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some-bunniii · 8 months

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Lucifer confessing to an artist reader

・❥ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you

x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!

warnings: Mild swearing

“Mreow?”

You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.

“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.

“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.

A high-pitched chirp answered your question.

Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room.

You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.

Now where was that furball?

You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call.

“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.

You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place.

You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent.

As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you.

You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep.

Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.

It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips.

Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated.

Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky.

“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.”

He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand.

You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath.

“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.

After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks.

Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.

“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”

You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape.

“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”

You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine.

That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.

The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.

Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough.

Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.

Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold.

Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it.

Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.

Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet.

‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’

He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.

Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.

“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.

He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”

“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.

“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”

That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.

But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying.

It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.

Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.

The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.

Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV.

What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting?

You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.

Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care?

Your love?

He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore.

There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move.

‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’

Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose.

Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him.

‘Soon’, you promised.

The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss.

A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.

Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day.

“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room.

She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.

Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.

You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.

“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.

“Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh.

“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.”

Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch.

They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.

“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean.

“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.”

Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.

His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.

“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!”

He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop.

Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles.

“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?”

“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”

A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.

“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject.

Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.

“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”

“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.”

“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”

You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?

It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?

Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.

He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you.

Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.

“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.”

Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to?

“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”

Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.

“Well.. I don’t know if-”

“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you.

Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.

You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised.

You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder.

You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.

Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.

“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm.

“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though.

“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”

“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded.

“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.”

He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him.

“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.

Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure.

Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?

Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.

Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.

“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to

think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.”

“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question.

“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”

Admiration?

Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.

“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”

“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”

You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.

“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”

Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination.

“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”

“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”

Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.

“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?”

Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.

“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”

“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.

He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly.

It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage.

“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.

Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red.

You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you.

“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.”

“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air.

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”

“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”

You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?

“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”

“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”

What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to?

“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers.

Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.

Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.

He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you.

“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.

You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.

Where were you now?!

You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs.

“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer.

Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.

It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.

He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.

It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.

Did he learn it… just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?

It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.

And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.

“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.

He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his.

Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.

This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.

You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.

Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you.

Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this

time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.

Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?

Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.

“Lucifer, what are you…” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.

With treasures untold and riches divine,

I offer you the world, to make you mine.

His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.

I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,

Mountains of riches, for you to behold,

Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,

With every breath, with every sigh,

I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.

His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.

You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response.

In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man.

Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more.

I don’t want your magic,

I don’t want your gold,

I want your eyes on me,

Until we grow old,

The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals.

His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before.

A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.

You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful.

Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.

Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.

For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.

Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.

Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him. Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.

Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.

Your caring touch abundantly clear,

It’s all i’ve ever known,

With you my dear,

I surely fear,

My heart will never be my own.

As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch.

Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled.

With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.

“Darling, I-”

Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.

His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell.

Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms.

He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely.

His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.

You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.

“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.

Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.

You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.

Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.

“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.

“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.

“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”

“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.”

His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.

“Go.”

“Fine.”

You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly.

You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”

He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground.

A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.

“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away.

“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby.

“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”

Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”

He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation.

“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”

He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.

“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.

You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.

Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise.

“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.

Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.

“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”

You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips.

KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.

“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.”

Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.

——

a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?

tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #i’m tired y’all i’m taking a nap #im writing this fic like im getting paid for it 🤣#over 6k words too?!#hazbin hotel

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

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last set of tsumsitter ssr groovies 👀

THE TIME HAS COME

First is Pomefiore!! (Edit: The initial version of this Groovy is on the left; Rook is missing the golden Pomefiore markings on his robes. There was an update to fix this. The updated version is on the right.)

The trio is framed by a border of colorful lights, which reminds me a lot of old-fashioned movie theater signs (though not as colorful). If you look closely at the top and bottom, it seems they are posed for a candid photograph and it’s being posted to Magicam or something?? Rook and Epel look super crisp here, which I love!! I think Epel is posing with his hands held behind his back. This paired with his smile and the slight bird’s eye view of his face makes him look super cute please don’t beat me up for saying that, Epel. And Rook is being showy and familiar as usual, even putting one hand on Vil’s shoulder. Vil isn’t cringing or uncomfortable with it, which goes to show that he and Rook are truly good friends.

As for Vil, it’s rare to see him posed casually like this. Most of his cards feature him posed in very “model”-like and mature ways, so to have just one hand on hip, leaning forward slightly, and gripping his grimoire is unique for him (I mostly associate this pose with Ace, lol). His smile is quite casual too—it’s not quite the full catty smirk he has in his live2D model, it’s a lot more subtle and playful.

BahacTeHWWRVwkkwwm YHE VIL TSUM STeALS THE SHOW ThoUGH 😭 (You can tell it’s smiling despite the lack of a visible mouth) from how its eyes!! The placement of the Tsum is also funny. With Pomefiore’s peacock throne in the background, it forms sort of an angelic halo around… the sentient stuffed toy… Proof that Tsum Vil is a heavenly being/j

Next is Ignihyde!!

The Shroud brothers return to Cyberspace, that blue void with tons of ethereal floating screens, particle effects, and code www I don’t know what those three pink balls of flame are in the background, but there being three of them is a consistent theme for Ignihyde. Three pink fireballs, three Shroud brothers, three heads of Cerberus! I wish I could say more here, but I’m basically a Malleus when it comes to tech—

Idia’s pose isn’t anything we haven’t seen before (just at different angles of it, I suppose). But!! It feels different here and adding Ortho definitely adds to it. The Pokémon trainer energy of the initial art carries over to the Groovy. Idia looks like a smug, tough trainer looking down on you with a cocky grin and his face half-shadowed.

Ortho floats almost menacingly next to his big brother, his face entirely shadowed. His aura is like a phantom (fitting) or even like a Pokémon on standby waiting for the chance to fire off a Hyper Beam. This might be me overthinking things, but I wonder if the amount of light on the brothers’ faces references the original Ortho. Robo!Ortho’s face is entirely darkened because his parallel has passed on. Idia’s face is only partially shadowed because while he was close to stepping over to the “other side”, he ultimately found hope and was able to continue living, this time for himself and on his own terms.

I LIKE HoW TSUM IDIA HAS ITS OWN sCREEN TO WORK OFF OF TOO 😭 IBRO IS MAkING A sUS FACE TOO, IT’S GLEEfUL AbOUT WhAtEVRr it’S UP TO… That makes me think that it’s hard at work… I dunno, hacking something systems fnksgwiwozlapaeb Watch out, a Tsum near you might infect your computer and then bounce away happily after ruining all your programs and files.

Last but not least… Diasomnia!! THIS ONE’S MY fAVORITE OF THE SSR TSUMSITTER GROUP, WHICH I WAs NOT EXPecTING AT ALL 🤡

The violet backlight is fantastic—it adds an interesting lighting to the illustration and highlights the green flames and Silver and Sebek’s bright eyes. And speaking of Sebek and Silver, LOOK AT THEM JUST LOOK AT THEM???????? More specifically, Sebek’s arms (they look ultra meaty somehow) and Silver’s whole face(that lopsided smile??? HELLO?????)!! On either side of Malleus like that… Peak bodyguard, I REPEAT, PEAK BODYGUARD

With Lilia bringing up the rear, the three form a perfect squad to surround and to protect their liege. cbsjsbevejwlw I like that Lilia is different than Silver and Sebek; he’s hanging out upside down (as he usually does) and bears a huuuge grin, completely having fun in the moment. (… How does his hat stay on like that when he’s fighting gravity though?)

Up front and center is Malleus of course! He’s wielding his spindle staff like a king might a scepter. This with his fierce face gives the impression of a leader marching into battle with his retainers. You get a real good shot of his teeth and reptilian eyes here which I’m sure the Malleus stans are going feral for right now—and with the limelight shining down on him, he looks almost hopeful for once instead of downtrodden or gloomy.

THE TSUM MALLEUS LOOKS SO FUNKY PLACED tHERE cnsnwveuxvDFsFjqk Just. Cheekily There on Malleus’s shoulder… Because Maleficent and Diablo is a known combination, the image of those two as master and minion comes to mind. Imagine Malleus blasting you with lightning, pausing to listen to his Tsum whispering a suggestion into his ear, and then telling you the Tsum has advised that he blast you with a second strike 💀

Aaaaaah, the Tsumsitter SSR Groovies are some of the best in this game 😭 So glad they’re finally over though, it’s stressful saving rolls for what you know would be a limited event with multiple SSR banners, lol

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 2 years

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Some long, big thoughts on Kazuki, Rei, and being “Fathers.” - SPOILERS!

I really think this episode is when Kazuki and Rei really face the reality that they are Miri’s FATHERS. Like, it finally sunk in.

The lady here uses otou-sama, which is a very formal way to address the two of them, very stuffy. But also very...Japanese. In Japan, it is very commonplace nowadays for little kids to use papa and mama when addressing their parents, but those are still seen as loanwords. They don’t carry the same weight as being referred to, and seen as, FATHERS.

That question and how they would be perceived by others really hit them here. They aren’t just playing house at home anymore, they are out in society and are going to be perceived as this Miri’s fathers. That may also come with the assumption that they are a couple or in a relationship with each other.

