a ball in their honor by a planet they had saved before. Which is why everyone was getting dressed up, and why Keith and Pidge were complaining about all the fancy clothes.

“Do I have to wear a dress? I could be wearing pants, you know. They’re so much more practical.”

“And do I have to wear this suit? It’s so uncomfortable.”

“Yes Keith, you have to wear the suit. And Pidge, you’re so small that none of the good pairs of pants would fit you. We’re going to a damn ball, so lighten the up.”

Lance, unfortunately, was being tasked with dealing with the two because Hunk and Coran were running last-minute diagnostics on the lighting and music. Pidge would’ve liked to do this, but she was stuck putting on a dress instead. On top of that, Lance also has to get himself ready, which is why his tie was slightly lopsided.

But he couldn’t help but notice that Keith was looking absolutely stunning tonight in his dark red suit and combed hair.

“Can one of you help me zip this up?”

Keith begrudgingly went over to zip the zipper on Pidge’s dress, then the three of them left for the ballroom.

“Alright, I think the lights are working! They aren’t flickering anymore, at least.” Coran shut the panel door with a loud clang and stepped back. “How are you doing, Hunk?”

Hunk looked up from the computer. “Almost done, just need to adjust the volume.”

He scrolled through a few settings and swiped a bar lower. Then he turned back to Coran and gave a thumbs-up. “All good.”

They started to descend the stairs from the control room down to the main ballroom.

“Hey, do you think Shay will want to dance with me?”

Yes, other aliens were invited too. Just for the story.

Coran turned to smile at the boy. “Of course she will, Hunk. You’re a great person, I’m sure she’ll like you.”

Hunk furrowed his eyebrows in thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, thanks Coran. I just needed to hear someone say it.”

Coran patted his shoulder. “No problem, Hunk. Now go ‘get your girl’, as you humans say it.”

And they went their own separate ways, exploring the ballroom just like the other paladins.

A few hours later, the paladins had regrouped to one general area with some of their friends and allies. A few of the Olkari, Shay and her balmeran friends, Nyma and Rolo, Romelle, and even Krolia and Kolivan had managed to show up.

Allura and Shiro were dancing (do I ship them? Yes) while the other paladins watched them and ate. Well, Hunk ate. Everyone else just had drinks.

“Hunk, you eat too much.”

“You eat too little! It’s no wonder you’re small!”

Pidge rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink, which totally wasn’t just apple instead of the overpriced space alcohol. She eyed Lance as he headed towards them, slightly tipsy.

“Hey Lance, have you tried the food?” Hunk stuffed another cracker in his mouth enthusiastically.

He nodded, and stood with them. “I’m bored. Hunk, sing a song. You gotta entertain me.”

Hunk choked and Pidge punched him in the arm, with just enough force to make him nearly spill his drink. “Why? Met every girl at the party yet?”

Lance nodded and grinned, a bit too big. “In fact I have.”

Pidge smiled a small smile. “Hey, look over there.” She aimed her drink at Shiro and Allura, who were dancing and laughing in the middle of the room.

Lance’s eyes followed Pidge’s and they boggled. “Is that Shiro and Allura?”

Hunk nodded. “Yup, they’ve been dancing for a while now.”

“Space dad has a space mom now.” Pidge said.

An idea popped into Lance’s head. “Hey, why don’t we dance with people?”

“That’s a good idea. I could hang with Romelle or something.”

“Yeah, and I can go find Shay!” One look at Pidge and Hunk knew exactly what to say.

“Lance, go dance with Keith. He looks lonely.”

Lance nearly choked on his drink and immediately became sober. Dancing? With his crush- er, I mean, uh, rival?

“Why Keith? I bet he can’t even dance! I’ll be humiliated!” Lance sputtered. Even so, he had locked his eyes on the dark haired boy.

Keith was standing against a wall with a drink in his hand, his hair combed to a point where it wasn't full of knots. He watched as people passed by him, ignoring the kind-of-short male who stood alone. Even Krolia was talking to people.

“Well, too bad. You’ll be humiliated together. Pidge, you can go find Romelle. I’ll take Lance.”

Pidge nodded and walked away in search of a certain Altean. Despite Lance’s pouting, Hunk pushed him towards Keith.

“Hey Keith, Lance wants to dance with you!”

Keith looked up, looking confused with one brow up. “Um, what?”

And Hunk ran away. Keith looked to Lance expectantly.

“Sorry. I suggested we dance with people, and then Hunk said I should dance with you, so yeah.”

Keith nodded. “That makes a lot more sense.”

The two watched in silence over the party for a while, until Lance spoke.

“I mean, we could if you want to.”

“What?”

“Dance.”

“Oh. Sure.”

The two boys discarded their cups and walked towards the dance floor to join their friends. And because this is Klance we’re dealing with, they started to argue.

“Okay, I’ll lead.”

“What? No, I’m leading!”

“I’m taller! I should lead!”

“Nuh uh! I’ll lead this time, and you lead the next. Deal?”

“Fine.”

~I was about to write this and then I remembered I didn’t know how dancing works so I looked it up so I apologize for this crap~

So Keith put one hand on Lance’s back and the other in his hand, trying to ignore the electric tingle wherever their skin touched. He led the two of them in a tango around the dance floor, face kept down so Lance wouldn’t see him blushing.

The Lance, in question, was also trying not to blush. Because who was he to? He was the one to create the rivalry, although Keith was the one to act cold and emo.

“You’re not such a bad dancer, Mullet.”

He wasn’t lying. Somehow, Keith was a professional. How did that happen?

To prove Lance’s point, and because he was feeling brave, Keith dipped him and brought his face close to his, the tips of his hair just brushing the tips of Lance’s forehead. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still a better leader,” Lance said, flustered.

“Then who’s leading Voltron, hm?”

“Still.”

“I could drop you right now.”

“Please don’t.”

And as if something possessed him, Keith found himself closing his eyes and leaning down to connect his lips with Lance’s. The kiss was slow and sweet, the liquor taste still in their mouths and their tongues fighting for dominance until Lance pulled away for air.

“You’re not just good at dancing, Mullet.”

“You too, sharpshooter.”

Keith spun Lance back up for another kiss, and they laughed and danced for the rest of the night.

1,316 words

[bingoplinko]

I think my secondary school wasn’t that bad and then I remember that once I was having a meltdown due to the sounds in the room (a support room btw) and when the other kids in there noticed they were like “okay guys let’s be careful of the sound” and then one guy (who I’d gone to primary with and who was my best friend when we were kids, even if we drifted later) pulled his phone out and said “yeah guys let’s-“ pause to lower the volume on his phone in front of everyone “-turn it down.”

they laughed. each and every person there was fully aware of my issues and that I was actively sobbing and upset at that moment. I didn’t laugh. It’s been years, and yet that moment stuck with me for ages and will likely stick with me for a while.

The teacher in there ignored me. Most the teachers in there ignored me when I was having a meltdown or panic attack actually. because they “didn’t always know if I wanted to talk about it” which sure could be a valid excuse. except they knew me. they knew it always helped me to have someone there with me to help distract and ground me and help me calm down.

I was always used as the joke excuse you made when things were getting chaotic. “Stop, you’re going to make him cry! You’re making him upset” said while laughing. In a support room. When I would flinch at things being thrown. I had to start moving to the library instead because while it wasn’t always as quiet as I’d like or open at least it wasn’t the support room . I used to have to go to the chapel and sit against the wall because it was the only place quiet enough because the room created to support people like me was too loud and people couldn’t bare to take me seriously.

and then I wonder why I bottle so much up. when I learnt that nobody really cared about me or my wellbeing, or that welfare staff wouldn’t listen to be on things I told them I didn’t want them to do. It scarred me and most of what that school taught me wasn’t the material in class. instead, I learnt that if I made it through a day without crying it was practically a miracle, and that people didn’t want me around or didn’t even want to notice me.

I just think about it a lot

[keefwho]

April 23 - 2024 Tuesday

11:08pm

6.5/10

This morning I gave Sporticus a bath. There was a big spider in the shower the whole time I couldn't seem to wash down the drain but it didn't bother me too much. She shed a TON of hair this time around. I also found out later that she peed in the corner of my room, likely after her bath while I was taking a shower. For breakfast I made a jimmy dean sandwich with rice and a pear cup. I intended on doing my workout today and this was a good breakfast for it calorie-wise. I watch an episode of Moral Orel about Doughy being neglected.

For work I warmed up with sketches of wolves. They didn't turn out as good as others and I found out that their front legs aren't easily simplified. Also that they are very similar to horses at certain joints. Then I spent another hour on the Venus commission coloring the characters. And then I finished preparing my next NSFW YCH.

After work I did my dishes and started my workout. I watched a video of Dan Schneider while I did a few sets of lunges and a couple miles on the treadmill. I found out my knee still hurts, I MAY have to schedule a doctor's appointment for it. Although I haven't given it an opportunity for some good rest so I should probably try to take it mega easy for a couple weeks before asking a doctor. For lunch I made chicken stew. I was aiming to make it rich and spicy but ended up making it too salty somehow, I think too much lemon pepper. It was edible but not that great for the effort. While cooling/eating, TK was messaging me about issues with her boyfriend and how he has a pattern of problematic jealousy. I took her side completely with what she had to say, it sounded to me like he not only had unrealistic expectations but also that he was not communicating the problem very well. It got me thinking a lot in general about jealousy and how the dynamic can change between two people that work well together when they elevate from friends to a relationship. I think nothing SHOULD change if both parties know how to talk and don't develop unrealistic needs.

I did my afternoon work late on account of how long the stew took. I did a request for FY that I think turned out okay and then I got into VRchat to paint from "life". I went to that old world DS and I found with all the hobkin avatars and picked a place to stand that I'm going to copy from. I think it's a great idea because it's basically just a color study and results in a sort of unique result, that being what looks like an uninteresting in-game screenshot but it's actually been hand painted. After that I worked on my avatar for about 15 minutes which was enough time to prepare and bake the AO for the textures. This whole time I was using my good headphones to listen to loud rain with some music and a stream at a lower volume.

When I was done I hopped on the Roblox horse game to catch some horses and check out the training island. DS was free so we called and watched a furry species ranking video while I horse trained and she practiced airbrushing. We also finally watched the fabled balut sausage video which was horrifying, I actually thought I might throw up and had to look away. Then it was more of the usual furry con content and we went on a sidetrack trying to see if any of the footage had her in it. We found about 10 pixels of her at the waterfront in 2022, still an exciting find.