They both look uncomfortable here at that realization, but neither one really denies it either. Of course, this daycare is very unwelcoming and the lady far more judgmental than Anna. So that also likely plays a part in how they feel and react here too. The first daycare they go to focused more on the business side of things.

The room is huge, but empty, the walls are colorful, but not bright. Miri is sent off to play with blocks and the lady never directly addresses her or asks for her thoughts on things. Everything about this daycare is unwelcoming and uninviting and unaccepting, so Rei and Kazuki act coldly to this initial realization and the usage of the word FATHER here, seems very fitting.

It’s not a happy, bubbly, childlike, and even fantastical like the word “Papa” is. And the lady interviewing them, was definitely judging them, even before Miri started mentioning some more...suspicious stuff, lol.

Now, when they go to Aozora Daycare, Anna also addresses them using the word father in Japanese, but she goes with otou-san, still formal, but not stuffy and far more common and approachable. It’s still not “Papa” though. She only uses “Papa” when she talks to Miri about Rei and Kazuki.

(In the Japanese she directly addresses Kazuki first by calling him otou-san and then stating that she was asking Miri, not him, haha).

We are met with understanding here, though. Not judgement. The walls of Aozora are filled with children’s art projects, a piano that indicates singing and dancing time as a group, and warm smiles and comfy clothes. Everything that indicates a child-first daycare center.

The whole interview process ends successfully. The daycare views them as suitable parents and Miri got accepted into the school.

And while Rei looks disinterested during this entire interview. He was paying just as close attention to everything as Kazuki was, and if watch the high-five scene with a good eye, you can see that Rei actually has his hand up and waiting for Miri’s high-five before Kazuki.He understands her and her flow so well.

The rest is going under a Read More due to length.

Next we see them navigating all the prep work. And even though Rei did fall asleep at one point, we see that they both put in as much effort and energy as they can to get everything right for Miri and her first day of daycare. They both read through the handbook, write her names on things, even Rei did some sewing too. They exhaust themselves out.

They think they make a great first impression on that first day:

But they make a lot of faux pas in the world of Japanese parenthood (specifically in a space that tends to be dominated by motherhood).

Arriving by car = ✘

Wearing suits that aren’t black = ✘

Having Miri wearing clothes that look expensive = ✘

Arriving by car is equated to wealth and money, and even to showing off, as opposed to riding a bike.

Wearing suits that aren’t black is associated with the underbelly side of Japan, men that work in the red light district or with the yakuza. An exception to this would be like, in many places, the entertainment business.

Dressing Miri up in clothes that look expensive plays into the whole “yakuza daughter” vibes, but also makes it so that she stands apart from the other children. It can also make it so that Miri has a difficult time putting the clothes on and off herself, which could take up class time when coming in from play time, getting ready to go home, and etc.

I worked at a juku (cram school) with a daycare. Most of the students I cared for there were native Japanese kids between 2 - 4 years old whose parents were working in America. My boss would often get annoyed when parents would bring their (usually daughters) in wearing fancy shoes that looked pretty, but hurt the child’s feet and were hard for the child to take on and off themself.

Kids around Miri’s age are also shown to be aware of economic and social class on some level as well.

LOS ANGELES, Calif. (Ivanhoe Newswire) -- Rich, poor, middle class. Parents often believe it’s their responsibility to shield their children from economic differences and social class.

But new research shows children as young as five years old are not economically blind. In fact, by the time they reach prekindergarten, kids know the difference.

This group of primary school kids already knows what money can buy.

Combine that with the (thirsty though they were) mothers who probably advised their children to not get on Miri’s bad side because of her dad’s, and her outfits that set her apart, and scenes like this one:

Don’t seem so out-of-place.

When Kazuki and Rei pick Miri up at school, her answer to “How was your first day? Have fun?” being “I dunno yet.’ Set’s off alarm bells - even with Rei.

His brows are furrowed. He knows that something is off and wrong with that statement. They don’t know what they did wrong, and they don’t know how to fix it. Miri gets quieter and sadder and this is the first time they’ve had to actually deal with Miri on a deeper, emotional level.

That feeling like you are failing a child (whether your own, one of your students, or just a child in your care) is such a devasting feeling. This episode expresses it well by having these scenes all take place on the way home from the daycare, when the sun is setting.

Thankfully, Kazuki is open to listening to what Miss Anna has to tell him, and she is so supportive. She doesn’t judge them or treat them like they are incompetent or incapable. She just gives them the push in the right direction, with “insider info” in a way, to get them and Miri acclimated correctly. And Rei and Kazuki jump on it. They love that they’ve found this place with a bunch of good quality cheap shit that can help them and make their lives easier.

And after this, Miri goes to school in regular clothes. Kazuki goes to the play area in the regular clothes, and he is just genuine and authentic with the kids. He doesn’t dress Miri up in a way that sets her apart anymore (on a class level, in a way that makes the other kids think she is “saying” “don’t play with me.”).

Kazuki, especially, isn’t trying to “fake it until he makes it anymore.” He isn’t trying to give the impression that they are rich. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he also felt a bit more pressure to get everything right because he and Rei are two guys raising a kid together - two FATHERS.

But then he realizes letting Miri and him and Rei just be themselves is enough.

This was very much so a Kazuki issue that ended up negatively impacting Miri. A situation I’m sure every parent (or even teacher, like I’ve been before) has experienced on some level. It’s one of the harsher parts of being a parent and trying to help your child and do what’s right.

And now, he and Rei have one foot further into parenthood, since they know about this new shop and:

Gave Miri her own room.

That is such a big deal. Similar in a way to how people say not to name an animal unless you plan on keeping it as a pet. Not because Miri can be compared to a pet or an animal in any way like that, but because of what it implies on both an emotional attachment level and a “she is now a permanent part of our household” level.

That's a fully decorated room, filled with toys and plush dolls and games, a bed, books, a rug, even a desk. A desk filled with stationary supplies for her to learn and something which is viewed as a necessity for children to have at home when they are in elementary and junior high school (especially).

Rei and Kazuki have gone from being Miri’s “Papas” on a sort of imaginary, “playing house” level, with very limited outside and real-world/societal interactions to being her fathers. They have integrated her and themselves as her parents and fathers into society on a large level now.

By investing in that room, they are investing in Miri, and are openly choosing to be viewed as her fathers - as partners. Even if they don’t necessarily view each other in that way, it doesn’t matter to them in the end, because Miri is what’s most important.

(Note: I will link to the news article and report that stated that information about children and economic class recognition in the comments).

#Buddy Daddies #KazuRei #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Miri Unasaka #Anna Hanyu #Buddy Daddies spoilers #BD spoilers #long post #image heavy post #meta post #thought post #feel free to add your thoughts to this as well!

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omen-of-ice · 9 months

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DEMO || FAQ || PINTEREST

The North has been all that you’ve known your whole life— residing within its icy landscape as part of House Eirlys; Wardens of the North. You’ve never thought you’d one day leave to head south to Vela’thian— the kingdom of the elvhen— much less that you’d head there due to your betrothal with the king himself.

What will await you once you arrive? Is everything as it seems? Or is there something more brewing beneath the surface of the seemingly pristine nation?

Will you find your way back home? Or will you find something, or someone, worth staying for?

Let’s see how your story unfolds…

❄️ Play as the youngest heir to House Eirlys that’s been arranged to be married to the Elven King. Explore the wondrous world of Arlatha and the great elven nation of Vela’thian and its capital Ilyransari! You’ll meet a variety of characters, uncover plots (varying levels of angst), and potentially find love along the way! This game is rated 18+ for depictions of explicit language, alcohol consumption, potential sexual content, violence/blood, and death.

❄️ Customizable MC: name, gender, appearance, sexuality, hobbies, and some skills. (You can choose to not be attracted to men and tell Daeron, the king, this, don’t worry.)

❄️ Bond with your Lycana— a winged wolf that’ll stay with you until death. Customizable: name, gender, and fur color.

❄️ Explore Ilyransari and learn more about the fantastical world of Arlatha!

❄️ Meet a variety of characters— from reclusive dwarves to hotheaded goblins— that’ll bring unique experiences throughout your story.

❄️ Learn more about your own shrouded past and how you came to be where you are now. Will the truth finally set you free?

❄️ Keep in contact with your older brother— Kaladin. He’ll want to know how you’re doing.

❄️ Romance one of characters from your potential betrothed himself— the Elven King— to an orc commander that takes everything a bit too literally or a creature from the depths of the Vesperion Sea. Or maybe someone else will catch your eye.

❄️ Remember, above all else, to have fun!

Daeron [M] — The King — High Elf

The Elven King himself, a man known far and wide for his prowess in battle and resilience in the face of almost insurmountable odds. You’re not sure why he chose you to be his betrothed— after all he must have received hundreds of requests over the years— but you were instructed to not look a gift horse in the mouth; not when an ally like him would help your family and people immeasurably. With a hardened exterior, from years of battle and sacrifice, Daeron isn’t someone that’s easily accessible in the emotional sense, but you can’t help but notice how his eyes begin to soften every time you enter the room. Will something real begin to grow between you?

Daeron stands at around 6’3” (190.5 cm) with a warm beige complexion. Raven black hair falls across his forehead in gentle curls, a delicately crafted crown always situated atop them. His golden eyes, that seem to rival the sun in brilliance, are filled with a cunning intelligence; he has a toned physique, still holding a lithe quality that all elvhen seem to possess.

Larak [M] — The Commander — Orc

Seeing an Orc within Vela’thian is like seeing a starless night; it happens, but it doesn’t make it any less of an odd occurrence. Not after centuries of war between the Elven Nation and the Infernal Plains. Larak, however, seems to have taken his position in stride, ignoring all the looks he receives without a backward glance. After all, what is an orc to do without his clan? Especially one that was well on his way to becoming a chieftain of his own? Will you give him a reason to stay?

Larak stands at around 7’2” (218.44 cm) with a green complexion. Dark auburn locks are shaved on either side of his head, while the rest is kept in a long ponytail that falls down his back. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and brute strength— his most prominent feature, barring his sharp canines, being the twin scars running down his chest that pairs well with the one through his left eyebrow.

Calypso [F] — The Wanderer — Siren

The Vesperion Sea is an anomaly to most within Arlatha; for a creature from its watery depths to appear means one of two things. 1.) Something bad is about to happen. or 2.) It’s a pilgrimage of sorts that a few depth-striders take up every other decade. Meeting Calypso it’s easy to tell which one she is; her general amazement at the world around her being something that’d warm even the most hardened of hearts. With a desire to learn, and an aptitude to do so, she tries to take everything in stride, observing Vela’thian, and it’s inhabitants, with an ardent fervor that would be quite off putting in any other circumstance. Will you uncover things together?

Calypso stands at around 5’1” (154.94 cm) with a dark brown complexion— iridescent blue scales intercepting the expanse of it across her forearms, collarbone, and sparsely across her legs. The sea green of her gaze complements the deep royal blue of her hair beautifully— the voluminous curls falling down to just beneath her shoulders. She has an hourglass figure.

Shanaera [F] — The Spymaster — Dark Fae

The Royal Spymaster within Vela’thian, Shanaera is the longtime friend, and closest advisor, to Daeron. There isn’t much information about the early life of Shanaera— something she’s gone to great lengths to keep that way— and she’s rarely seen enough by the general populace to get a concrete opinion on. Keeping to the shadows, only appearing in court once in a blue moon, and with walls of ice surrounding her, it’s unsurprising why she has the reputation she does. A woman that’s just as deadly with her words as she is with any blade or poison— getting on her bad side isn’t a smart idea… But is it even possible to get on her good one?

Shanaera stands at around 5’11” (180.34 cm) with a sun-kissed complexion. Locks reminiscent of woven sunlight falls down to her hips in a cascade of gentle waves and soft curls— the strands bringing out the luminescent quality of her amethyst colored gaze. Grand wings of iridescent black are situated on her back, giving her elegantly slender body a broader appearance.

Fáelán [M/F] — The Best Friend — Wildling

You met Fáelán when you were ten years old during a winter ride with your family— something you had done dozens of times before— coming across their slight form underneath a snow drift, after your horse almost trampled them, wasn’t something you had been anticipating, but they haven’t left your side ever since. Not even when they had been offered an escort back to the village deep within The Thaeg; an ancient forest that covers over half of The North. You were best friends from that day onward— one never seen without the other. After all of that, should you truly be all that surprised when your self-appointed guard decides to come along to Vela’thian?

Fáelán stands at around 5’8” (172.72 cm) with a light gray complexion. Strands of hair, the color of which reminds you of freshly fallen snow, fall down to just beneath their shoulders in messy waves— usually kept in a intricate braid— pairs well with the deep crimson of their gaze. Their toned body is a far-cry from the scrawny individual they had been when you first met them— an intricate tattoo making a home on their right arm.

Valerian [M/F] — The Exiled Heir — Draconian

Tales of the land across the Vesperion Sea tell of the grand opulence of Edras— home of the draconian; dragon-kin. Valerian isn’t exactly who you’re expecting when imagining the royal family of Edras, but at the same time they seem to fit right in. With a smile that never reaches their eyes fully, a voice that never has to raise to be heard, and a presence that could command a legion, they bring a slew of questions and very little answers. Why were they cast out? Why are they in Vela’thian? And why do they seem to always find themself in your company? Will you be able to uncover any of these answers?

Valerian stands at around 6’6” (198.12 cm) with a fair complexion. Crystalline blue eyes seemingly burn with a fiery intensity— despite their icy coldness— which brings out the argent quality of their silver locks; M!Valerian keeping them down to his shoulders and F!Valerian keeping hers to her mid-back.

#omen of ice #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interact if #no demo #high fantasy #dashingdon #hosted games #choice of games

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sunmoon-starfactory · 9 months

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Loads o' Laundry 2.0

2 years after the release of Loads o' Laundry, we now present: Loads o' Laundry 2.0: a much-improved version of the Laundry mod and system!

Several gameplay features have been improved and many annoyances bigger and smaller have been resolved! A large number of new objects have also been added for your enjoyment. Sims 3 and 4 players may see some familiar things... Overall, it represents a marked improvement over the original version.

Furthermore, the Laundry Mod now comes with full language support for Dutch, French and European Portuguese with more coming soon... Edit: Polish has been added!

Before proceeding further, make sure you have the following requirements installed:

Requirements

Easy Lot Check

Easy Inventory Check

Smarter EP Check

Money Globals

Time-out Controller

Fetch Water (water bucket)

Suds 'n Bubbles (for making your own detergent)

Flowing Fabrics (for the fresh outfit)

Various master meshes (see Manual)

A more detailed list of requirements as well as detailed instructions can be found in the Manual.

Gameplay overview and Download links below the cut

Gameplay Overview

Your Sims will now generate laundry if their hygiene is low enough. This requires the Laundry Global Mod (offered separately from the objects) as well as a Laundry-related object being present on the lot.

Sims may store their laundry in a hamper. Sometimes automatically if it's close enough and your Sim is inclined to be neat....

Wash and dry your clothes: a variety of both historic and modern, manual and mechanical ways to wash and dry your laundry are included.

Tired of the laundry piling up? Simply place a "Laundry-Begone-Box" on your lot and your Sims will no longer generate laundry!

Laundry Global Mod

The global mod is the backbone of the laundry system. You will need it in order to have your sims produce laundry. As it is a Global Mod, it is in its own rar. The Laundry Mod also has various trait-related features for you to enjoy:

Support for the Nevernude, Neat and Slob trait

Support for the following custom lifestates: Ghost, Mermaid & SkeleBro

NEW: Support for @anachronisims' Nudist trait

NEW: Hamper magic! If your sims are neat enough, they may automatically put their dirty laundry in the hamper (if there's one in the room)

MAC-compatible!

You need to have the file "SunMoon-Laundry_Hamper_Wicker_Round-REQUIRED" in your folder in order for the global mod to work!

Washers, Dryers, Tubs and Lines

Your Sims may wash their laundry using a wide variety of both manual tubs and modern washers. Both of these require detergent to use. Of course, after your laundry has been washed, you can dry them using either a dryer or a line. Just make sure not to hang your laundry outside on a rainy day. Just a small overview of the features offered:

Laundromat mode: run your own laundromat business at home or on a community lot! Sims will actually wash their dirty laundry! Of course, it works for visiting Sims too!

NEW: @anachronisims Big Spender Trait now effects the likelihood of a Sim using a laundromat machine

NEW: Stock your washer or tub with a detergent of your choice; no longer will you need an entire box of detergent for a small load, now one detergent will last multiple loads!

NEW: 2 extra detergents have been added. You can now choose between a Box or Bottle of detergent, Soap Solution or even a Baggy of Soap Nuts!

NEW: The fabulous @jellymeduza has created a fantastic little ceiling rack for drying your laundry

NEW: Many more washers and dryers straight from the Sims 3 and 4

NEW: Modern laundry detergent vendor. You can still access any laundry product still despite its looks.

Custom sounds and animations: not only does laundry come with custom (Sims 4) animations courtesy of @mortia, there are also some custom sounds!

Color Controller

This set also comes with a "Color Controller". This object allows you to choose the look of not only your newly-spawned laundry, but also how the fabric on your drying lines looks like! Use only ONE per lot.

Bonus

Another new feature is the (optional) support for @lazyduchess Laundry token: players with FT installed, have the option of downloading his laundry mod and getting the same slower motive decay for comfort when changing into different clothes using our fresh outfit object. Players without FT and/or this token will get a small bonus to the comfort motive instead. This is NOT available for MAC-users! You will need the following files from his mod should you want this feature:

ld_BecksLaundryMotiveDecayController

ld_BecksLaundryMotiveDecayToken

Download links

Now for what you have all been waiting for: the download links. REMOVE all old files before updating! File names have been changed!

Download Laundry Global Mod (Required) Download Loads o' Laundry (objects) View Manual

Localization

Added support for Dutch

Added support for European Portuguese - Obrigada @logansimmingwolverine!