In bed we did our puzzles. The crossword was really hard for some reason and took us a whole 12 minutes. The last 2 only took a little over 1 minute each. Then it was 2 Monster High chapters and I played through the Beast's Castle level in KH2 until I got to the boss. We did a little smash or pass session with the enemies and a few actually got me thinkin a little.

~~~

Today was strange in that for most of it, I really had the desire to be alone but not to be myself. Usually when I wanna do something alone, I'm still trying to express myself. But I didn't want that today, I wanted the influence of others. The happy medium was a little bit of texting. Also since today was about "self", I combined that with my Costar prompt which was "cry over someone else's problems". So during the afternoon I was thinking a lot about TK and DS, putting myself in their shoes thinking about the woes they both expressed today. It felt good, like a helpful empathy exercise.

[mcdonaldnuggies]

SP Fantasies- Forgotten Memories (Part 2)

A/N: Sorry, I forgot to out the title of the first part and which part it was! 😅

Part 1 Part 3

My head ached as I heard a loud muffled ringing against my ear, groaning at the annoying sound. I slide my hand underneath my pillow, grumbling about the bright screen of the phone in my hand. Lowering the brightness, I look at the contact name.

Mother

FaceTime Audio

I groan into my pillow, answering the phone call and pulling the phone up to my ear. “Hello?” I slur, my eyes slowly giving into the sleepiness that I barely give effort to fight off.

“Was there an ambulance at the house?” My mother asks me, a cold stern tone in her voice; much similar to my fathers from before. I mute the call and let out a scoff, pissed off that this is what I have to wake up to.

Unmuting the call, I open my mouth to reply to her. “Yeah.” I bluntly say.

“What happened?” My mother investigates, that annoying sass in her voice doing my patience to justice.

I roll my eyes, as if she was right there by my bed with me. I pay no attention to the sound of her voice and ‘pretend’ to drift back to sleep. “Hello?” I hear my mother call multiple times, each time her voice gets louder and her temper obviously raising. Giving into my slumber, I turn down the volume of my phone. To the point where I can still hear her, but also to the point I can peacefully go to sleep as well. What? I’ve only slept for an hour, I need my sleep!

—————————————-—————————————-—————————————-————————————

I once again wake up, this pit in my stomach leaving me uneasy while I lay in my covers. After a while of staring at my wall; I sit up and begin my morning routine, rushing around the house to get me, my siblings, Oxford, and the house ready for the day.

Last night was horrifying, a day I will never forget. I mean, it’s not everyday that a drunk man breaks into your room when you’re asleep. Gosh, I should’ve left that man for dead instead of soaking up that blood and ruining my favorite shirt.  Seriously wasn’t worth it, man. 

My father had left early in the morning, he apparently found a job as bodyguard at some ‘restaurant’ spot open so he’s going to try it out. Because of this, i’m left in charge of the house. However, because of the incident last night, my dad screwed all the windows and doors in real good. Leavin’ a plank of wood against the window slider, making it almost impossible to break open.

While my brother, Theodore, was sweeping the living room and hallway, we suddenly heard a knock on the door. I turned to look at Harper and Theodore and put a finger on my lips, signaling for them to keep silent. I walk over to the door and peek through the hole in the door, seeing a little girl with brown hair fidgeting with her fingers nervously with a boy in what seems like a orange jacket. Or.. maybe a parka? I don’t know, i’ve never been good with recognizing clothing types.

My resting face softens, my lips curving up at the sight of the adorable little girl. I take a moment of consideration on whether or not I would be allowed to open the door when we’re home alone, even if it’s just for kids our age. Suddenly, the boy—at least what I think is a boy—locks eyes with me through the peep hole. Holy shit, what the fiddlesticks!? His eyes shine up a little, like how Karen’s eyes shone yesterday at the sight of Oxford. Except, his seemed a little off. Oh my god, what if he’s planning my death!? He’s probably Karen’s older brother and super overprotective, he’s probably here to slit my throat!

I nervously fiddle with the lock on the door, accidentally twisting it too far and unlocking the front door. Theodore lets out a dramatic, ‘I’m going to tell on you’ gasp behind me while Harper runs over to Oxford who’s tensed up on his kennel. Well, I guess it’s too late now. I practically have to open the door now. Turning the handle and peeking my head out the door, I give the pair a awkward, forced smile.

“Hi, [name]!” Karen peeps, gracing me with her toothy grin once again. I look down at her, giving her a—still forced—wider smile.

“Hi, Karen. Why’re you here?” I force out my throat, completely awkward. I feel the bullet stares coming from both the boy next to Karen and Theodore who stopped sweeping and snuck behind me. Oxford suddenly runs over to the door, sniffing Karen’s familiar scent from behind my leg. For some reason, Karen’s brother—at least from what i’m assuming—looks horrified at the sight of Oxford. I shoot him a confused look before bringing my attention back to Karen and Oxford.

“[name], who’s that?” Theodore shouts oh-so-embarrassingly.

I turned around, looking him dead in the eye; telling him to shut up or he’s going to get it when they leave. Much to my satisfaction, Theodore closed him mouth and only peeked out at the two. “I came to play with Oxford!” Karen said, her voice filled with so much joy. Putting thought into her words I realized I had invited her to play with Oxford today without realizing. I put some more thought into this playdate, it can’t be too bad if they’re the ones entering our house, right?

I take a step back, pushing the rat behind me to back up. Theodore growled and snarled at me—much like the weird fucking furry he was—and stomped back to continue his sweeping. I watched as Karen and the tangerine walked into the house, eyeing the boy suspiciously as he seemed to be eyeing Oxford. He seemed tense from the very moment Oxford ran up to Karen. Maybe some trauma response?

I sat, crouched on the living room carpet with Oxford between my arms and legs. My attempt to keep him in the house, avoiding any chances he runs outside to this new, strange change of environment.

The tangerine behind Karen closed the front door, I took that as a signal that Oxford could be set free. Oxford instantly ran up to Karen, jumping and licking her all over. His jumping became too much because soon Karen fell down, laid on the ground on her back giggling and laughing as Oxford’s smelly breath covered her face.

“Oxford!” I shout, grabbing a hold of him and gently tossing him into his kennel to calm down.

The orange hooded boy squat down to help Karen sit up, rubbing the dog saliva off her face with the sleeve of his jacket. Walking towards Karen to help her on her feet, I notice the boy is seemingly glaring at Oxford. Damn, he must either be extremely overprotective or he just has a built up hatred towards dogs.

“Sorry Karen,” I apologize, “I should’ve warned you.” I reach my hand out for her which she graciously accepts.

“It’s okay!” Karen beams, flashing me with her signature, sweet smile. I pull her back to her feet, sending her a small smile back. Glancing back at the boy, I accidentally lock eye contact with him. If I could, I probably would have dropped dead right then and there. Almost as fast as our eyes met one another, my eyes darted away from the tangerine.

One again, Karen must have noticed this. “Are you okay, [name]?” Karen asked me as she stood back up onto her two feet. “I’m fine, Karen. Don’t worry about me.” I reassured her.

“Um.. it’ll probably be better to wait for him to tire out.” I informed the two.

Looking back at the messy house still in cleaning, I showed them to my room. “Well, since you’re here, do you want anything?” I asked the pair, fiddling with the handle of my door. “Oh!” I gasped, remembering something for Karen. Stepping over to my bed, I kneeled down onto my knees and pulled out a plastic bin of toys from throughout my childhood. Karen let out a dramatIc gasp and ran over beside me. “You can keep all of these, Karen.” I told her, scooting the bin over to her.

“Really!? This is all for me?” She asked, her eyes sparkling in the sun joyfully.

“Mmhmm” I nodded.

Karen excitedly took out each toy, looking over the ones the loved the most. Smiling at her, I turned my head over to the tangerine to my side. “Uh, do you want anything? I can give you a snack, same for Karen.” I awkwardly stated, fidgeting with my fingers and the hem of my shirt. “Me and Karen’ll take some snacks.” The orange boy murmured into is parka. I nodded and asked him if he wanted to come with me. 

Walking with the boy beside me, I lead him into the kitchen and to the snack cabinet. “You can take whatever you want.” I told him, opening the cabinet and backing up to make room for him. Swiftly, he took quite literally all of the snacks we have available. ‘Would it be rude to tell him to put it back?’ I ask myself, the fidgeting progressively getting worse. I thought back to the houses we drove by. If he’s one of our neighbors—and looking back at the side of the fence Karen was at yesterday—they must be struggling a LOT. Surely 5 big boxes of snacks wouldn’t hurt.. right? The only downfall is putting up with Theodore and Harper’s whining.

Walking back to my room, I eyed Theodore telling him to mind his own business using my stare. Opening my room door, I was suddenly tackled into a hug. “Thank you, [name]!” Karen squealed, tightening her hug every second. “For what?” I asked her, awkwardly draping my arms over her some-what tall figure. “Your dolls are so cool, are you sure I can keep them?” Karen asked, a big grin plastered along her face while practically jumping up and down. “Yeah, why wouldn’t you?” I laughed, copying the same wide grin she has on her own face.

Karen looked back towards the boy, “Kenny, come! I want to show you all of the cool dolls [name] has!” She tugged on ‘Kenny’s’ orange sleeve and dragged him over to the pile of toys that she had stacked in a circle.

Hours later of chatting and getting to know Kenny, trying to subtly introduce my siblings, attempting to get Kenny to become softer with Oxford, and ignoring all my mom’s calls, I had to tell Kenny and Karen that they had to leave. “Bye, [name]!” The two siblings called out as they began to walk home, waving back towards us. “Bye!” My and my siblings returned, waving at them from the front door.

Turning back to my siblings, I rush them deeper into the house. "Hurry up and clean before father gets home." I demanded them, flicking Theodore's forehead. I scoffed at me, hitting me on my shoulder as I walked away cackling like a Disney villain. "Stupid fucking bitch..." My brother muttered underneath his breath as he continued sweeping the floor. Harper simply looked between the two of us and gasped, sitting on the couch while she stared at us.

"What did you just say?" I asked him, prepared to turn this into a war-zone if my anger requires so.

"You're a fucking bitch! Did you not hear me, ding dong?" My brother taunted, hitting me with the broom. Luckily for me, my dad so happened to walk into the doorway. Witnessing what my brother was doing to poor ol' innocent me.

HAH, FUCKING STUPID BITCH! GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!

My dad looked at my brother, furious. "Theodore, what the fuck did I say about hitting girls?" He asked, flicking my brother on the back of his head. Theodore looked up at him, quietly muttering words—that I'm pretty sure is cursing my name and wishing death upon me—as he glared into his eyes.

"Woah..." Harper said, muffling laughter into the couch's pillows.

[ohbuckie]

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT

college!bucky x reader

summary: bucky fucks you on his bedroom floor.

warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

masterlist

Bucky’s room is at the end of the hall. It’s decorated simply—white rug in the center of the floor, a desk sharing a wall with the door, a few posters littering the walls, a dresser across from the bed in the corner of the room. His bed frame is metal and cheap; flimsy, to say the least. He holds onto it while he fucks you—arm outstretched above your head, trying desperately to keep it from slamming against the wall and using the leverage it gives him to pound into you harder.

His friends’ rooms are both attached to his, with their common wall being the front one that the door is on. Sam and Steve have gotten used to banging on the walls of their bedroom in protest of the loud sex happening on the other side, or even sitting in the hallway and knocking on the door. Of course, this means nothing to Bucky, who could probably ignore a category seven earthquake in order to finish. He’s nothing if not thorough.

He tries to be considerate. He plays music loudly—something with lots of bass, to drown out at least a little bit of the sound—but it renders itself useless in between every song, when both of the guys can hear every sound the two of you make. Good sleep is a lost cause in apartment 4B.

Arriving home from a double date with your roommate, you let your jacket—Bucky’s, actually—fall from your shoulders, and you catch it in your hands to hang it up by the door. You kick off your shoes, run your fingers through your hair, find your boyfriend who scurried away to the kitchen, plant a kiss on his lips.

“That was fun.” You say, running your hands up his chest, remembering how he kissed you in the cab on the way here. He smiles and leans on the counter with the heels of his palms, with you in between his arms, in front of his chest.

His lips find yours, and you cup his cheeks in your hands, accepting the tongue that he runs along your lower lip. He tastes like the red wine that he had with his dinner and smells like the expensive cologne that you gifted him last Christmas.

“I don’t think the guys are home.” He says against your mouth, and you smile, breaking the kiss and practically running down the hallway.

He follows you to his bedroom, his hand making contact with your ass, leaving it stinging while you twist the knob and push the door open. He beats you to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs open, waiting for you to climb onto his lap. You straddle him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his lips attach to your neck, delivering wet, hot kisses to your throat and collarbones. He runs his hands over your body—along your shoulder blades, down your spine, across your lower back—appreciating the figure-hugging black minidress that you’re wearing.

You lean forward to push him onto his back, catching yourself on your hands, which are positioned on either side of his head. You grind against his lap and he flips you onto your back in response, rolling his hips into yours.

You kiss like pornstars, swapping saliva between your mouths through tongues and clashing teeth, sucking and biting at plush lips. With his hips between your thighs, your dress inches further up your legs, making your red thong visible.

Your hands are free, and you use this opportunity to pull his shirt out of his pants and unbutton it until it’s open. The two sides hang down, exposing the top of his prosthetic arm and the outrageously defined muscles of his torso.

“Bucky.” You breathe, lips wetly separating from his.

“You okay?”

You nod. “Just want you.”

He chuckles teasingly, nudging your chin upwards with his nose and kissing down to your chest. You arch your back into him, pushing your fingers into the hair at the base of his head.

The room is dark, except for the animated screensaver of the open laptop of his desk and the moonlight that pours through the blinds perfectly, casting rigid bars of light across the wall opposite the bed. You reach to the nightstand beside you, pulling the cord on the lamp and wincing when it turns on as you’re staring at the bulb.

He pulls away and gathers himself, licking his lips and pushing hair from his forehead while he catches his breath. He looks up at you and smiles sweetly, kissing your cheek before standing from the bed and unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his slacks, pulling the zipper down, shoving them past his thighs. His belt hits the floor with a jingle and he steps out of the pants that are now pooled around his ankles. Dark gray briefs are revealed, and you appreciate how nicely they cling to his legs and ass. You remember an earlier comment from him about “fancy underwear,” and you giggle to yourself when you realize that this is what he was talking about.

“What’s funny?”

“‘Fancy underwear.’” You repeat to him, and he cracks a smile before he steps over to you to get back to business.

Instead of removing your dress, he pushes it up past your hips, harshly pulling your panties down and out of his way. He kneels in front of you and kisses your inner thighs, moving up to your pussy, ghosting over it with his lips for a moment before pressing a delicate kiss to your clit, his eyes trained on yours. His gaze remains unwavering when he licks a stripe up your entire pussy. His tongue pushes between your folds and applies pressure to your sensitive bud, and you both moan—you at the sensation and him at the taste.

“Buck.” You whine. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He sighs, disappointed that he can’t eat you out. Not that he isn’t excited to fuck you.

He stands and steps out of his underwear, tossing them behind his right shoulder. His cock stands against his stomach, seemingly thrilled to be freed from its fabric prison. You can’t take your eyes off of it—pretty and pink, fairly long and definitely thick enough.

He spreads his large hand over your lower stomach and lets his thumb hover over your bundle of nerves, keeping it still, for now. He gives his cock a few pumps, holding it just below the head to line it up with your entrance. He looks at you while he pushes in, because he loves the way that your eyes squeeze shut and your hips wiggle to get more comfortable with his intrusion.

He chews on his bottom lip, waiting until you stop clenching and fluttering around him before he moves. When he does, you reach to the hand on your stomach and hold his wrist tightly. He uses his other hand to put your right leg over his left shoulder, the cold metal of his mechanical hand at variance with your hot skin. You take the initiative to put your other leg up on your own.

His movements are less of a rhythmic roll and more of a pistoning in and out of you, giving you what you begged him for only a moment ago. At first, the thrusts are shallow, but after about a minute he can’t help himself anymore. With every jerk of his hips, his cock slams against a spot inside of you that only he has ever reached—although you’d never tell him that, because you’re too proud to admit that he can make you feel better than you ever could yourself.

When you let go of his wrist, he withdraws his hand, licking his thumb before putting it back where it was and putting it to use. He draws small circles into your clit, just like you taught him to do when you first started dating. You buck your hips up and it makes him smile, and you want to smack that look off of his face. You hate that he knows exactly how good he makes you feel.

You tighten around him when you study his concentrated face—how his brows furrow and he licks his lips.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.” Your voice is strained by desire.

“Good.” He mumbles, and starts to put a little more behind every thrust. He pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in, and the slapping noises that your skin makes upon contact with him is obscene. The bed frame squeaks as it rocks, and it hits the wall over and over again, at a moderate-but-still-annoying volume.

Loud knocking on the closed door startles you, but doesn’t phase Bucky.

“What?” He asks, not stopping, or even so much as looking in the direction of the interruption at the door.

Sam’s raised voice is on the other side. “At least put on the music, man. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. Go away.” Bucky replies. Footsteps descend and a door closes. Bucky pauses his movements, clearly annoyed, to lean over and fish his phone out of the pocket of the pants that he let fall to the floor earlier. He thanks God for Bluetooth when it automatically connects to the speaker that lives on his desk, and all he has to do is press play. He tosses the phone onto the mattress, lets it bounce behind your head, and picks up where he left off.

The music is loud enough to drown out the squeaking and the slapping, but definitely not the bed hitting the wall. You can’t bring yourself to care, because the circles against your clit are growing bigger and faster, and your eyes are rolling back into your head.

“Fu-u-uck.” You moan, syllables choppy from the way that you’re being fucked.

“You’re so hot.” He mutters, letting a breathy moan slip out after his words.

Something hits the part of the wall that Steve’s room is behind, and you both can hear shouting. “Shut up!”

Neither of you respond.

A familiar feeling pools in your lower stomach, tightening and threatening to spill. “I’m so close, Buck.”

You tense around him, squeezing his cock and surely bringing him close, too. He pulls out suddenly, but quickly replaces his dick with two of his fingers, curling them against the upper wall of the inside of your pussy. It shoves you violently over the edge, and you cum with a moan that rips through your chest and leaves your throat burning. His fingers continue to move through your orgasm and he watches your legs tremble, kissing your calves that are still rested beside his head.

“You good?”

You only nod.

“We’re being too loud on the bed. Get on the floor.” He orders, and you breathe through your nose, exhaling through your mouth before you stand on wobbly legs. Before you lower yourself to the floor, covered by his pristinely clean, white rug, he clarifies, “Hands and knees.”

The bass of the music booms through your chest, reverberates through your bones, echoes through your head. You feel him kneel behind you, putting one foot onto the floor for balance. You wish you could see him right now—shirt open, sweaty chest heaving, cock standing at attention, ready to fuck you to completion for the second time. He tilts his head down and you can hear him spit onto his dick before shoving it back into you, exercising no restraint.

Your head bows between your shoulders, and you try not to be too loud, because Sam and Steve hardly ever let you hear the end of it when you do, but Bucky’s making it extremely difficult. He’s taking what he wants now, since he’s already made you cum.

His hands hold your hips like they’re handles, yanking your body backwards onto his cock at the same time that he’s ramming into you. His breathing is heavy, and you close your eyes to picture his face right now. A piece of hair over his forehead, fallen from the gelled mass atop his head, jaw tight, abs tensing. That’s what he usually looks like, anyway, when he’s fucking you into oblivion. It’s an image that’s forever burned behind your eyelids.

His hips are moving bruisingly fast, bringing you closer to another orgasm. It’s actually more like you’re being dragged behind a pick-up truck that’s approaching a cliff and is showing no signs of stopping.

It takes only a hard clench to throw off his rhythm and have him cumming inside of you, scrambling to blindly locate your clit with only his fingertips so that you can finish together. He rolls it between his fingers, rubs haphazardly, and gets lucky when you cry out that you’re there again.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck!” Your knees sting from the rug beneath them, and your hands make a fist around the strings between your fingers. “Oh my God.”

He pulls out slowly, kissing down your spine while his warm seed spills out of you, trickling down your leg.

You lay on your back on the floor, much too tired to stand, and watch him pull his briefs back up, on a mission to dampen a face cloth to wipe you down with. He comes back with one, and wipes the cum from your legs and pussy, leaving small kisses in the wake of the warm water that refreshes you.

He gives a final kiss to your lower stomach before he tosses the cloth in the direction of his hamper. He lays beside you on the floor, taking your face in his metal hand and pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and forehead and chin.

It's silent for a moment, before he decides, "I need to invest in a sturdier bed."

[amimimi]

it’s so brand new, babe; kyan reki

request: “I was wondering if you could do like a one shot/drabble of reki and his s/o first? like it’s all soft and fluffy and awkward.”

pairings: reki x fem!reader

warnings: 18 +, smut, swearing, unprotected sex, reader and reki are first years in college!

word count: 5.0k +

notes: THIS WAS SO MFIN LONG. the title is from “our first time” by bruno mfin mars. i literally saw this ask and had to lie down for like an hour because my brain was going “-@$;);/&9”. i apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors!

“oh my god—reki, hold still!” you chide for the fifth time as reki flinches as though you’ve punched him.

“you’re literally pulling hair off my face? how can i hold still?” reki cries indignantly, rubbing his left eyebrow and holding up your lavender hand mirror to examine the damage. “is this gonna bruise?”

“i’m only plucking your eyebrow hair...how would that bruise?”

you and reki were having your usual friday movie nights. usually, you’d have it at reki’s place considering his sisters demanded to join you both to watch disney movies. but you both had switched up for tonight. your parents were on vacation for the weekend so you two had the place to yourselves for the next day and a half.

you were straddling reki’s lap while he relaxed against a cushion chair. every now and then you would raise yourself up on your knees to make sure you were plucking at the right angle.

you watched as reki frowned at his reflection in the hand mirror, gently raising his fingers to his brows.

“why is the skin red then?” reki questioned, bringing the mirror even closer to his face.

“because you keep moving and I keep accidentally pinching you” you reply, trying to loosen reki’s grip on the mirror and put it to the side. “lemme finish up!”

reki hesitates, but places the mirror down beside him. “i’m trusting you, y/n...”

you grin and lean down to kiss reki’s nose. “i know and i appreciate you for that” you say allowing your hand that isn’t holding the tweezers to lift reki’s chin up. his eyes twinkle up at you as you lean in again to lightly kiss him on the lips this time. reki tilts his head back, allowing you more access and you give a pleased hum against his mouth. at one point, you drop the tweezers to the floor and drape your arm over reki’s neck to brace yourself. eagerly, reki sits up straighter to appease you. he’s always likes how easily you both slipped in and out of physical affection—sure it flustered him to know end but he loved it so much.

your kissing is getting sloppier by the second and you both are now openly moaning into each other’s mouths. reki just barely places his hands on your waist before loud, discordant chords blare from the horror movie you had been watching, followed by an equally loud screech. reki jolts with a gasp, almost throwing you off his lap.

“holy fuck!” he wheezes, shutting his eyes bringing his palm up to his forehead. your heart is still hammering in your chest, but you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. reki opens his eyes to weakly glare up at you.

“you jumped so hard” you bring the back of your hand up to your mouth to stifle your giggles.

reki slightly thrusts one of his legs up from under you in retaliation, earning a squeak from you as your balance was momentarily thrown off. he chuckles as you lightly slap his chest with a pout.

you turn your torso around to grab the remote on the coffee table and turn the volume down. with the movie now barely audible, you turn back around to reki and set the remote down.

“don’t want my baby getting scared again” you coo teasingly, wrapping your arms around reki’s neck and pursing your lips out at him.

“shut up” reki warns you, but holds no heat to his words. not when he’s grinning up at you so sweetly with his hands gently placed on your waist—as if you were the most precious being in the world to him. he notes that you’re wearing one of his t-shirts, yellow with a gear depicted in the middle. it’s slightly oversized on him, so you’re practically swimming in it, the sleeves stopping right above your elbows.

reki loves you, he knows he does. but every now and then, you’ll say or do something—even as simple as shooting him a look and he’s gripped with an overwhelming sense of fondness that surprises even him. and right now, seeing you in his shirt, straddling his lap, smiling at him like it was the only thing you knew —he feels that same sense of fondness urgently clench in his stomach.

“come here”, reki half begs pushing his head forward, his voice slightly cracking. he wants you to do something about the fondness—the adoration that expands in his chest, threatening to steal his breath. he needs you to kiss him—to do something.

you slowly inch your face forward until your lips ghosts one another. when you both kiss again, it’s a lot more gentle and slow. you pull back, breathing slightly hard, to kiss the right side of his brow bone, then his temple. reki let’s his head tilt back gently, struggling to control his breathing as you litter kisses down to his neck. he runs his hands up and down your waist repeatedly, in an attempt to conceal the way his hands are shaking.

suddenly, he feels you place a soft kiss on the part of his neck just beneath his earlobe and he can’t help the harsh gasp that flies from his mouth. his hips automatically buck up into yours, causing you to give a stunned moan right into reki’s ear.

shakily, you stop kissing reki’s neck as you opt to bury your face into his shoulder, gasping back another moan, very much aware of reki’s semi hard on pressing against the inside of your thigh.

reki isn’t fairing much better.

his eyes are squeezed shut as he bites the back of his hand, breathing harshly through his nose. you both struggle to gather yourselves while reki repeatedly apologizes.

“m’sorry, i didn’t—i didn’t mean to do that, i’m sorry” reki’s very much aware of how small and shaky his voice sounds. he feels you slightly shaking against him, so he wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing up and down your back. “didn’t mean that, i’m sorry, angel”

dazed, you pull your head up from reki’s shoulder to gaze at him. his cheeks are flushed, as he slightly pants through his mouth. he’s looking at you apologetically, puppy dog eyes and all. you realize then that reki is equally affected by you as you are by him. you can’t take your eyes off of his lips, wet and pink from kissing you. you start to feel feverish, every inch of your skin tingling with desire.

“i—” you pause, fidgeting under his gaze. even in the throes of desire, you still find it in you to be slightly embarrassed about what you want to say next. reki sees your hesitance because he sits up even straighter, furrowing his brow as he rubs his hands along the side of your arms.

“baby, what’s wrong?” reki gently questions and you can’t miss the concern in his voice.

steeling yourself, you place both of your hands on reki’s chest. “reki, i wanna go all the way” you declare, before quickly glancing up at him to meet his wide eyes. “with you, that is—only if you’re comfortable!”

reki is frozen, looking at you like a deer in headlights. he doesn’t know why he’s so stunned. you both have been dating for a while now, and you both had been sexually intimate before so why is his brain malfunctioning. and it’s not like he hasn’t thought of having sex with you, he has—a lot. he just never made a move in fear of pushing you or making you uncomfortable.

reki continues to blink at you and you rush to backtrack.

“it doesn’t have to be tonight—or even this year! it’s whenever you’re ready, baby” your hands travel up to cup reki’s face, who still can’t find it in him form any words. “i just wanted to let you know that i want you—in every way possible.”