Added support for French - Merci @helene2troie !

Partial language support for many other languages has been added in the form of catalog descriptions for Sims 3 and 4 conversions. (NOTE: 3t2 conversions have no Simplified Chinese, 4t2 conversions have no Hungarian. None of them have Thai)

Polish, Russian and Brazilian Portuguese support is currently in progress and should hopefully become available sometime in early 2024

Would you like to have this set fully translated into YOUR language? Don't hesistate to make a translation using the localization strings. Just send it over when you're done and we will add it to the set! (send it via or Discord or PM fireflowersims)

Special credits and thanks: @gayars, @2fingerswhiskey, @picknmixsims, @lazyduchess, @jellymeduza, @logansimmingwolverine, Gaby, @hodgekiss, @mustluvcatz-reloaded, CashCraft, ATS/Sandy, EAxis, all the people who helped to localize The Sims 3 and 4, all our many wonderful Beta testers

#ts2 #sun&moon #s2cc #crafting stations #sims 2 #loads o laundry #mod #update #localization

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dira333 · 4 months

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diraaaa mattsun anon here!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️

can i please request something seijoh 4 related for your plot bun game? dealer’s choice. go hog wild. your writing’s gonna be fantastic either way!!

hello mattsun anon! How nice of you to chime in.

This is really hard, because I don't knooooooowwwww....

"Poor Iwa-chan," Oikawa teases, "I bet you'd get a girlfriend too if you tried not looking so scary all the time."

"No no," you disagree, "the girls dig it."

Mattsun snorts. "Which ones? The First-Years just run away all the time when he comes close."

"No, they just run away when they see you," Makki says, kicking your foot with his like he's doing his own version of a low-five.

"Very funny," Iwaizumi drawls, squinting at Oikawa. "And who says I can't get a girlfriend?"

"The fact that you don't have one?"

"At least I'm not just liked for my looks."

"At least I have looks people like me for."

"Guys, guys, you're both pretty," you wave a hand in between them, "but we still need to finish this group project. I'm not letting Tatsumo be first in class this year."

"Just date him," Mattsun drawls out lazily, "isn't he totally in love with you."

You pull a face as Makki snickers. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are still lost in their bickering.

"You know I'm a girl, right?" You ask Iwaizumi on the way home, Makki and Mattun walking ahead of you, Oikawa and his girlfriend a few steps behind.

"Yeah, why?" Iwaizumi musters you under furrowed brows.

"Just checking."

"There are no more chairs," Kindaichi calls out when you enter, "shall I get some more from the basement?"

"No, that would take too long," Oikawa looks like he's been waiting on all of you for hours when it had just been a few minutes. "You can just sit on the floor."

"No way, I don't want to get a UTI," you scan the room, "anyone letting me sit in their lap?"

"I volunteer Iwaizumi," Mattsun hollers.

"Yeah, strongest thighs in all Seijoh," Makki adds and although the ace blushes slightly, he nods, shoulders squared.

"Sit down," Oikawa orders immediately, "I wanna get started. Why do team meetings always take so damn long?"

"You good?" Iwaizumi asks, his mouth next to your ear.

He sounds completely unaffected. You are going to die.

"Would you please become my girlfriend?"

You stare down at the chocolate. Tatsumo went through all the effort of drawing your name on it with colored sugar.

"Sorry, I-" There's a noise that has you look up. Iwaizumi's at the door, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Didn't want to interrupt," he says, turning away. When you reach the door he's already out of sight.

There's no use running after him now, so you turn back, rejection already sitting on your tongue.

"So?" Mattsun settles in the seat on your left. "Did you confess to Iwaizumi?"

"What did he say?" Makki asks, leaning in from your right. "He looked constipated today."

"He walked in on Tatsumo confessing to me."

"Oh." Mattsun nods. "Well, maybe now he'll realize you're a girl."

You close your eyes for a moment.

"It doesn't matter," you tell them when you open your eyes again. "I've decided that I'm not staying in Japan anyway."

"You're leaving us?" Mattsun blinks, clearly surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nod, fiddling with your fingers, "I just need... I just need to get away, you know?"

Your bags are packed and checked in, your passport sits safely in your purse and you've triple-checked that you're at the right Gate.

Nothing can go wrong now on this adventure, you're sure, even if your heart breaks a little.

But surely, on a different continent, in a different timezone, you'll find yourself. Isn't that how it always works?

Someone gets up from one of the chairs. Behind him, you spot a well-known bag, the color unmistakably Seijoh.

"Iwaizumi? What are you... Are you going to California too?"

#my writing #plotbunny game #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!!#dira.asks #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #ask games #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff

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callsignmoth · 3 months

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Water ghoul headcanons based on things I learned in my marine biology class!

- Not all ghouls have the ability to produce milk, however the ones who do are closer in anatomy to cetaceans (whales, dolphins, porpoises) and this often means that they actually don't have nipples the same way other ghouls do, as it's hidden behind a mammary slit.

- The deeper the water ghoul comes from, the weirder their anatomy gets. I don't particularly think water ghouls can come from deep sea unless ??? Idk magic??? Cus at some point having bones isn't gonna be fantastic for you if you get too deep. Another thing is maybe smaller water ghouls. I don't think they'd be able to walk particularly quick or walk at all, deep sea creatures typically don't move quickly unless it's a split second thing.

- Additionally, deep sea ghouls on average would probably have a lack of vision if not total blindness and those who could see would lack full color vision. The deeper you get in the water, colors seem to sort of disappear hence why most bioluminescence appears blue.

- Back to upper waters, I can definitely see some types of water ghouls who live together in packs living similarly to killer whales in the sense that different packs have different cultures and different languages and different ways to hunt. I also think it would be super cool if said hierarchies worked the same, with the oldest female being the matriarch and males either joining or staying since they were calves (a good example of this is a 45 year old male killer whale nicknamed Chainsaw who still lives in the same pod he was born in with his mother and little sister.)

- Some male ghouls may look more femme if they live on the reef in order to trick other male ghouls into letting them breed with females, also they can change colors.

- Actually I think a lot of water ghouls could for sure just change their sex over time, it happens in a lot of different species but I think the most famous may be clownfish.

- Some male water ghouls giving birth the same way male seahorses do, I think that's fun.

- I like the implication the fandom has that Rain is actually a freshwater ghoul or just bull sharks his way between fresh and salt water.

#nameless ghoul #ghost band ghouls #ghost #water ghoul headcanons #ghost band headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons #rain ghoul #chain ghoul #mist ghoulette #lake ghoul #delta ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #water ghouls #ghoul headcanons #ghost bc #headcanons #I FORGOT TO TAG RIVER #river ghoul

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months

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the empire starts noticing that their baby emperor will often be more than a little banged up when he comes to see them in person and they are very worried for their baby, competition to be the imperial physician is fierce but also very stressful for the ones with the position because humans aren't exactly new in space anymore but they're not precisely common either. The position of imperial chef and other positions that concern taking care of the emperor and the imperial consorts is even fiercer.

Previously the empire more or less figured that this mysterious "earth" where their baby emperor makes his primary residence is fairly peaceful and a safe place for him to grow. However, stories finally reach the empire, which started very far from earth and very out of the way of any earth related gossip, about constant invasions that target earth and the general chaos that earth faces on a day to day basis. In hindsight for the empire it makes sense that their baby emperor is from such a dangerous world since he himself is very dangerous despite being so young and adorable. No wonder he's been able to handle their own broken infrastructure and the increasingly large responsibilities that they've put on his little shoulders. There is guilt and there is horror that babies are facing this and, again given their relative condition when they visit the empire in person, obviously they are not being properly cared for.

Finally a delegation from the great Red Bird Empire (robins are an earth species with no equivalent in the empire but there are lots of birds and the color red is known) goes to earth, they arrive in their finest discowing formal fashion to petition the protectors of earth to allow a small group of them to make a base on earth to assist their royal family who has taken refuge on the jl protected planet. They are not there to battle anyone or anything. They are there to make sure their emperor and his consorts are fed, have proper medical attention, and access to an appropriate wardrobe as befits their stations. They might also try to persuade their emperor and his consorts to visit the empire in person more often. While he does a fantastic job of governing from a distance (and at this point Tim has arranged things so he really barely does anything except when a new planet joins and each planet is basically self governing) they miss C4 actually being there.

JL internally freaking out a little because apparently they've had an alien prince? princess? king? goddess? emperor? a royal alien family? somewhere on earth for ages and there could have been a huge diplomatic incident if anything had happen to this royal family, like the family being crushed by a falling building during one of superman's fights, or hit by a tsunami, or earthquake, or even just a stupid speeding car. JL is under the impression that the imperial family on earth fled this empire at some point because of political upheaval and this is a group of imperial loyalists that's only just now gotten enough power to come keep a proper eye on the hidden royals. JL is now worried about alien assassins after the hidden imperial family. At least some part of the JL would like this imperial family to leave earth please.

Based on the delegations costumes, at least one member of the league suspects that the hidden prince of the empire is Dick. This is further supported when the imperial keeper of the wardrobe somehow finds out about Discowing and fawns over Nightwing and goes on about their impeccable fashion sense and how they are revolutionary in the field of haute couture.