“i-i want you too” reki manages, still looking at you like a deer in headlights. he notes that his throat is startling dry before he swallows. “i want you like that too”

“you do?” you ask him and he can’t, for the life of him, figure out why you sound so surprised.

“yeah”, reki croaks, his shock wearing off only to be replaced by embarrassment. his ears are burning and he knows he’s blushing straight down to his chest. “i have for a while...”

“oh” you breathe, your hands still cupping his face. the both of you stare at each other a little more, before you break the silence. “your face feels warm”

“you just asked to have sex with me, what did you expect?” he murmurs, trying to look anywhere but at you. you feel your face slightly heat up at his words, but you giggle and rub your thumbs across his cheeks.

“why are you surprised? have you seen how you look?” you grin at him and reki sighs, covering his face with one hand. “i’m also, you know, very much in love with you, so there’s that”

“why are you bent on embarrassing me?” he groans, while you try to remove his hand from off his face.

“why can’t you take a compliment?” you ask back. reki drops his hand from his face, his eyes narrowed at you. paying no mind, you lean forward and pepper his face with kisses.

“do wanna—go to your room then?” reki’s breath catches in his throat, as you continue to kiss his face. you pull back, staring at him cautiously.

“do you want that? i mean, to have sex?” you question, not breaking eye contact with him. “like, right now?”

“yes” he breathes, even though his hands are shaking as he grips your waist. he let’s his forehead rest against yours, maintaining eye contact with you.

“are you sure?” you whisper, brushing your nose against his. he moves to press his lips against yours.

“i’ve never been this sure in my life” he murmurs against your lips and you shiver in response. cautiously, he wraps his arms around your lower back and hoists you up, standing to his feet. gasping slightly, you wrap your legs around his waist and tighten your grasp on his shoulders.

reki carries you over to the base of the stairwell before giving you a nervous smile and a quick smooch. you grab at the tuft of hair at the base of his neck and watch him concentrate on walking up your staircase whilst carrying you. his eyes fixed downward making sure he doesn’t miss a step and want to coo at how cute he looks right now. but also, you’re mentally swooning at how steady he’s carrying you up the stairs, his arms not faltering even once.

“mmm, so strong” you murmur and kiss his cheek. “very strong, indeed”

reki glances up and shoots you a look of fond exasperation before he nearly trips up a step, one hand grasping for the rail as he falters. you both squeak, as you tighten you’re grasp around his neck and he squeezes his arm around your waist.

“y-you’re distracting me!” reki fusses, taking a moment to regain his balance before letting his hand drop from the railing and placing it around your waist. “i almost dropped you...”

“sorry” you reply, burying your face in his shoulder so he won’t see that your smiling.

reki finishes his ascent the stairwell and walks down the hall to your bedroom. his heart hammers in his chest as he quickly fumbles with the door knob, because wow, this is really happening. pushing his way into your room, reki kisses you softly before gently laying you down on your bed, settling over you before he leans down to kiss you again. you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to bring him closer, moaning wantonly into his mouth. reki pulls back and grins, but you only begin kissing up his neck

"a little impatient, huh?" he gently teases, reveling in the fact that in this moment, he slightly has the upper hand. your lips still pressed against reki's neck, you scoff through your nose and rut your hips against his pelvis, eliciting a strangled cry from reki.

reki squeezes his eyes shut, bowing his head beside your neck. "fuck" he pants, trying to breathe through a head rush as you giggle. his cheek is pressed against the side of your neck, taking in how feverish your skin feels.

when he feels less dizzy, he turns his head to the side and softly kisses your neck. "how do you want to do this, baby?" reki whispers between kisses. something about hearing him say that with his breath fanning against your ear makes you want to cry.

you arch your back, so that your chest is flushed against his, your thighs slightly rubbing together for some kind of friction. "i, uh--" you pause, trying to form a coherent sentence with the one braincell that isn't painting mental images of reki's face screwed up in pleasure, or his voice cracking with desire, or his hiccuping moans--

"maybe, use your fingers first" you sigh airily. reki sits up, supporting his weight on both his elbows and looking down at you. his eyes are practically glowing, glittering as they reflect the lamp from your bedside. he's gazing at you so softly with his brows slightly furrowed, you almost sob.

"you gotta show me" reki murmurs, reaching down to take one of your hands in his and interlocking his fingers with yours. he brings the back of your palms up to his lips before giving your hand a quick squeeze. "i wanna do it right"

you and reki have definitely been sexually intimate before--you initiating most of the time. he's maybe fingered you once or twice and he did surprisingly well.

"you do do it right" you tell him, smoothing his bangs back from his forehead and he gulps, shaking his head slightly.

"i want to do it right-right, like--" he hesitates, wondering how explicit he should be before squeezing your hand again. "i want to do it right so i don't hurt you later..."

"oh" your prop yourself up on your elbows, resting your back higher up against your pillows before smiling up at reki. "alright, come here"

reki crawls up beside you, until your faces are both leveled. you both peer at each other through heavy lidded eyes.

"hi" you whisper, your face almost hurting with how hard you're smiling.

"hey" reki breathes, grinning oh so prettily back at you. he pushes himself up on one elbow, gently placing his other hand on your inner thigh. his hand on your thigh trembles and you place your hand over his in an attempt to soothe his nerves. you nuzzle your face closer to his and kiss him, pulling back to press your nose against his.

"we don't have to do this, sweetheart" you tell him, gazing at him intently to let him know that you mean what you're saying. "i want you to be comfortable"

reki kisses your forehead, before shifting back to press his nose against yours. "i'm feel the most comfortable when i'm with you, y/n" he says sincerely, and you slightly melt forward into his face. "and i wanna do this, i just—i don't wanna disappoint you"

"you won't, baby" you smile and reki feels his heart squeeze at you blinking up at him so cutely. "we're just, figuring it out. we got all weekend"

reki takes a shaky breath before smiling down at you, feeling reassured. "besides, i'll literally be turned on by whatever you do. i get wet watching you do a railslide—no joke" you grin sweetly up at reki, despite the explicit nature of your words. reki opens his mouth like he wants to respond, but he just shuts his mouth and shakes his head at you. "don't shake your head at me, i see you blushing!"

reki, who is in fact blushing, shakes his head again and giggles. "i don't know what i'm gonna do with you..." he pinches the inside of your thigh, causing you to squeal. you squeeze your hand over his and direct his hand higher up your thigh.

“i can think of one or two things” you murmur, guiding his hand over your clothed sex. reki’s eyes widened at how soaked the cotton fabric of your panties are. he’s whimpering slightly when you urge his fingers to push your panties to the side. you arch your back, inhaling shakily, as reki’s fingers brush against your folds, collecting your essence along his fingertips.

“fuck—” reki moans, his head spinning from how good you feel against his fingers. he can’t help when his mind replicates the sensation of how warm and wet you feel around his cock. “fuck”

hearing reki like that only spurred you even further, your pussy clenching around nothing. “wait, wait—” you gasp, your hand dropping from reki’s. reki pulls his hand back like he’s been burned, peering up at you anxiously.

before he could ask if you were okay, you pull the shirt your wearing (his shirt, reki notes) up to your stomach before harshly tugging down your panties down your legs. reki watches, slightly amused at how hurried and frazzled you seem, as you tug your panties off and toss them towards the far end of your bed.

“you okay?” he asks, slightly smiling as you lay back down, wiggling around to get comfortable beside him. you nod, breathing a little fast, gazing up at him.

“i just wanted to feel you a bit better” you sigh, leaning up to give him a sloppy kiss.

“can i take my shirt off?” he asks, sounding a little shy.

“please” you groan, tugging at the hem of his shirt with one hand. he giggles and you can’t help but laugh with him, your desire mixing with adoration at the sound of his giggle. you both tug his t-shirt off, leaving him in just his basketball shorts. smiling, reki repositions himself alongside you, placing his hand on your thigh.

you guide his hand back over your wetness before reki stills. “wait” he says, gripping your hand. you look up at him, heart dropping when you see how solemn he looks. “your plushies”

you blink up at reki, wondering if you heard him correctly. “my what?”

“your plushies.” he repeats, with a lot more emphasis, still looking very serious.

“w-what about them?” you asked, properly confused and frantic from the loss of reki’s touch.

“they can’t watch us!” reki finishes urgently, glancing up at the row of sanrio and dolphin plushies by your head. reki looks back down at you to find that you’re staring up at him, unimpressed, and he presses his lips shut before bursting into giggles. you flinch when you feel drops of reki’s spit hit your face.

“you spit on my face!” you moan, tugging your cinnamoroll plushie from beside your pillow and throwing it to the carpeted ground.

“oh my god, y/n—don’t throw them!” he gasps between laughs. “lemme put them at the end of the bed...faced away, of course!”

reki sits up and scoops the remainder of your plushies, aligning them at the end of your bed. you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him with a frown. he’s so annoying—wait, fuck, when did his back get so toned?

“i can’t tell if you’re doing this to me on purpose or if you actually are concerned about the welfare of my plushies” you say, transfixed by how toned his back is. there are scars littered from previous beefs and a little birthmark under his left shoulder.

he turns back to you, shooting you lofty grin before crawling back over to you. “a little bit of both” he replies, positioning himself alongside you as he supports himself up on one elbow. he tilts his head to the side, still giving a shit eating grin.

“my plushies have seen me masturbate before, they’ll live” you roll your eyes, laying your head back on your pillow. reki’s mouth drops, looking sincerely shocked and you almost want to laugh.

“that is...so wrong” reki whispers, looking genuinely horrified.

“yeah, i know, i know” you rush, looking up at him pleadingly. “can you please fuck me, now?”

reki hears the urgency in your voice and places his hand back along your inner thigh. “okay, baby, okay” he murmurs as you catch his lips in a desperate kiss. you slightly hitch your shirt up, revealing your naked pussy and reki practically vibrates at the sight of it. it’s glistening with your essence, swollen and so fucking pretty. reki has never really seen you nude like that, the few times that he has fingered you he was too shy to fully look. but now, he gets to take your pussy in, in all it’s glory and fuck, does it go straight to his dick.

“do you still want me to guide you, baby? i don’t mind” you ask, peering up at him through your eye lashes. he looks back over to you and kisses you on your open mouth. he pulls back, a string of saliva connected to both your lips and you clench around nothing at the sight of it, your hips rutting up.

maybe it was seeing your pussy, completely naked and glistening, but reki felt himself getting slightly nervous again. “k-kinda? i like feeling your hand on mine” he whispers sheepishly. you grin up at him, snaking your arm closest to him around his neck.

“awww, baby. you like me holding your hand?” you coo up at him and he can’t help but grin, cheeks flushed despite himself.

“should i get up and move your plushies to the closet?” he threatens teasingly and you whimper, placing the hand that isn’t hooked around his neck, over his hand on your inner thigh. you guide his hand back up to your pussy and reki shudders when his fingers reconnect with your wetness.

you grip the back of his hand, while he gently slides his fingers up and down your folds. reki leans down to kiss you all alongside your jaw as you pant.

“you can—put a finger in now, reki” your breath catching on a moan, eyes squeezed shut.

“okay” he whispers, against your jaw. his fingers brush against the opening for a bit before he gently pushes his index finger in. you give a shaky sigh while reki groans as you clench around his finger. he rubs his finger upwards against the spongey part of your walls, letting his thumb brush against your clit—eliciting a low moan from you.

you let your hand travel from reki’s wrist up to his forearm and grip tightly. you’re half aware that you’re grinding against reki’s hand in an attempt to increase the friction. reki brings his head down, kissing the part of your collarbone that peeks out from his oversized shirt you’re wearing.

“another finger, reki, please” you moan as reki sucks a bruise on the right side of your collarbone. he obliges readily, sliding his middle finger inside your pussy, sighing dreamily at how easily you take it in. you tilt your head back, reeling at the feel of reki’s calloused fingers—so much thicker than yours, as he curls them and begins slowly pumping them in and out.

“is that okay?” he murmurs with his lips pressed against your collarbone. your chest is properly heaving now, the hand that isn’t hooked around reki’s neck grasping onto his bicep.

“yes, you’re doing so well, i love you so much” you whimper, feeling reki groan against your chest. he peels his head off of your collarbone to glance at your face to already see you staring up at him, eyes half-lidded and glossed over as you writhe under him. “ ‘want you, reki, i want you so bad”

at your words, reki whimpers as his body is racked with desire. “i know, baby, i want you too” he replies shakily, rutting against your thigh. his cock is straining painfully against the front of his briefs. “shit, you’re gonna wreck me, sweetheart”

“oh~” you moan so sweetly and reki leans down to press his mouth to yours, as if to swallow your moans. you’re tingling all over, brain turning to mush as all you can feel is the mounting pleasure between your legs. you can hear reki breathing harshly, moans clipping his breath now and again. you hear the lewd sound of reki quickly pumping his fingers in and out of your wetness. the feeling of his chest heaving against yours, and his cock, swollen and hard, against your thigh.

your lower stomach tightens harshly as you clench hard around reki’s fingers. “reki, i’m gonna cum” you warn, a frantic edge to your voice. you’re panting now, chest heaving wildly as you grind in time with reki’s hand. mind reeling, you tighten your grip around reki’s neck, trying to brace yourself as your oncoming orgasm threatens to knock the breath right out of you.

“it’s okay, baby, i got you” reki voice cracks, sliding his free hand under your back and pulling you closer to him. he presses a kiss against your forehead, before resting his forehead on top of yours. “i’m here, angel, go ahead”

you whine at his words, only managing to cry out reki’s name before giving a full bodied shudder as your orgasm crashes into you like a 18 wheeler truck. reki kisses you through it, moaning as he feels you gush around his fingers. you sob against his mouth, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

reki pulls back to take you in. your hair is matted with sweat against your forehead, eyes glossy with lust, mouth slightly gaped open as you pant through the last of your orgasm.