Batman may have a small aneurysm when he learns that the alien delegation first thinks to set up in his city. Tim might also panic a little because no, that's too dangerous for them! And instead the Kents suddenly have new neighbors on the farm next door. The Kents are also now on the list of suspected royal family of alien empire even though Ma and Pa are definitely human. Somehow the JL absolutely misses Tim and his life partners visiting the alien delegation and none of the C4 is going to actually admit to anything if they can help it. The delegation is also perfectly happy to keep their mouths shut about the identity of their emperor because it amuses their emperor and also admittedly amuses them. The delegates are frequently rotated with other people who fill their various positions, they set up a schedule, so they can return to the empire and compete to maintain their position as imperial caretaker or end up losing their position to someone else or so they can renew their credentials or even just spend time with their families back in the empire.

Fudge. The choas, miscommunication, and both the delegation and C4 being on board with messing with the JL are precious. Essentially, it turns into various members pointing at each other in suspicion. "Are you the hidden royal family?"

In particular, what do Arthur, Diana, J'onn, and Starfire think about all of this?

I'm also glad the delegation decided to rotate the position on earth. It's like a seasonal job.

I wonder how Ma and Pa Kent feel about their new neighbors. Can they even eat pie?

I'm curious what type of systems Tim sets up for the worlds. It's groovy that he's set the worlds up to be essentially self-sufficient. He probably helps them establish connections, rules, trade routes, etc. for interplanetary trade outside of his empire, but otherwise has set up free healthcare, housing for all, welfare systems, etc.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #ruler of worlds au

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hobiebrownismygod · 11 months

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Why Spiderman-India/Pavitr Prabhakar is one of the best examples of Indian representation I've seen in a long time

Mumbattan

Lets talk about Earth-50101, Mumbattan, Pavitr's home dimension. Mumbattan is displayed as a beautiful, colorful dimension with lots of traffic, lots of people, and lots of culture. When we see Gwen, Miles and Pav swinging through Mumbattan, we see people wearing saris, people driving scootys, Indian-style billboards and even temples in the surroundings. This is an extremely accurate depiction of large Indian cities.

Mumbattan on the left, Mumbai on the right

See how similar these look?

Now compare this to how Hollywood's Slumdog Millionaire movie depicts India.

Every single movie depicting India made by Hollywood portrays India as a country full of slums and dirty people. I have never seen Hollywood portray India as the beautiful, culture-filled country it is, and I have never seen one of the many beautiful temples, or the advanced cities represented in western media until now. Slumdog Millionaire is a fantastic movie, but India isn't only made up of slums.

Hollywood tends to romanticize struggle and when depicting India, makes it seem like a very depressing country. Yes, there are slums in India. Yes, there are people struggling in India. But that doesn't mean that India isn't beautiful. It doesn't mean India is behind. Mumbattan is the first depiction of India I've seen that I feel portrays the beauty and culture of India well. It is a fantastic representation.

2. Pavitr's personality

One of the most recent and most popular Indian representation series right now is the show, Never Have I Ever. In my opinion, this show is terrible. The main character, Devi Vishwakumar, is the stereotype of all stereotypes and doesn't accurately portray most Desi girls. She is rude, selfish, and extremely narcissistic. Her entire personality is being Indian and I find that extremely hard to watch. They make fun of her by addressing stereotypes like an excess of body hair, fashion, and even accents but instead of shutting down these stereotypes, they amplified them by making fun of them.

In western media, Indians are either portrayed as IT workers, scammers, grocery store owners, or nerdy, try-hard teenagers. Every show with an Indian teenager in it portrays them as cheap, unhygienic or unattractive which I, as an Indian, find extremely offensive.

Pavitr is portrayed as an optimistic Indian teenager who's smart and strong, without bragging about it, proud of being Indian without making it his whole personality and genuinely funny. He isn't portrayed as some skinny, nerdy guy with glasses. In fact, he's literally shown flexing his muscles, and performing well in class without going overboard about it. He's so full of culture, I can't even begin to explain it because I'll never stop. His suit, his mask, his webs, the way he moves, the way he fights, its all beautiful and I could watch for days on end without getting bored.

We were finally served an attractive, funny Indian character who isn't a walking stereotype, who loves and embraces his culture and just seems like an awesome guy to be around. Seeing him on screen made me feel so proud, of my religion and my culture. I hope Hollywood takes notes on this and continues providing the media with proper Indian representation and strong Indian role models for characters!

This article explains everything I said a little better, because I know my writing style can be confusing sometimes. It really goes into depth on how impactful it is on Indians to see this kind of representation for the first time in western media and how important this is.

He's so pretty <3 I'm so proud that I look like him

Might go even more in-depth eventually, I just really wanted to get this off my chest because I love him so much 😭

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babyangelsky · 3 months

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There may be something happening with the Colors™ in Love Sea but it's not just that...

This post began life as me wanting to talk about how amazing Peat's styling and wardrobe are and how much sense they make for his character, but as I was watching this week's episode, I noticed something that made me want to switch gears.

Then I went back and watched the preview and the clown in me stirred from its slumber.

But I do also wanna talk about Peat's styling. In episode 1 he arrived on the island looking like this:

He's dressed all in black, he's wearing slacks, dress shoes, and a long-sleeved shirt. In other words, he does not look remotely like someone who knew they were going to a tropical island. The only thing that has any business being on his body are his sunglasses.

But he doesn't stay like that! A few hours later, he arrives at the beach bar looking like this:

He's in sandals, the pants he's wearing look like they're made out of a lightweight fabric, and his top is loose has an open weave.

And this time, he does stay like that. For as long as he's on the island, he's in sandals and either shorts or lightweight pants and his tops are all either very loose and breezy or made from a woven fabric.

He does still wear dark colors but the basic components of his outfits are the same. Why am I harping on this? Because that's the point.

His outfits make sense!

He's on an island! It's hot, he's spending time at the beach and getting sand everywhere and he's DRESSING LIKE IT! He arrived looking he wasn't coming to an island but he packed for an island! He chose clothes that suited his style and that made sense for the environment. He looks expensive and beautiful and COMFORTABLE!

And in a world where we constantly see these poor BL actors sweating out every ounce of fluid in their body because they've been dressed like it's not hotter than the hinges of hell in Thailand, having a character dress like he knows where he is feels like a GIFT. This production is truly making fantastic choices.

Having said all that...

In noticing Tongrak's wardrobe, I noticed something else.

Woven fabric has texture to it and because so many of the tops we've seen Tongrak in are woven, he's always wearing something that's either textured or looks like it has texture. And Mahasamut?

He is always dressed in bright colorful patterns.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

They aren't color coded in the way we've come to know, they're primarily what I'm gonna call fabric coded: textures are Rak's, patterns are Mut's. But they are also color coded in the sense that Rak's textured tops are always a solid color and Mut's tops are always multicolored.

I may very well be wrong, I may very well be proving why I live at the circus but there was a moment in episode 4 that told me that I was on the right track.

Look what Mook chooses when she goes shopping with Vivi.

A WOVEN TOP IN A SOLID COLOR. She picks it because that's what she usually buys for Rak! Because that's the style that he likes!

But then the show went and teased me because we don't actually see what Vivi picked for Mut, the person they were actually shopping for.

THEN THE PREVIEW CAME IN CLUTCH AND GAVE ME THIS

VIVI BOUGHT MUT PATTERNED CLOTHING! The patterns aren't multicolored because he wasn't the one choosing them himself but they're still patterns! We can even go one step further and say that the patterns are in his brand new sugar daddy's colors.

AND WE WILL BECAUSE LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THE BALANCE!

I don't give one singular fuck if Tongrak can admit he's in love or not, THE COLORS AND PATTERNS DON'T LIE AND THIS IS A COLOR AND PATTERN EXCHANGE!

If at any point in this show there is a colorful pattern on Tongrak's body, I am going to lose my mind.

#THE COLORS AND PATTERNS MEAN THINGS #rakmut #love sea #love sea the series

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higgsbison · 2 years

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where can i start reading disc world?

(tl;dr version: Either with Guards!Guards! if you want angry urban fantasy or Wyrd Sisters if you want angry rural fantasy, then follow the list for that sub-series)

Oh anon brace yourself, there are in fact several ways people have big opinions on.

These are mine:

1. My least favorite way is from the start in chronological order

the trouble here is the first few Discworld novels were written as these kinda silly goofy fantasy/dnd parodies that weren't even supposed to be a part of a bigger thing and they honestly aren't that good, especially not compared to later books. That's the way I started and I just dropped the series for a few years cause of it, so I really don't recommend it. The author himself said he wasn't that good of a writer back then which is understandable, cause it was like 40 books ago.

2. What I reccomend is in chronological order based on different sub-series

Discworld novels all happen in the same world, but they follow different groups of characters, so you have several sub-series.

I'll post a list here, but it's pretty confusing so I'll also explain two of my favs below.

City Novels (Watch novels and Industrial Revolution novels)

About a huge, terrible metropolis and the people that help it run, stumble and sometimes trip over the years.