“you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world” he smiles down at you, kissing your eyelid and slightly giggling when he feels your eyelash flutter against his lips. “i’m so fucking lucky, i can’t believe i get to be your boyfriend”

“don’t say that...” you gasp, hips twitching as reki slightly curls and uncurls his fingers inside of you. “don’t say that because i’ll literally have your baby—don’t”

reki’s giggles, nose scrunched up and his eyes glittering. you reach up and gently pinch his nose, earning another round of laughter. he gently slides his fingers out of you, marveling at the string of cum that connects from his fingers to your heat. his cock throbs at the sight, and he’s suddenly reminded of his painful erection.

reki realizes you must’ve noticed too, because you hook your fingers under the band of his basketball shorts. “can i take your pants off, baby?” you murmur, sitting up against your pillows. reki audibly gulps, before nodding, giving you permission.

you tug his basketball shorts down his hips, to reveal the outline of reki’s cock, strained against the fabric of his briefs. the front of his briefs are darkened with pre-cum. you press your palm against reki’s clothed sex and an airy moan escapes from reki’s lips.

you palm him though his underwear for a couple of seconds before you look back up to him. “can i take your underwear off?” you ask gently, feeling as reki begins to shake against you again—nerves or arousal, you weren’t sure.

“please” he begs weakly and you oblige, hooking your fingers under his waistband and shimmying his underwear down his hip. his cock springs up against his toned stomach and you feel yourself getting wet again at the sight of it. the head is darkened, red and glistening with pre-cum. he’s a little more on the longer side, average girth and prominent veins.

you gently wrap your hand around reki’s cock and reki all but chokes, shifting himself over you. he barely manages to support his own weight in his elbows, harshly trembling. “you okay?” you ask, slowly pumping your hand up and down his shaft. your eyes flash up to watch reki’s face. his eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open as he winces in pleasure.

reki nods, giving a choked “yeah” before bowing his head as you continue to pump at his dick.

“it’s so cute” you coo, squeezing tighter around reki’s shaft. reki bucks into your hand, a whine forming from his chest.

“please don’t tease me right now, y/n” he begs, sounding near tears. he’s sweating with how worked up he’s getting.

“i’m not, baby” you murmur, increasing the speed at which you pump reki’s dick. a shaky moan warbles from his lips and he presses his forehead against your collarbone. “i mean it, you’re perfect—every inch of you”

reki continues to make the most prettiest sounds as he hovers over you. the anticipation of having sex with you incites a round of full bodied shudders and he slightly sinks his teeth into your collarbone.

“i-i don’t think i’ll last long, angel” he whines, sounding thoroughly apologetic as he ruts against your palm.

you turn you head to kiss reki’s temple. “s’okay, reki” you tell him honestly, loosening your grip around reki’s member.

reki sits up on his knees to fully remove his shorts and underwear. he shimmies them off hurriedly and places them on the edge of the bed. “how do wanna do this?” he asks shyly. “i read it’s easier for you if we do it with me on top”

you giggle, sinking further down into your pillows. “my studious boyfriend” you sigh, reaching your arms out for him. reki shoots you an unimpressed look, but still crawls into your arms like a cat caught in the rain.

“s-shut up!” he says, but it doesn’t sound too convincing. especially when you grab his member and run it along your folds to collect some of your wetness. reki’s head spins at the feel of you, letting out a low groan and bracing himself on his elbows yet again.

“you ready?” you ask beneath him, directing his dick just over your entrance. reki starts shaking again, but he manages a frantic nod.

“yes, yes please” he squeaks. you take a deep breath and insert the head of reki’s cock into your heat, eliciting groans from the both of you. with your guidance reki slowly slides in, shaking above you at how tight you feel while you wrap your arms around reki’s neck and moan.

by the time reki bottoms out, you’re both trembling and whining in each other’s grasp. reki peers down at you to see your eyes squeezed shut, your lips forming a perfect “o”. the way your face scrunches up as he feels your walls, wet and warm and tight, clench around him as you adjust to his girth almost makes him cum right then and there.

at one point, you wiggle your hips to try and accommodate reki’s cock and a jolt travels straight up his spine. feeling his balls tighten, he groans and hangs his head. he’s not gonna cum. he’s not gonna cum. he’s not gonna-

“reki?” you whisper, gently rubbing his shoulders, concerned about how quiet he’s been. the sound of your voice almost makes him cry. “baby, are you okay?”

“give me a second, p-please don’t talk” he wheezes, sounding apologetic as he desperately tries to gather himself. he takes controlled breaths, counting down back from 100.

reki’s around 54, when he finally opens his eyes to see you peering up at him, concern evident in your face. he’s still shaking, but he’s sure he won’t cum right then and there.

“sorry, i was close just then...” he mumbles, face burning even brighter if that was possible. you smile softly up at him and bring him down for a kiss. gently, you thrust your hips upwards and reki chokes, fisting the bed sheets.

“you can move, darling” you tell him, breathing heavily as your pussy continues to flutter around reki’s cock. he feels so good, so good. and every so often, you can feel him twitch inside you and it makes you want to flip him over and ride him into tomorrow.

reki is looking down at you apprehensively as he chews his bottom lip, whines catching in his throat. “i won’t hurt you, right?” he asks weakly, as you rub your hands up and down his back.

“no, just go gently for now” you assure him, your hips slightly bucking up into him. “mm—you feel so good”

reki knows he isn’t gonna last long—he knows that. just from the couple minutes of you adjusting around him and wiggling your hips to accommodate him already has him panting like he’s sprinting laps.

nevertheless, reki slowly pulls his dick out and pushes it back, his eyes watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you melt into the mattress, shutting your eyes as you shakily sigh. reki shakes his hand under your oversized shirt and places it on your waist as he continues to languidly thrust into you.

he leans his head down to kiss you, sloppy and wet. “y/n” he groans at the way you clench around him as his pace slightly quickens. “i-i love you, so much”

you whine, hooking your legs around his waist and tightening your grasp around his neck as he continues to thrust into you. the way his head drags against the spongy part of you pussy, has your toes curling and you rut your hips up to meet his.

you open your eyes to see reki, lips wet and eyes teary, gasping over you, face flushed, and eyebrows furrowed. reki, your boyfriend, your high school sweetheart, your baby. reki, who smile tiredly as he walks you home after his late shift, who is pretty good at karaoke but convinces you otherwise, who kisses you like you’re the most precious being, who makes it his personal mission to make you feel safe. reki, your reki.

“you take such good care of me, reki, you’re such a good boyfriend” you whine out and reki sobs, hips beginning to falter. “i love you, baby”

reki’s lower stomach and thighs tighten as his orgasm rapidly approaches. drool begins to pool in his mouth as he pants harshly, moans catching in his throat. the sound of skin slapping and both of your moans floats in your bedroom.

“i’m gonna cum” he gasps, slightly unnerved by how rapidly he seems to lose control. his vision is beginning to go white around the edges and his arms shake uncontrollably. “y/n”

“s’okay, baby” you murmur, as reki begins thrusting erratically. you kiss his shoulder before settling back against your pillows. “s’okay, reki, go ahead”

“i’m sorry” reki whines as he pull his cock out, pumping it only twice before he cums on your upper thigh. the groan that tumbles out of his mouth sounds so heavenly, that you sigh dreamily as he collapses against you, shuddering in the aftermath of his orgasm.

you wrap your arms around reki as he rests the side of his face against your chest, still panting like he’s ran a marathon. “you okay, baby?” you murmur into his hair, rubbing your hand alongside his arm. reki only gives a small whimper, his eyes half-shut and he still trembles on top of you. you feel something wet pool at your chest and you look to realize reki is drooling. “baby, you’re drooling”

“s’my shirt, let me drool” he murmurs and your chest jumps with laughter. reki wraps his arms around your torso and nuzzles his face into your chest. “thank you, i love you”

you smooth the hair plastered to his forehead back as he begins to drifts off into sleep. you purse your lips when you realized you were gonna have to wake him up in a bit to go pee. but for now, you could enjoy the afterglow, warm in each other’s embrace.

“i love you too” you whisper into his hair, thinking he had fallen asleep until he shifted to kiss your neck. it grew silent for a bit, until you spoke up. “what if we make it a tradition to dap after we have sex?”

reki is still for a bit, and you think that maybe he actually did fall asleep. suddenly, he shifts up and bites you at the base of you neck, eliciting a shriek from you.

“shut. the. fuck. up” reki mutters into the crook of your neck as you dissolve into a fit of giggles. he begins to laugh too, tightening his grip around your torso.

notes: this...was so long...i'm sorry.

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

I posted about this before, but now I want to elaborate. Holy shit, tickle fics with Sun and Moon are amazing. I love more then I can describe, and I want to do headcanons for them.

- They are both, just insanely ticklish. I don’t care if they’re robots, THEY ARE TICKLISH AS GOD INTENDED. 

- Sun will tickle his brother if he’s too quiet or particularly grumpy, which usually starts a tickle fight brawl.

- Moon doesn’t nearly have as much energy as Sun, but he does know how to get the right spots to make him lose his shit laughing. It doesn’t go on for as long either, since Moon usually tickles him in retaliation and to tire Sun out. Or if Sun won’t go to sleep, either way it’s almost always done just to tire him out enough so he’ll rest. Though he is a special kind of snarky asshole about it, making small little remarks and teasing his brother basically the entire time. He stops when he thinks Sun has had enough, and is careful not to let him get too warm before he needs to shut off for the night. 

- Sun is typically ticklish around the stomach, chest region. Armpits, sides, lower stomach, places like that. His laugh is very hiccupy sounding and tends to be interspersed with many different kinds of laughter if that make sense. going from “AHAHAHAHAHA”, to “heehehahahah” to loud joyful squealing.

- Sun always wins the fights, though. Whether or not he actually starts it, he always finishes it.

- This is due in part to the fact that after being tickled by his brother he gets irrationally and chaotically energized for literally no reason. Like it doesn’t tire him out to be tickled, it fuels him. 

- Moon had no idea how bad it was to get into a tickle fight with him, but he learned quickly. He tends to be stubborn and refuse to laugh when his brother tries to tickle him, either that or he makes snarky little remarks. 

- The first time one of these tickle brawls happened, Moon started it since Sun didn’t want to shut down for the night, and after tickling him to what he thought to be an acceptable amount he pulled himself into the air with the harness to leave. Sun has springs, though, and quite literally tackled him out of the air.

- Moons neck and back are the most ticklish, though he shares in common the areas Sun has ticklish too and vice versa. 

- And the thing is... Sun has SO much more energy then Moon, and also a disturbing amount of practice due to his interactions with children. While Moon is very sassy about it, that only makes Sun more determined to defeat him. It’s worse for him when he gets sassy and coos at his brother jokingly, which he almost always does. And he did the first time too, joking that Sun needs to be careful so he doesn’t “overheat for just a little giggle” while smirking up at him.

- Sun immediately went for his brothers neck. Sun is a very aggressive tickler, a much more adaptable one too. When he’d curl up on himself to hide his neck or cover his mouth with his hands, Sun just immediately started going for an even more ticklish area. 

- When he turned onto his side and muffled his laughter, all Sun did was dig into his neck and lower back at the same time. The combination made Moon lose his mind, and tried to shove him away, and then Sun got EVIL.

- He. would. not. STOP. Moon couldn’t get Sun off of him, and the more he moved the the harder his neck and lower back was tickled. Somehow even the parts that weren’t super ticklish were made so SO much worse because of how intense his tickling was, and how quickly he switched around to tickle every inch of his brother.

- Sun sat on his legs so he couldn’t get away, and the way they bunched up and flailed around when he laughed was something Sun just loved. He also went straight for the gaps in the suit, knowing that those have even more sensors and Moon couldn’t be sassy because he was too busy losing his shit being a squeaky squeally mess.

- Moon isn’t SUPPOSED to be able to even laugh loudly, cause again volume range, but goodness his laughter can reach an INSANE pitch. It is so insanely squeaky considering how low and quiet his voice is, and it just gets worse the more he’s tickled to the point where he can’t even talk anymore.

- Sun wouldn’t stop until his brother literally got to a certain degree of heat, indicating the turn from normal tickling heat to “he literally cannot cool himself down”. But he didn’t stand up, just sitting on his brothers back smugly and playing with the bell on his hat.  

- Moon didn’t have the energy to return the tickles, and took like ten minutes to stop vibrating and emitting smoke from how intense the tickles were. 

in conclusion, Sun doesn’t fuck around.

[dangercocktail]

Late Night Television

Tossing and turning for the better part of the night, Isaac glanced at his phone with the dryness of an insomniac’s eyes. Somewhere after 3 am and he was failing miserably to fall asleep. Sighing in annoyance mostly at himself for not taking edibles or something stronger before bed, he roused himself and threw a pair of basketball shorts over his underwear. Isaac wandered out of his bedroom to the rest of the house. 

Stopping briefly to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Isaac scratched his relatively flat stomach as he made his way to the couch, scrolling through images on his phone. Flipping on the TV, he began highlighting his favorite streaming service when the screen distorted and the input changed. The television had switched to basic cable channels.

“These still exist?” Isaac thought as he took a sip of water. The flashing lights of the television illuminated the room in brightness that almost hurt Isaac’s eyes. On screen, a workout video demonstration was in progress as an extremely fit man insisted viewers call as soon as possible to order the program. 

“No thanks,” Isaac said out loud, pressing the input button on his remote. The flashing lights disappeared and the cool black of streaming channel icons returned. Guiding the remote’s button through them, he began to select one when the screen distorted again. The fitness instructor was back and the volume on his TV began climbing up on its own.

“You there at home!” the man bellowed. “You’re thinking to yourself, how did I get like this?”

Isaac looked at the remote in growing frustration and muttered, “No, I’m thinking what the fuck is wrong with my TV?”

“Well I’ll tell you, it’s because you’re always on that couch,” the television fitness instructor said. “Lazy, feet up, never going for the goals you know you should be!”