People normally split this into watch novels which follow the city watch and are crime procedurals/adventure books with a ton of social commentary and industrial revolution novels which are about the city speedrunning from medieval to industrial era via several inventions and follow different main characters who are mostly all there against their will.

To me, the main character is the city itself and I super recommend reading these from start to finish in order to see how it changes with time.

starting book: Guards! Guards!

Witches Novels

About three witches doing witch things in a small mountain kingdom, unless they're going on a trip somewhere.

Incredible horrid old lady characters, a lot of exploration of fantasy tropes, some deep emotional beats, very warm human phlosophy and personal responsibility themes.

There's a semi-seperate "YA" series about a younger witch (Tiffany Aching novels), but don't let that fool you, because those hit just as hard as the "adult" ones.

starting book: Wyrd Sisters (technically Equal Rites, but that's also in the awkward early books period for me)

As for the others, the death novels are also very very good, Small Gods is an amazing standalone book and I'd literally just avoid the Rincewind novels until you're already hooked on the series, but they probably have their fans too.

3. Just pick up a random book you see in the library

A tried and tested method a lot of people swear by, most of the books are standalone enough for this to work, BUT my personal opinion is at least the city books should be read in order (especially Night Watch) and there's several less than stellar books you could pick up first by mistake this way (Color of Magic, Light Fantastic, Interesting Times and Faust being the worst imo).

#discworld #this is my personal opinion ofc but imagine your first books was interesting times #everytime someone asks me how to get into discworld i transform into that look how hard i can piss comic

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goodgirlofglory · 1 year

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Hiya doll! 👋 Finals month is still in motion, so I’ve been pretty quiet on the asks. But today I was feeling some sort of way, and I wanted to know if you’re open to this request.

“Bucky with a reader who is insecure about her body”

Basically, I see a lot of representation for plus size girlies on tumblr ( and this is no hate to anyone) but I wish there was also more representation for midsize girlies. Also for girls who are on the taller side, I’m talking 5”7 and up. I’m 5”7 myself, and wearing any shoe that gives me extra inches makes me feel like I tower over my friends or others.

Another thing is, if you do write for this ask, I was thinking that even though reader does have a low self-esteem, she puts on a front and seems like she has a majorrrrrr ego or god complex. So maybe, Bucky see through that, gets her down from there, and fucks her in front of a mirror 🫣🥵

And I oop-

Anyways, regardless to everything, have a fantastic day/night and rest of your week! I appreciate you 💜💜💜

Bestie!!!!🦋

I hope your finals went well!🫶🫶🫶

I am soooo sorry this took so long! It needed to sit with me for a while before I felt I could do it justice, and then life happened in the meantime ya'know.

Anyways I so dearly hope you like this🙏🙏 I resonated a lot with your prompt as a midsize girlie myself and channeled some of my own experience into it (though I have sadly never been fucked in front of a mirror by Bucky Barnes)💖

Anyway, hope you're having a good day or night wherever you are, you are a true gem 🫶✨️🫶✨️🫶

(Also can’t wait to hear what you think of this so lmk😘)

Just perfect / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x secretlyinsecure!taller!midsize!reader

Word count: 7,8k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, SMUT, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, dom!Bucky, unprotected p in v (be safe my sweet darlings), a split second of oral (f receiving), reader is insecure and has some harmful thoughts about her own body.

Summary: A rather dreadful Christmas party at S.H.I.E.L.D takes a turn for the better (and frankly therapeutical) when Bucky Barnes shows you that your self-deprecating thoughts about your body might not be as objective as you thought.

“Mid,” you muttered to yourself as you looked over your outfit one more time in the mirror, fighting down the nagging notion of not feeling entirely satisfied with the reflection. The little, black dress fit you perfectly, hugging your upper body like a second skin before flaring out in the shimmering, silk fabric of the skirt that reached just below your knees. Appropriate for a work party, while the hidden slit in the side of the skirt was just a little something extra cheeky for those who’d pay attention. You doubted anyone would. It fit your persona as a ruthless man repeller perfectly too. No flashy colors, no risque shapes, no cutouts and not too short. No fun either, but that wasn’t important here. The cleavage even appeared modest with the average size of your breasts.

“Fucking mandatory Christmas party,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and left your apartment to head to the Avengers compound for the second time that day. How is it even allowed to make an after hours social event mandatory, you wondered angrily as you got in the waiting cab. You kept adjusting your dress as the city slowly flashed by outside the cab window, second guessing everything about your outfit from the dress to the shoes to the bag to the red lipstick you’d dared yourself to put on, afraid it was too much and too basic at the same time.

You knew it was ridiculous to feel so self conscious about yourself and your body. For all intents and purposes, you were perfectly and quite uninterestingly average, neither plus size nor skinny. You knew your plus size girlies had a way harder time being judged and disrespected for their size, and you didn’t want to be too skinny either, like malnourished. You were perfectly midsize, eating healthy and exercising for your body's sake, eating chocolate and pasta and drinking beer for your mental health’s sake. You were perfectly. average. midsize.

It was just that, the lack of appreciation and attention over the years has slowly chipped away at your confidence, and then your self-image, and then your self-esteem, to a point that it was difficult to even rouse any positive thoughts about yourself that didn’t feel half-hearted or mandatory for the girlboss-affirmation of the day.

The one thing you had going for you, the one thing you felt unequivocally confident about, was your job. Working as one of the high level secretaries for Fury himself, you actually had quite the high seat in the house, with clearance, authority and trust from the big man on top himself. It also meant saying no to quite a lot of things and people on a daily basis, to stop people from charging into the director's office in anger, to be authoritative enough to make people listen and actually do whatever orders you delivered on the director’s behalf (and your own sometimes). The job, which you loved and had worked hard to get, was just a tad challenging to splice with a lack of self-image.

So you’ve built a ruthless, badass, girlboss, gatekeep, gaslight persona for yourself, known for being resistant to all flattery, all bribes, all flirting and all begging. Nothing got past you and everyone seemed just a little afraid of you. It was true, you’d garnered the nickname “the other she-hulk” among your peers. And though you embodied this persona like the most natural thing in the world, it was also a front really, for your honest to God lack of confidence in your everything average.

Oh yeah, except for your height, you realized as you got out of the cab at your destination and was hailed over by the other female colleagues in your department waiting outside the compound - the shoes you wore turned out to give you several inches of height on the other girls, even as they also wore stiletto-like heels. In the height department, you were just above average, which did not make you feel any better necessarily.

Fuck. You looked like their fucking body guard, looming behind them like a giraffe as you made your way inside, them smiling and laughing, you affecting your haughty mask, the one that protected you the best when you were feeling a bit off-kilter. Better to deem everyone here below your interest before they even had a chance to assess you, right?

The party was nice. They’d somehow managed to make the compound not feel like a concrete bunker, decorating almost every surface with some fabric or other, flashy reds and silvers and greens and blues, giant trees everywhere overloaded with decorations. Maximalism galore.

“It looks like Santa exploded in here,” you joked to your colleagues, receiving a bout of wild laughter in return. It hadn’t really been that funny, but hey, maybe you could be known as the “other deadpool” in the future if you worked hard enough on your comedy.

As usual, the lovelier girls of your department got swarmed pretty quickly by guys. Recruits, officers, cadets, other secretaries - they all flocked to your group. You didn’t blame them, your colleagues were beautiful, witty, smiling brightly and exuding a sort of light that could only be rivaled by the sun. They were nice to everyone too, unlike you.

You stayed and chatted for a bit. No one commented on your dress and certainly not the split at the side, and you tried not to let that get to you. This was a work event, after all, it would be inappropriate if they did come on to you or something. Your self-esteem whimpered quietly even so.

It didn’t take long for the rest to get tipsy, and someone started blasting music somewhere, effectively switching from corporate mingling-mode to drunken tomfoolery-mode. You easily resisted getting dragged to the dancefloor, effecting a disinterested, above-it-all mask as your work friends pouted and dragged your arm in a petulant, though surprisingly endearing way.

“I’m not debasing myself tonight, thank you very much,” you said, knowing it was harsh but only gaining a playfully scolding look before the whole gang bounced off to dance without you.

You made your way over to the bar instead. A half-hour or so more and then you could safely leave without breaking any social codes, you thought with relief as you ordered another glass of champagne.

Turning from the bar, glass in hand, you suddenly bumped into someone, champagne sloshing around the rim, a few drops spilling over your hand.

“Hey, watch where-” you started, words dying in your mouth as you looked up…and up a broad chest, a thick neck and then came face to face with Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier himself.

B-big, your brain supplemented eloquently as you stopped speaking all together.

How was he so tall? Okay, so you knew he was tall, you’d encountered him regularly over the years and had always felt dwarfed by the tree-trunk size of the man, but you were in four inch heels, god damnit, and you still had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. They glinted as he looked down on you, and for a moment you forgot who you were supposed to be and nearly shrank in on yourself, feeling uncharacteristically small.

“Sorry,” he simply said, giving you a once-over so quick you weren’t sure it’d happened at all, and then he leaned around you to grab a few napkins from the bar. He made quick work of taking the glass from your hand and wiping the stray drops of champagne from it, set it on the bar and then gently took your hand in his and wiped it as well.