As the man said ‘feet up’, the recliner in Isaac’s couch sprang open, leaning Isaac back into the couch and suspending his feet in the air with such speed that it made him audibly gasp.

“The fuck?” Isaac uttered, slightly unnerved. He chalked most of the weirdness he was feeling to being exhausted. As he started to lean forward to push the leg rest down, he heard the man on screen continue.

“And that’s why you’re soft, you’re practically glued to that couch. You lack the discipline that my program can provide. Sure, sure, it started with a few pounds, some extra cookies here, another slice of pizza there, and you started getting soft in the stomach,”’ the man said as other fitness models behind him began doing pushups. Isaac stopped attempting to close the foot rest and immediately leaned back into the couch. It physically felt impossible to not do so. As he sank into the cushions under protest, his stomach began slowly swelling, starting with his lower belly pushing out then wrapping around his belly button like a doughnut. In the span of about ten seconds, he had gained fifteen pounds of belly fat. 

“What the hell?!” Isaac panicked, grabbing at the small ball of fat in his lap. The man on the screen continued.

“But it didn’t stop there, did it? Bad habits breed more bad habits, they’re like rabbits that way,” the man said, his onscreen fitness models moving into sit ups. “Those extra cookies and slices of pizza turn into daily routines; you found yourself seeking out the worst kinds of food that turned that initial fifteen pounds into fifty.”

While Isaac still marveled in shock at the small belly doughnut of fat in his hands, it began swelling through his fingers. The doughnut blossomed and spread around his sides as it moved like a bag filling with pudding. Love handles wobbled into existence and began inflating as the fat moved up his ribcage laying a foundation of frosting-like fat across his torso. It reached his chest where his nipples, tingling with the movement, widened slightly and became puffy. His chest itself developed a slight pudgy layer but then the growth stopped. 

“How is this happening…” Isaac murmured in mounting disbelief, looking down at his larger body. His legs and arms were slightly thicker and his belly now rested like an overinflated basketball in his lap. He grabbed his belly and shook it, the jiggle and wobble of it shaking his love handles and sending slight vibrations through his chest. He tried scooting forward with force to escape the couch but couldn’t get the momentum, his tubby belly making it harder than before to lean forward.

“And ladies and gentlemen, I know it didn’t stop there for you. It’s all too common. Once you’ve gotten a little weight on, you feel like the game is over. That you’ve lost. And that’s when you really binge, because why not? That’s when you become one of those sad people at the buffet, plate after plate after plate, because you’ve given up completely…”

“No…” Isaac uttered as he heard his stomach gurgle again. With a strain and then tear, he felt his ass inflate rapidly, ripping through his underwear and then his oversized basketball shorts. Isaac felt his body rise on the couch several inches as his butt grew, expanding beyond the expanse of the one cushion he was on and starting to lap onto either side, one cheek wedging up against the armrest. As he felt the growth of his behind begin to slow, the mammoth momentum picked up in other areas. 

Isaac’s belly began inflating again, his lower belly stretching and swelling as it began overlapping his crotch, deepening his belly button as it rounded further from Isaac’s view. As his midsection grew to the size of a bean bag chair, Isaac’s chest also began inflating, his nipples puffing up further and widening in a circular motion as his chest jiggled into their own bags of teardrop shaped pudding, rising in the air atop his belly and wrapping around under his armpits. Isaac frantically grabbed at all parts of his body in some vain attempt to hold the fat back but everything was growing unrestrained. As he grabbed and prodded, his own fingers swelled up, the knuckles and individual portions of his fingers disappearing into swollen hot dog like appendages. With a final glance before his belly swelled too big, he saw his feet begin taking on a bee stung appearance as they filled with fat as well.

As all the rest of his body settled into its now obese proportions, Isaac felt a heaviness enter his neck. 

“No no no…” he exclaimed, putting two fat hands on either side of his face. Isaac’s cheeks inflated with fat, merging with a roll that had already started on his neck. As he moved his hands all over his face, he could feel his jawline slowly disappearing as it officially merged with his still rounding neck roll.

The man on the TV continued.

“Now I don’t want to alarm anyone right now. But I seriously believe that if you don’t call this number right now and start this program, there’s no telling what your future may hold. You might end up one of these people so lazy and big they can’t get off their couch, a huge caricature of the potential they once had, a literal ball of fat,” the man said as Isaac looked on in horror. The man seemed to be staring directly at him through the TV screen.

Isaac scrambled to grab his cell phone and call the number. Casting about wildly with his eyes for his phone, he saw the edge of it wedged between his thigh and belly, almost completely obscured. With a heavy huff and a push of effort, Isaac leaned forward to grab it.

His hand fell over a foot short. Issac couldn’t reach the edge of his now massive belly nor touch his own belly button, much less the phone resting on his thigh. And that was when what the man had said fully sunk in. With another gurgling in his stomach, Isaac’s eyes went wide as his body began expanding again, the couch creaking under his massive form as he felt himself expanding in all directions, the fat of his neck melding into his shoulders as he began to grow into a human sphere. His thoughts turned quickly though, as his brain underwent its own change as his body inflated. The horror of his bodily change slowly drained from his mind as a new thought began to take over...‘I’m hungry.”

“So act fast folks, this offer won’t last….”. 

With that final statement, the TV clicked off.

[bloodorangesoup]

Ice Cream and Bad TV | B.B.

Request: Late night thoughts : The only porn bucky watches are the ones that come on tv at like 2 or 3 in the mornings. Imagine cuddling up with him on his living room floor, aimlessly clicking around until you stumble upon the channel & he gets flustered & shy about it & you fuck him while porn plays in the background. Like I think it’s so romantic🥺🥺 riding him while the soft glow of the tv illuminates his face. His moans & grunting blending in with the actors 😫😫

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I cannot for the life of me control myself)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | cuddle fucking, unprotected sex(pretend ur on birth control for a sec)(still wrap it b4 your tap it), flustered Bucky, porn talk, the tiniest bit of sub!Bucky for like half a second, fluffy smut, you get the gist

My Masterlist

Notes: I did this in one sitting so sorry if it’s repetitive or has any mistakes. I think I have a major soft sport for flustered Bucky. I also had to think of a realistic name for a TV porn channel so bear with me. This is my first time writing smut in non-headcanon form so let me know how I did! Happy reading!

It was 2am on a Thursday night when your phone rang with your boyfriend's caller I.D. This wasn't the first time that Bucky had called you for this instance, it became a routine for you to talk him down after a nightmare and you prepared to do so when you picked up. Usually the first thing you would hear was his heavy breaths, the anxious buzz in his body making him fumble his words as he tried to focus on talking to you, so you were surprised to be met with still breathing and his typical deep, steady voice.

"Doll? You there?"

"Yeah, Buck, I'm here," you replied with a yawn, trying to sound as awake as possible. Bucky could hear the airiness of your voice and let out a sigh.

"Sorry, baby, I woke you up."

"You say that every time, I don't mind waking up for you. Besides, I don't have work tomorrow so I don't exactly need my beauty rest."

There was a pause. You could still hear static from the other side of the call but Bucky didn't say a word.

"Buck? You okay?" As if you snapped him out of a daydream, his hurried words rushed through the phone.

"Yeah yeah, sorry. I'm kind of out of it right now, I had another bad dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You had expected his usual answer of yes, then you would listen to his thoughts and comfort him through the horrific reality that were his nightmares.

"You said you don't have work tomorrow? Do you think you could come over right now? Actually never mind, I don't know what I'm saying, it's 2am." You could practically see Bucky shaking his head as he took back his question.

"I'll be there in twenty, James. You better have some blankets and pillows ready for me because we're taking over your couch."

Bucky let out a breath over the line, "See you soon, y/n, love you."

"Love you more," you said quickly before hanging up, not letting him get in the last 'I love you.'

~

Forty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky's lap on his living room floor. You two had abandoned the idea of the couch and chose to make a small fort with the couch as your scaffolding. There was a surprising amount of pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you, you had no idea Bucky even owned them all.

He sat with his back against the couch, your legs laid over his and your arms were around his neck, bringing his head down to your chest. He talked about his nightmare, sparing you the gruesome details, and once he was done he closed his eyes and leaned further into your chest, breathing in your scent. You gave the crown of his head a kiss and rested your head atop his. Comfortable silence washed over the two of you before you spoke up.

“You know what always makes me feel better?” you asked, lifting your head just enough to look down at him.

“What?” he mumbled into your chest. A soft smile graced your face at his cuteness.

“Ice cream and bad TV!” you announced excitedly before wiggling out of his grasp.

You did a little jog to his kitchen and reached down into the freezer to grab a small pint of ice cream you knew Bucky always kept stashed for you whenever you came around. Picking up two spoons and turning off all the lights in the apartment on your way, you quickly made your way back into the living room, lifting Bucky’s arms to situate yourself back into your position on his lap. You popped the lid of the small tub and handed it to Bucky along with a spoon. With your hands now free, you felt around in the dark for the remote and turned on the TV.

Waiting for the TV to completely turn on, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. You hummed at the taste of the cold sweetness coating your tongue. You gasped as you opened your eyes, finding Bucky scooping out some ice cream and lowering it to your mouth.

“Oh wait, let me make this cuter!” you squealed with your eyes wide.

Copying Bucky’s actions, you took a spoonful and lifted it to his lips, the both of you opening wide and feeding each other. You giggled at the cliché moment and Bucky couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable you were.

You turned back to the TV, lifting the remote in your hands to change the channel to anything but the news that was already playing on the screen. As you flipped through sports recaps, music channels, infomercials, and movies that were already almost over, you sighed.

“Ugh, there’s nothing good on. Maybe if I start from the end of the list there’ll be better stuff,” you huffed.

Before Bucky could register what you said you had already typed in the biggest number you could enter and began flipping down through channels. Surfing through the empty screens, you landed on one called HotNet and suddenly the screen was completely taken over by a pair of boobs which then cut to a woman on her back and a man on top of her, rutting into her at a slow pace, while her moans echoed throughout the apartment. You quickly shuffled with the remote, trying to turn the volume down from it’s loud setting, spooked at the loud, obscene noise coming from the speaker.

“Oh my gosh, I wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed into Bucky’s chest, “God, I hope your neighbors didn’t hear that.”

Bucky stared at the screen with wide eyes, hoping you would change the channel before noticing that the channel was in the On Demand section. You gasped through your laugh, collecting yourself before turning back to the TV and shaking your head.

“Jeez, I didn’t even know they still had porn like this on public television.” You looked back down at the remote, clicking the Guide button. Bucky’s heart stopped as the description took over the screen, the video still playing in the top right corner. In bold letters the words On Demand titled the card. Even worse, the bottom of the screen displayed a small box containing the information,

$19.99

purchased with debit card xxxx-9758

You furrowed your brows in confusion, realization slowly softening them, before a mischievous smirk took over your face. You lifted your head to look at Bucky, his face looked down at your lap, refusing to meet your eyes. You tapped the bottom of his chin with the remote, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Did you order TV porn, Jamie?” He could hear the teasing tone in your voice, and you only ever used that nickname when joking around, yet Bucky still felt extremely embarrassed. He felt as if he just got walked in on while touching himself. It didn’t help that it was you that saw it, he wanted to crawl in a hole and never look back.

“Ah, you’re blushing,” you squealed as you took his cheeks in your hands, “oh come on, it’s not that embarrassing Bucky.”

“Ugh, can we please pretend you didn’t just see that,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes to escape your stare. He set down the ice cream next to him and lifted his forearm over his eyes.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself and pushing up to swing your leg under you to the other side of his lap, you straddled him.

“Hey, it’s really not that bad. I mean we’ve had sex before Buck, I think you’d rather have me find this than Sam or someone else.” He let out another groan and lowered his head to lean against your neck.

“Angel, please don’t talk about Sam while you’re on top of me and there’s porn playing on the TV.”

You laughed and ran your hands down his arms, letting one of your hands run up behind his neck and weaving your fingers into his hair. You gripped the back of his head and gently tugged him back up to face you.

“Why,” you sang, deciding to have some fun with him in his flustered state, “is this turning you on?” you whispered the last part.

Before he could respond you leaned down and kissed him. You didn’t bother to start off slow as you usually would, Bucky could taste the hunger from every parting of your lips. His hands gripped your waist, you rocked your weight forwards to rub against him. Bucky’s head clouded, his senses felt overloaded in the best way possible, your movements mixed with the sounds of the moaning coming from the TV were getting him hot. You pulled back before getting too carried away, a smile on your swollen lips.

“So, baby, tell me about it.” You said. It was Bucky’s turn to furrow his brows and he cocked his head to the side in question, mind still foggy from the feeling of you grinding on him.

“What kind of porn do you watch?” you clarified, looking at him like you just asked what his favorite color was.

“Uhm, you want to know about that stuff?” Bucky looked at you with caution, feeling out if he should listen to you or not.

“Well, yeah. I mean I don’t know how it was back then, but most people nowadays watch porn. It’s not super taboo to talk about it,” you explained. You weren’t going to force him to talk about it if he really didn’t want to, but your desire to hear what Bucky was into was strong.

He hesitated for a moment, looking in your eyes and seeing curiosity clouded with lust. He cleared his throat.

“Well, pretty much this stuff,” he gestured with his hand to the TV before putting it back on your waist, “there’s this girl on there, she kinda looks like you, so I buy the videos with her.” He closed his eyes and internally groaned at his words, he didn’t mean to come off so perverted. God, you had already found his porn, the last thing he needed was for you to be thinking he was a creep.

“Y’know that’s actually kinda sweet,” you giggled, “what do you like about those videos?”

Feeling a bit more comfortable knowing you weren’t grossed out, Bucky continued.

“I like the ones where it’s dark and slow. It’s usually quiet and there’s candles and stuff,” he explained shyly. Of all the surprises that came with dating Bucky, you had to admit finding out he was into romantic porn was one of the biggest ones.

Bucky cleared his throat again before questioning you, “Do you watch porn?” He felt almost wrong asking that. He knew that women in this age were more sexually liberated, but the words still felt sticky in his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, of course I do.” Bucky seemed surprised at how casually you answered. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you to go on.

“Well specifically, I actually really like the videos that are like this,” you said, your head looking down at you straddling him, he followed your gaze, taking in how nice you felt on his lap. You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest. Your faces were so close your noses were almost touching. You could feel his rapid heart beat under your palm and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Do you ever watch the ones that look like this, Bucky?” He looked up at you and nodded with wide eyes, his pupils were blown and his mouth was open like he was searching for the words to respond.

You grasped his jaw in your hand, your thumb on his chin, and looked him in the eyes. You wanted nothing more than to jump his bones, but with the newfound knowledge you had, you took your time with your actions. Within the last five minutes, Bucky had revealed to you not only that he liked soft, romantic porn, but that he also watched a specific actress because she looks like you. The one goal in your head was to fulfill his fantasy the best you could at the moment.

With his head still in your hand, you held your eye contact as you let your knees move out, grinding yourself against his growing erection. He let out an involuntary whimper. That was the last straw. You pulled his face to yours, joining him in a hard, yet loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your chest against his, trying to get as close as possible.

Bucky’s dick was painfully hard. He couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of you on top of him. His body felt like it was on fire, he was insatiably horny and couldn’t control the way his hips bucked up to grind with you. He felt like a horny teenager the way his mind was filled only with images of you naked, imagining you like that on top of him like you were now.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, keeping your pace slow as you glided it across and bit at his lower lip. A moan made its way out of your mouth and into his as you felt him buck up against you.

You slid your hands down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before his arms raised, giving you access to peel it off him, throwing it up on the couch. Bucky kissed down your neck, licking over the shell of your ear, and sucking at the center of your throat. He reached down and slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up and down your waist before gliding up and lifting your shirt over your head, discarding it with his.

Bucky wasted no time reaching around you and unclipping your bra and dragging it down your shoulders. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them with his large hands before bringing you into another tender kiss. Despite your frantic movements, there was a spark of passion cracking through the air, the both of you desperate to feel each other closer.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily and resting your forehead against his.

“I wanna make love to you, y/n, please, let me make love to you,” he groaned with a slight whine in his voice. He sounded like he was about to crack.

“Please, Bucky.”

You leaned back on your hands and lifted your hips, giving Bucky the room to pull down your shorts and panties in a few swift tugs. He quickly got up on his knees and pulled down his sweats and boxers, sitting back down and tugging them off his legs. You reached your arms forward, Bucky grabbing a hold of your wrists and pulling you back to straddle him again. You gasped at the feeling of his cock under your bare pussy, your wetness from all the grinding and kissing making you slide over him.

You leaned forwards, capturing his lips between yours and raising yourself up on your knees. Reaching under yourself, you gripped his cock, wet with your arousal, and lined him up with your cunt. Bucky gripped your hips as you sank down on him, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from rutting up into you. You stayed like that for a second, adjusting to the way he filled you. Seeing the remote lying on the floor, you grabbed it and slightly turned up the volume, only enough so that you and Bucky could hear the actress in the video being ravished by her co-star.

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you began to slowly move up and down over him, riding him just as you had told him you liked to watch. His hands moved up from your waist, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You let out a hiss as he rolled them between his fore finger and his thumb, tugging on and rubbing his thumbs over them. He reached around to grab your ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks and you used him to pleasure yourself.

You were a moaning mess over him and he wasn’t much different. The room was filled with the sounds of the porn playing on the TV mixed with the sounds of your own cries of pleasure. If the neighbors hadn’t been woken up by the TV, they sure were by you two.

Bucky sat back on his knees, his hands slid down to your thighs, moving your legs from under them and wrapping your legs around his back. His arms worked their way back up to wrap around your waist, bringing you ever so close. The new angle pushed him even deeper up into you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, giving you access to all the sweet, desperate sounds falling from his lips.

You were now pushing up with your feet behind him, rolling your hips over his. The new technique made your clit rub over his pelvis, the sensation making you throw your head back and let out a deep moan. He took the opportunity to continue kissing your neck, going lower with every lick and bite. He sucked at your collarbone, leaving a deep purple mark in its place.

Suddenly, he was using his arms to lift you up, not pulling out of you, and laying you down on the blanket-covered floor. You instinctively locked your ankles together, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you. Bucky had his metal arm holding himself up while his flesh one squeezed your breasts, feeling them move with his thrusts. He lowered his head to your chest and licked one of your nipples, grazing his teeth over it before taking it in between his lips and sucking. Your hands flew to the back of his head, singing praises as you wove your fingers into his hair. He continued to alternate between your breasts, leaving love bites around them and sucking on their sensitive peaks.

You could feel your body buzz with anticipation, you were so close. The moans escaping your mouth were lewd and uncontrolled. Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around your waist, lifting your chest flush against his.

You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Nothing felt better than making love with Bucky felt. This was definitely not the first time you two had been intimate, but none of those previous times had ever been like this. You could feel the passion flowing through his body into yours. You looked up at his form over you, how beautiful he looked with the light of the TV screen glistening against the beads of sweat on his forehead. There was absolutely nothing in the world compared to having him, in all his beauty, to yourself like this.

Bucky’s heart was exploding in his chest. What had started out as an embarrassing, nightmare-fueled night had turned into the most intimate experience he ever had in his life. Love was already established in your relationship, but Bucky had never truly made love to you. He looked down in awe at your disheveled state, at the way your hair was sticking to your forehead, at the way the only light in the room gave you an angelic glow. He wanted nothing more than to give himself completely to you, to make you come all over him.

He leaned his forehead against yours, pushing his face forward once every few seconds to kiss you. He was close, and he wanted you to come with him. He leaned into you even more, his cheek pressed against yours, his lips next to your ear.

“I love you so much, y/n, God, you feel so good. I love you, I love you,” Bucky’s voice was deep and strained, his words being emphasized by each push into your wet pussy. You let out another loud moan.

“I love you, James,” you whined as he hit your sweet spot, “I love you so much.”

Bucky’s hand wedged itself in between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit and gently rubbing it. You were completely overwhelmed, this is what it felt like to make love to someone. Your body began to shake and your breathing became erratic. Bucky thrusted harder, working to push you over the edge.

“I want you to come in me, Bucky,” you gasped as his thrusts got faster and lost their rhythm.

Your mouth turned open in a silent scream as you came. Bucky felt your walls clench around him, squeezing the life out of him. He let out a shaky groan as he fell over the edge. His eyes shut tight and his body tensed as he spilled into you.

Wrapping his metal arm around your back and securing your body to his, he rolled on his flesh shoulder onto his back. You went limp against him, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow down. He was still buried within you, connected to you. Letting your eyelids fall shut, you savored the feeling of being full of him and his love.

You lifted your head to kiss his jaw.

“I’m glad you called me, Bucky. I love you.”

“I am too, doll. I love you more.”

[buckyhoney-library]

nsfw alphabet, b.b

A/N: so sorry it took so long! hope you enjoy! sebastians & nomad!steve should be out sometime this week(end)!

reblogs/likes/feedback are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

However, do NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics on my blog!

Warnings: 18+, language, smutty thoughts, sorry for any missed typos!

chris evans nsfw alphabet

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex)

bucky takes aftercare so seriously! he makes sure that you have everything that you need and you're taken care of first. showering you in praises, holding you close, getting you water or snacks- he is at your beck and call.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part on themselves and on their partner)

thighs. thighs. thighs. He loves laying between them with his head resting on your stomach. His fingers tracing patterns on your skin- peppering kisses on the inside. bucky's arms are hooked around them while he is giving you head, rubbing small circles on the outside.

bucky has grown to love his vibranium arm, because of how much you love it. he has changed arm usage from a weapon to a useful tool in every situation. being able to cool it and playing with temperatures, pinning you down- making sure you go nowhere- or even being able to cause it to vibrate.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

he loves to paint with his cum. as much as he LOVES to cum inside you and make you hold it- there is something so pretty with his cum plastered on your back or on your tummy. "you look so pretty with my cum on your thighs," bucky is especially fond of watching it drip down your breasts or leak down your thighs. bucky just stares in awe of how it glistens against your skin.

D = Dirty Secret (What do they secretly want)

he wants you to praise him. bucky lives off of praise and when you whimper how good he's making you feel or how he's such a good boy? it throws him over the edge, encouraging him to go faster and harder. he'll never ask for them, but when you start hyping him up, fuck he enters a state of nirvana.

E = Experience (Do they know what they are doing?)

1940's bucky as we all know was very experienced but after eighty years of nothing? he needs a little help regaining his confidence, but man will he practice and have no problems asking for help. he'd be a little embarrassed of cumming early or not being able to satisfy like he used too, but bucky watches porn and experiments like no tomorrow, catching up on all the new toys/techniques/positions etc.

F = Favorite Position (Self-explanatory)

bucky's favorite position would be cowgirl or where you're laying on your side, so he could hold you. cowgirl because he gets the perfect view of your body and everything about it.

with an honorable mention of missionary- but missionary with your legs in the air spread for all can see. if he's feeling a little spicy, he'll press on your lower abdomen, adding extra pressure.

G = Goofy (Are they serious during sex or goofy

BOTH. There is a time and a place for serious, rough, passionate sex (and boy does he enjoy that), but for the most part, Bucky wants you to feel good and he wants to learn- which means there will be some mishaps and failed moments, but he loves those moments just the same.

H = Hair (Are they well-groomed?)

he is well kept and clean. bucky isn't hairless, but he does make sure that everything is trimmed up and clean.

J = Jack Off (Do they masturbate?)

bucky only does when you're away or he's gone for a mission. when you're home, he has no problem telling you he's in the mood. when he does masturbate, it is to your pictures/videos you've sent or through facetime/phone calls. he doesn't watch porn unless that is the only option or he is looking for new things to try with you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

oh boy does he have loads of kinks! bucky loves praise (receiving or giving)! during the more passionate and rough sessions, he is into degrading (but not too crazy) innocence kink. if you have met after his second sexual awakening? god, how he loves to ruin you. he loves the idea that he gets to teach you and that you're at his mercy. ice play/warming (idk what the word is) he loves when you call him sarg does this man have a filthy sarcastic mouth. dirty remarks of comments that leave his mouth- god, it's enough to you off in seconds.

L = Location (Favorite place to do it)

he is a traditional man at heart, so he loves the bedroom. bucky gets to be as loud as chooses and go as long as he wants without the fear of someone walking in or interrupting.

M = Motivation (What turns them on or gets them going?)

leggings. jeans. short shorts- anything that enhances your thighs or when you shoot back firey/witty comments matching his energy. The more traditional turn on's as well, suggestive comments, touching his chest letting it fall to his belt, lingering kisses on his lips and neck. "it's like you're begging me to fuck you silly,"

N = No (Something they will not do. Turnoffs.)

nothing with bodily fluids (other than saliva or cum) & i don't think he'd be fond of being too open in public- he's a private guy, but he doesn't mind the simple pda and light touches.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc.)

okay let me tell you- bucky loves getting head. your lips make him cum faster than anything else. "open wide, darling" he loves the ability to do it virtually anywhere (privately of course) and the quick clean up-but he mostly loves watching you take his length completely, hitting the back of your throat. "fuck, such a good girl taking all of me," hearing you moan into him and gag makes him go FERAL. bucky isn't a head pusher, but he does grip your hair.