You could only stare in astonishment at the size of his hands, rough and calloused, but with neatly trimmed nails, engulfing yours and being so exquisitely gentle. He put the glass back in your hand and looked down at you with a pleased smile.

You quickly amassed your indifferent mask, raising a haughty eyebrow at him, and stepped aside so he could order whatever he wanted. He’d at least apologized and cleaned up the mess he (and you together, admittedly) had caused. You supposed it was the best outcome, both for your pride and confidence. You didn’t step far from the bar, sure you would be back soon enough for another glass, and looked out on the burgeoning dance floor in front of you.

“Why don’t you join?” a deep voice asked from the side.

Looking over, Bucky had come up to stand at your side, looking out over the crowd as well, whiskey glass in hand. His strong profile was illuminated by the flashing lights of the dance floor, reflected in those baby blue eyes, and his hair was tucked back into a bun at the back of his head. His suit must have been tailored by sorcery or something, because it hugged him in all the right places, press neat and crisp, making him look both perfectly put together and indecently so.

Okay, so maybe you had a little something of a crush on the guy. He was fine as hell, and always put this old school New York charm on you whenever you met. He was the only one who still tried to charm and flirt with you whenever he came to Fury’s office, and though you put on your unimpressed and uninterested mask, thoroughly shutting him down each time, you secretly appreciated those moments more than you would ever admit out loud. It felt nice that he at least treated you the same as all the other secretaries - he was the only one who still did.

You raised your eyebrow, securing a bored look even as you wanted to ask with you?

“Not exactly my crowd,” you said instead, taking a swig at your drink.

“No? Didn’t think you cared about things like that,” he said, smoothly challenging you.

“Not exactly my music, then,” you said. Arrogance and low energy usually got people to leave you alone when you felt fragile. You turned to give him a fake, sarcastically apologetic smile.

“Ah, I see. Too bad, would’ve loved to see how wide that split goes while you twirl,” he said, leaning closer to you, and in your shock the mask you’d held on so tight cracked, and you whipped to look at him. He’d noticed it?

You saw the pleased victory shining in his eyes. Cheeky bastard was trying to break you, trying to make you drop the haughty exterior, like he knew you were only putting up a front. And you’d let your mask slip and showed him he was right. And like you suspected he knew, it was the exact sort of thing you deeply, secretly craved someone to do.

But it wouldn’t be that easy. Bucky could just be fucking with you, or making easy conversation. But he’d noticed the split in your dress, so he must’ve been looking, right? Just a little harder than everybody else. Still, it was out of the question to just drop every defense and wall you had now, in this room, just because of one comment from him. You quickly affected an unimpressed, almost fatigued mask, raising your glass to your lips.

“Too bad, Barnes, I’ve already had my high school prom,” you said, delivering the line with just the perfect amount of arrogance and judgment.

You felt his eyes lingering on your face for long moments as you stared into the crowd, refusing to meet his eyes and potentially let more slip. This shit was exhausting enough when people didn’t clock on to your farce. Still, a small part of you didn’t want him to stop looking, to stop showering you in this undivided attention that sizzled like carbonic bubbles on your skin.

You immediately shut down your disappointment when he left without another word, telling yourself to be proud you didn’t beg or flirt or plead for his attention like everyone else did. You didn’t need anyone but yourself, you needed to remember that.

The music shifted from some mainstream pop song to some very old jazz, and the sudden shift only had a second to register before Bucky appeared as from thin air, took your glass from you, downed the rest of your drink in one gulp (eyes shining with mischief as you gawked a little at him), ditched the glass on the nearby table and then promptly took you by the hands and hauled you out on the dance floor.

“W-wait, I -” your words cut off to a little squeal as the soldier wrapped a strong arm around your waist and twirled you so your feet lifted off the ground, the skirt of your dress flying out. Your arms clung around his neck and shoulders as the world spun in a flurry of bright, flickering lights, and your feet didn’t touch the ground for ten solid seconds as Bucky turned and turned.

When he eventually put you down, his arms didn’t let up much, keeping you firmly tucked to the hard planes of his stomach and chest with a hand that went around your back and held your waist on the other side.

You schooled your expression down even as nerves and excitement and a fair share of actual, fucking excitement filled you from the unexpected dancing. You actually did like to dance a lot. You looked up and found Bucky’s eyes on your face, glimmering in the bright lights as he easily led you in some old timey couple’s dance that he apparently knew perfectly.

“This music more to your liking?” he asked, challenging and genuine at the same time, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand his angle. Why was he doing this?

You knew people were watching, even as the dance floor was still full of other dancers making due with their modern dance moves to the old music. And though you did feel kinda nervous being so exposed, you couldn’t very well cut off this dance and leave - that would only make you look even more insecure than you felt.

So you soldiered through, putting on a mildly entertained, smug look and looking Bucky in the eyes.

“It’s certainly something else,” you said, and watched as his eyes flared over with a sort of playful frustration, shaking his head a little at you, but smiling despite himself.

“Drop the act, sweetheart,” he said then, low enough for no one else to hear, but it still made you bristle.

“What act?” you said, making it sound nonchalant and innocent at the same time. “Just because you remember one dance from 70 years ago, I’m supposed to swoon?” you challenged, knowing the words were harsh but goddamnit, he was getting too close.

A groan escaped him then, one you felt more than heard from the way your bodies were pressed together, and you flushed, not expecting that kind of response.

He leaned down and murmured in your ear.

“I like it when you’re mean, but I’d like it more if you were honest,” he said, and your breath caught, the physical sensation of his hot breath on your ear distracting you to the point of stumbling a bit on your heels. His arm around your waist didn’t let you so much as twist an ankle, which made you feel even more heated.

Before you could come up with a retort, Bucky flung you out in a twirl, making your skirt fly around you. He led you perfectly even as he almost threw you around like a ragdoll, and you had to admit you were amazed by how graceful you were even as every move and twist were orchestrated and led by Bucky. The crowd disappeared as you moved to the music, coming back to Bucky, being swung out again, your back to his front at one point, his breath hot on your neck, swinging out again and stepping past each other in swoops only connected by your hand in his.

You met his eyes and saw the flash over with an intensity that made your skin prickle, with a hunger you could scarcely believe was meant for you, eyes raking over your body, lingering on the leg peaking out through the split in your skirt, your chest heaving in the low cut neckline of your dress, your face flushed and no doubt looking as amazed as you felt on the inside.

The dance ended in a perfectly timed dip, Bucky holding you down and cradling your neck and the small of your back in capable arms, face so close you could feel his breath fan across your face, smelling of whiskey and spearmint.

You smiled, couldn’t help it, you hadn’t had this much fun at a work event in years. Bucky’s eyes flitted about your face as he echoed your smile with a brilliant flash of teeth himself. Your heart thudded in your chest, and your eyes flicked down to his lips, those luscious, plump lips and oh holy fuck did you want to kiss him at that moment. A desperation you couldn’t quell seized you by your fucking guts and you positively throbbed. Your smile faltered, and you saw his fall too. Daring to look up into his eyes, you saw the same hunger reflected there, nearly engulfing you in its heat.

Then the crowd returned, cheering, the music went back to some pop song from last year and reality dumped back in on your head so fast you almost made the mistake of scrambling out of Bucky’s hold.

No, no, no, way too exposed, this was not how you planned this night…

You were actually proud of the way you managed to slowly extract yourself from Bucky’s arms, give a slow, bored “thank you,” and then calmly leave the room all together to escape to the ladies room.

You had to admit, they hadn’t neglected the bathrooms in the compound, you thought as you occupied the space alone. They were kinda nice, big and spacious, marble and polished steel making the space comfortable and with an air of luxury compared to the practical, brutalist vibe of the rest of the building.

You touched up on your lipstick, hands shaking a little from the excursion of the dancing. Okay, you needed to leave, you thought to yourself as you felt your skin still sizzling faintly wherever Bucky’s hands had touched you. Your nerves seemed newly awakened as if from a deep slumber, and it would not do to develop an even deeper crush on him.

As if summoned, the door to the bathroom opened and Bucky stepped through, eyes finding yours in the mirror immediately.

“I think you’re supposed to be in the next room over Barnes,” you drawled even as your heart picked up speed.

He didn’t answer as he slowly crossed the room.

You couldn’t help shifting in your skin as your body thrummed with an exhausting amount of nervous excitement. His gaze was level,possessing your attention like an iron grip. It was like he saw right through every mask and facade you tried to put on, right in to the very center, the very truth inside you. It lulled you and provoked you at the same time.

“You’re in the wrong restroom, Barnes,” you said, even harsher, when he was about halfway across to you. He still didn’t answer.

You spun to face him, anger welling higher. Who did he think he was, coming in here and stripping away the only scraps of protection you had, looking at you like he could read the thoughts as they appeared in your mind?

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he answered as you glared at him, coming to stop directly in front of you, only inches between you, and the air there sparked with energy you just couldn’t deny you were affected by.