bucky does love going down on you too. his cock throbs at the sight of your legs shaking and squirming. the sounds you make encourage him more, but he doesn't stop when you cum- he licks up every last drop of you. "im not stopping, so i'd stop moving if i were you," he'll occasionally pop his head up to make sure that he's doing everything right and you're enjoying yourself- the last thing he wants is for you to fake it (which only happened when he first re-entered the dating world)

P = Pace (Are they fast or rough? Or slow and sensual?)

there is a time and place for everything. bucky loves sensual sex because he feels the most connected to you and he has been without physical/emotional connection for so long that it's become a must. it is also where he feels the most control and the best, when he can be 100% vulnerable- something never thought he could do.

fast and rough is for those needy moments where he can't get his hands off of you- complete feral mode. when you've been teasing him relentlessly and he needs to remind you who's in charge. those nights are when the kinkiest of kinks come to play.

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than regular sex)

quickies are reserved for dinner parties, group outings, etc. where you look too good and he can't keep his hands off of you. "i wanna see if you taste as good as you look". quickies usually consist of fast rough sex that leaves bruises or marks. they also mainly consist of giving/receiving head.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

oh does he! he has almost ninety years of sex trends/toys/etc to catch up on. it will be the middle of the night and you'd be fast asleep only to be woken up by him shaking your arm and going "baby, we have to try this!"

bucky isn't a risk-taker in the sense of public and potentially getting caught, he is a risk-taker in the sense that he is willing to try anything once.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

bub is a super-soldier. his stamina outlasts yours by HOURS. you'd be panting and lying sideways and bucky would be ready for the next round and you'd have to tap out. he would chuckle and hold you, teasing you about how you can't last. "can't handle this cock? i thought you said you could go all night?"

T = Toys (Do they own or use toys on themselves or partners?)

bucky has a whole drawer dedicated to the greatest quality toys. "only the best for you, dollface." he loves seeing how far he can push you with the vibrators. tying the vibrator to your clit and watching you be sent over the moon. bucky wouldn't be too crazy about using toys on himself, but he isn't opposed to being handcuffed (or pegged)

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

BIGGEST TEASE in the galaxy. Touching you, grazing your heat, kissing your neck, rubbing the inside of your thigh, (stuffing a vibrator inside you while you're on the phone), or whispering dirty things in your ear- but God forbid if you tease him back. there will be hell to pay if you try teasing him back. "you better rethink your next move, darling," "i think you forgot who's allowed to tease who."

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

bucky is pretty quiet, with the exceptions of grunts and whimpers. His mouth is filthy and he dirty talks like there is no tomorrow! he is also a cocky little shit and sarcastic- which doesn't stop in the bedroom. "your cunt feel so good around me," "open your eyes, i want you to watch as i ruin you" "look at you, you're soaked for me"

W = Wildcard (Random headcanon for your character)

cockwarming. babe lives for cockwarming. early morning lazy sex, but too lazy to pull out of you. you'd be laying on your side with your leg over his, with his cock buried inside of you. "no, honey, just stay" he would mumble with his head resting in the cook of your neck, placing small kisses on your neck, but falling back asleep.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

baby, that serum did wonders. bucky is packing that seven to eighter. his cock would poke through your tummy and he won't stop talking about it for weeks.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

HIGH. VERY HIGH. he is ready whenever and wherever the time calls.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterward?)

bucky's stamina is so high that he probably is starving. he would perform aftercare for you, but once you'd have cared for- he is standing naked in the kitchen making a sandwich.

[potter-imagines]

Getting Drunk With Fred Weasley

Prompt: getting drunk w/ your boyfriend Fred would include + mini blurbs

Warning: drinking, swearing, and some suggestive wording

Word Count: 2.2k

Notes: n/a

Parties are not an uncommon event in the Gryffindor common room

Alcohol and drink mixtures of all sorts are being poured left and right every weekend

Most weekend you have a drink or two while catching up with your friends after a busy week of school

Other weekends you choose the path of getting plastered alongside your boyfriend off smuggled liquor and bottle of beer

On these night in particular, 

Fred does not let you out of his sight

At all

Unless of course Lee challenges him to a beer pong match then he’ll carefully usher you over the couch where he can keep an eye on you while he’s playing

Has to pause the match like 20 times to chase after you and lead you over to his side “Y/n! You know you can’t out drink Seamus- he’s Irish! C’mon, come watch me kick George and Lee’s ass. They’re so bad it takes two of them to even manage a winning shot yet somehow they still suck!”

Loves it when you cheer him on

Is constantly glancing over to reassure himself you haven’t run off again

Your distraction is heightened in this state

So he feels the need to be your second set of eyes

Which had come in handy many a times

Like when Ron dared you to touch the burning fire while he was wasted on dragon barrel brandy

“Don’t be a pussy, Y/n. Swipe your hand real fast and you won’t even feel a thing-” “Y/n, pull your hand away from that fire, love. Ron, what the fuck? Are you trying to set my girlfriend up in flames? Angel, Ron is an idiot, you know that, don’t do anything he says again.” “Hey!”

And the time when you all were playing strip poker and Fred quite literally threw himself on top of your body to cover your chest when George teased you to take your bra off and your hands reached back for the clasps

(( he bitched at George for five minutes straight for that suggestion ))

Fred knew you were not one to back down from a challenge, especially when drunk and not considering the consequences or regret that would follow

So he always made sure you never embarrassed yourself too much or did anything you’d be wanting to take back come morning

During any Gryffindor party, Fred is the life of it

When he’s not preoccupied fawning over you, he’s hopping around with George seeking out trouble

The man throws back liquor like its water

Claims he knows his limits, but he really doesn’t

He is a touchy drunk

Hands brushing through your hair as you chat on the couch

Arms wrapped around your shoulder as you laugh along with your friends

Fingers laced in yours whenever you’re near

He craves your touch even more so when the liquor taints his veins

Let’s be real, Fred is not exactly the type of boyfriend to try to get you to stop drinking

He still makes sure you’re safe and not over drinking but,

Most of the times,

He’s the one pouring the shots for you

And mixing the drinks

But he always knows when to stop, and when you’ve had enough to drink

He tries to mentally keep note of how many drinks you've had but loses track once he reaches about five on his own end

Sometimes he’ll silently swap out your glass of whiskey for a glass of pumpkin juice

It’s obvious to Fred that he made the right choice when he watched as you sipped gleefully on the juice, not making a single comment on the dramatic change in taste

In these moments he begins to prepare himself for a night of babysitting you

And he’s so sweet in helping you on the nights when you go an inch- or ten- overboard

Carries you up to your bed and helps you change out of your clothes and into new ones for bed

He gets you wipes to take of your makeup, if you’re wearing any, and he’ll sit you between his legs on your bed while he brushes through your hair

After you’re properly ready for bed, Fred makes sure to set a glass of water on your nightstand incase you get thirsty and a bag of crackers if you get hungry

Stays the night without question when you ask

Other times he stays regardless of if you do or don’t

Your roommates don’t mind seeing as he takes care of you meaning they don’t have to

He’ll lay on his back and usher you over to place you head on his chest

His fingertips will soothingly trail up and down you back, lulling you into a deep sleep with the rhythmic motion

Tries his best to make sure you fall asleep first

Drunk Fred really has no control over his sleep habits and has a tendency to pass out from sudden exhaustion at any moment

One second him and George are fucking around with partygoers, supply them with different products of theirs, and causing pure chaos

The next second Fred was snoozing away while he laid on the couch with his head in your lap

Then he was back up an going again

Like a toddler on a sugar high

He’s such a giggly drunk

Kisses to the tip of your nose

Always smiling over at you and complimenting you  

“Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?” “Only ten times, but I’m okay with elven.” “Let’s make it twelve, you looks absolutely stunning- so pretty, and all mine.”

The boy can’t help it, you make him feel weightless with happiness sober and the feeling only intensifies when he’s been drinking

There are nights when Fred can’t seem to taste the scorching burn of the liquor anymore after about six shots and it these nights where George and yourself are left dragging him up the stairs

George will beg you to stay the night because he can’t handle Fred’s drunken rambling about how much he misses you

And you agree because, how could you say no to Fred’s adorable puppy dog eyes and grabby hands longing for you to cuddle with him

If you two are both drunk, you’ll stay up talking- or rather whispering- under his comforter

He’ll stumble over his words and jumps from topic to topic in the blink of an eye

Uncontrollable giggles as he whispers- or rather stutters- out the most confusing jokes you’ve ever heard

Like

“Angel, angel…” “Yes, Freddie?” “What happens when a toad’s car breaks down?” “I dunno…” “It gets froged!” “I’m sorry, come again? Isn’t it meant to be the frog’s car that breaks down and it gets ‘toad’...not ‘froged’?”

But he’s out like a light before you can get an explanation

He breathes like darth vader when he’s in his drunken slumber

Yet its somehow comforting in an odd way

Like it reminds you that he’s there holding you

And also that he’s still alive, which is surprising at times with the amount of drinks he consumes in one night

If you think Fred acts reckless sober, he thinks he’s invincible when he’s drunk which is even worse

He’ll agree to almost anything

If Ron were to tell him he bet Fred wouldn’t jump from the Astrology Tower all the way down to the courtyard? Fred would do it just in spite of him

The only time this attitude of his had gotten him into trouble was when Fred, George and Lee came up with the grand idea to go down the boy’s dormitory staircase on mattresses

Fred, being the brilliant man he is, decided to go first

You had been gossiping away in the common room to Hermione about a new Muggle actor the two of you had seen in a film when you heard the loud crashing, followed by the voice you loved so much groaning in agony

By the time you reached the opening to the stairwell, George and Lee were aiding Fred down the stone steps, carefully avoiding his ankle which had been twisted in an inhuman position

Madam Pomfrey surprisingly kept hum about Fred’s intoxication and instead scolded him for hours on end about his reckless, mindless choice to try to slide down, winding, steep, stone steps

Once news reached the professors the nest morning, McGoagall dismissed 40 points from Gryffindor for the incident

Using your mattress to surf down the twirling stairwell has since been prohibited

On a separate occasion Fred had accident lit the edge of the curtain on fire

You can always tell when he’s reached that level by the volume in his tone

It tends to get deeper the more intoxicated he becomes

And his words slowly slur together into a string of blabber

Mostly compliments, sweet words, and sometimes suggestive ones as well

Fred gets a bit more… forward when he’s got that liquid courage soaring through him

His hands will start to roam slowly from around your waist to your lower back, then resting on your bum

He gets turned on watching you play beer pong for some reason

Especially when you win

Maybe it’s the view he’s graced with when you bend to bounce the pin pong ball

Or the feistiness that arises when the match gets hot

It’s more than enticing for him

Fred can feel his frame get stiffer everytime you bend across the table to retrieve the cup and chug the beer from it

When the round has ceased and you’re declared champion yet again, Fred steps forward to pull you in for a hug

As he gives you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers, 

“Good girl! Now if you beat George again I’ll give you a special surprise later tonight, angel.”

Which makes your knees weak like jell-o as your frame pushes into his for support

It doesn’t help that you can feel just how excited he is through the denim of his jeans

Fred dips his head to plant a trail of wet, teasing kisses along the skin of your warm neck until George was groaning and pleading for you to start the match

You practically shook for the entirety of the game, still managing to sink almost every shot into a cup forcing George to drink for the majority of it

He ended up tapping out once you nailed the seventh cup in a row and kept your winning streak alive due to his need to find a trash can immediately

You stopped there to join Fred by his side as he smiled to you, clearly pleased that you won

“Looks like someone is getting rewarded tonight.”

His arm draped around your shoulder as you leaned into his side, your cheeks flaring from the mass of bodies but mostly from Fred’s suggestive promise

He only forced you to suffer through the party for another ten minutes or so before pouring one last shot for the both of you, then nearly pushing you up the winding stairs to his dorm

Lets just say he certainly fulfilled on his promise- more than once that night

Loves it when you sit in his lap when you’re on the couch together

Whispers dirty secrets into your ear

Drunk Fred leaves hickies under the clothes

He’s not the type to care who’s around, he’ll try to slide his hand up your skirt in front of nearly anyone when he’s inebriated

“Fred- you’re brother is sitting right there, stop it!” “Shhhh, angel. He’s not even watching, right George?” “Right, Fred.” “See?”

To which you glare dangerous at him as you place his hand back in his lap, but Fred continues to smirk in amusement

It’s like you’re a preschool teacher constantly having to tell a child to keep their hands to themselves, Fred just refuses to listen

Fred doesn’t necessarily get jealous of other guys

He trusts you and he’s confident enough in your relationship not to feel threatened by other guys

However he is possessive af over you when he’s been drinking

In a sweet way tho

Literally wants all your time and attention when he’s drunk

If you don’t feel like dancing, he’ll ask you to come watch him dance

When you say you need to use the bathroom, he’ll ask a million times if you want him to come with

If George places a bet against Fred in a game of cards, Fred will drag you over to sit next to him as Seamus shuffles the deck and prepares the table

He’ll show you his cards and tell you to pick one

Even though he knows you’re completely unaware of the rules to the game, he loves the smile of excitement that appears on your face when he lets you

And in the rare times that you do say no, he works his magic with those big doe eyes and pouty lip until you say yes

It brings him comfort when you’re by his side

Your nights end the same each day, wrapped in his arms listening to the relaxing thump of his heart as the two of you doze off, both silently dreading the awaiting hangover than would surely greet you first thing in the morning, but you wouldn’t want it any other way