You scoffed, fighting against the crumbling of your exterior. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted him. Couldn’t deny it, couldn’t help yourself as your muscles ached to reach for him, to press yourself against him and let him wrap his strong, safe arms around you again. To tuck yourself away into him and shut your mind off and just feel taken care of - in any way - by someone other than yourself.

A desperate thought occurred to you; maybe you could do this without losing face. If you went on the offensive, you could still hold control over the situation while still letting whatever was sizzling between you and Bucky explode, you thought a bit desperately as you held his stare, his eyes darkening as the seconds ticked by. Maybe you didn’t have to bare your soul for him in order to get a taste of what you wanted. You could just make it out to be a hookup at a party, something carnal but detached. Give your body to him while still guarding your mind and soul.

Not giving yourself a moment more to stall, you surged forward, grabbed his neck and kissed him. He wasn’t as surprised as you’d liked by your sudden call to action. In fact, he seemed to come unleashed the moment your lips met his, a grunt sounding in his throat as he instantly wrapped one arm around your waist, his other going into your hair to keep your head firmly put where he wanted it.

Yes

The kiss was filthy, hot breaths and open mouths and tongue on tongue almost immediately, like a dam of pent up lust had just erupted at that first touch for the both of you. He pushed you back so the marble counter dug into your ass, and plastered himself against you, groaning as your hands moved to map out his back.

You fumbled to reach for the lapels on his jacket and he let up his hold just long enough for you to wrench his suit jacket off him before both pair of hands went on frantically groping and gripping and touching, and you couldn’t seem to draw breath into your aching lungs for all the burning desire that flooded your body.

Bucky broke out of your heady kiss, gasping as he leaned his forehead to yours, hands gripping your hip and the back of your neck so tight it almost pinched you, and you relished the feeling.

“Fuck,” he groaned between pants, and you liked the sound of that very much.

You gave him a sultry and cocky “mhm” as you kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip. When you opened your eyes again, he was still looking at you, his stare so fucking intense.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and that…was stepping into a territory you were not too keen on. You couldn’t have sentimentality at that moment. You couldn’t control your tiny wince either, trying to move on with another kiss, your hands dragging down the hard planes of his chest to entice him to move along.

Bucky didn’t grant you that mercy. He apparently saw your wince as well as he saw the split in your skirt, and scrutinized you with a piercing stare as he reiterated between kisses.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured and you tried your damndest to ignore it, kissing him more intently, hands moving a bit desperately to his belt, but an uncomfortable laughter escaped you either way.

Bucky stopped your hands, grabbing them and putting them on the counter at your side before cradling your face firmly in his hands.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is he doing, you lamented as you looked everywhere but his eyes.

“I mean it, you’re a gorgeous woman,” he said and you whined softly, not at all capable of hearing that. Whether out of a misguided sense of pity or because he wanted to get in your panties, you didn’t want him to tell you that shit just to placate you. You were already dying to get fucked, false flattery was of no need. You were practically soaking your panties already just from his kisses and his hands, one warm and one slightly colder, moving over your body like he couldn’t get to all of it quick enough.

“You don’t have to-” you started exasperated, squirming to get away from the intimacy of his proximity, the way he looked at you and the way he was cradling your face.

“You see, this is what I mean. I think you’re hiding, doll. You don’t realise how fucking amazing you are, and you hide it behind a bitchy face and even bitchier words,” he said.

Words failed you then. The fucking audacity of this man to call you out like that. You were not prepared to be laid out like that, and you didn’t know whether to fight back with teeth and claws or to flee in your humiliation.

Bucky must have seen your warring thoughts on your face, the simmering rage at being cornered and confronted like this, like an animal frantic with self preservation.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, and you could see a fierce competitive glint light on fire in his eyes, pouncing on the challenge.

In a flash, he’d turned you around and you met your own expression in the mirror above the sink. Bucky stepped flush against you again, and nestled the hard bulge in his pants right against your ass. You squirmed and whined a little. You wanted that inside you already. But Bucky held you tightly pinned between himself and the counter, his metal hand coming around to splay on your stomach, shining metal against the black silk fabric, effectively giving you no room to move. His hand was so huge, it covered nearly the whole area between your belly button and the underside of your heaving breasts. He propped his chin on your shoulder and captured your eyes through the reflection in the mirror.

“You’re exquisite, doll” he whispered, his other hand landing lightly on your waist. This time you saw your own wince of disbelief in the mirror, instantly embarrassed at how revealing you were. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, both from his words and the way his eyes were just eating your body up in the mirror.

“I’m nothing special,” you heard yourself murmur.

“Oh, on the contrary, doll, you’re as rare as they come,” Bucky said, flesh hand moving to grab your hips appreciatively. “Swinging these hips all around the compound, your walk so sweet compared to that barking mouth you’ve got on ya,” he said, drawled a bit, his Brooklyn accent coming forth, kneading your hips and pulling you back to grind your ass on his hard bulge.

Your breath hitched on a gasp, and your heart fluttered in your chest. He’d been watching the way you walked? And he liked it?

His hands came up to cup one of your heaving breasts.

“Such elegant lines, perfect, round tits,” he murmured into the skin below your ears, and you trembled in his arms as his fingers teased a nipple through the thin fabric of your dress.

“A neck that’s just begging to be sucked on and marked,” he continued before his lips sealed itself to that sensitive spot right below the hinge of your jaw and you gasped raggedly as sparks flew through your body.

You were positively high on the novelty of his praise, but you just couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’ve…a-always just thought I was so average,” you admitted, voice timid, nothing short of a whisper, and you berated yourself for revealing your insecurity so openly, even as Bucky’s lips let go of your skin and he nuzzled the hair behind your ear.

“God, no,” he sighed, hand coming down to your hip again, guiding you to grind back on his bulge again, and fuck, he was hard, “I don’t get how you could even think that,” he said, and the genuine astonishment in his voice had to be real, or else he was a brilliant fucking actor.

Your hips had started moving on their own now, steadily grinding between his metal hand on your stomach and the hard cock at your ass, sizzling sparks of heat traveling your body from the friction. You could feel Bucky nodding into the crook of your neck, encouraging and praising at the same time.

“But I’m…kinda tall…surely y-you’d want someone shorter, m-more petite?” you heard yourself whisper, and you just had to ask him right out, to give voice to those incessant, nagging insecurities.

He actually laughed then, a breathy chuckle against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? You nearly gave me a heart attack in these heels tonight, baby,” he said easily, calm and honest and straightforward and it was like he wasn't even trying to convince you of anything, he was just speaking honestly. “And when you danced with me? How sexy and smooth and fucking alive you were as you let me spin you? Couldn’t take my fucking eyes of you, fuck, I haven’t been this hard in ages. Plus, you’re just perfect for me to fuck like this. Can’t you feel how perfectly your ass fits against my cock when you grind like that, huh? Can’t have that with a shorter girl, you were made for me, darling,” he said, breath growing puffy and you were almost shaking, both from his words and the blazing fucking heat they stoked.

A needy, whimpering sort of whine escaped you at that. It was perfect, your height to his. Perfect for you to nudge your ass against his pelvis and feel his hot lips and a sliver of tongue on the heated skin of your neck at the same time.

“Do you believe me, now, sweetheart? Or do you need me to fuck it into you?” he asked then, a teasing lilt to his voice even as it dropped a fucking octave, rumbling over you skin, making you ache.

You turned your head to graze your lips against his, recognising when he was posing a challenge by now, when his competitive side came out to play. You waited just a few seconds, letting your mingling, ragged breaths fill the silence, before answering, looking him straight in his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered against his mouth.

His reaction was almost instant. His metal hand came up to cradle your throat, pinning you close to him as his flesh hand had the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips in a split second. His hand was between your legs in the next second, brazen and possessive and you fucking loved it, knees nearly buckling in your stilettos as his warm flesh palm cupped you there. A filthy groan sounded in your ear.

“Fucking perfect pussy already soaked for me, huh?” he downright growled, fingers moving up and down your clothed slit, feeling just how wet you were through the flimsy fabric of your lace panties. “This pussy aching, huh? Hasn’t been fucked right in ages, I reckon? Some bastard left you feeling like less than just perfect?” he babbled as he began rubbing tight circles on your clit, making you keen at both his words and ministrations, mind floating up to the fucking skies on a cloud of endorphins and arousal. “You give me their names, honey, and I’ll make sure they never bother you again,” he said, dark intentions in an even darker, gruffer voice and you couldn’t stand still for the way you needed him.

“Fuuuck, please, Bucky,” you whined, grinding your pussy down on his hand, soaking his fingers.

“That’s right, baby, you take what you deserve, you take what this perfect body deserves,” he encouraged.

“I need…I need,” you breathed, eyes closing as you rode the sensation of being touched like this, so expertly, too much one second and not enough the next.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me,” he groaned into the skin of your neck.

“I need…your…please, your cock,” you whimpered.

His hands pulled back and gave your pussy a playful little slap, making you jolt and yelp in his arms, and the slight sting felt so fucking good.

“That’s right,” he said, giving you a few precious seconds to collect your frayed, jumbled, melting mind as he frantically undid his belt and fly, pulling his cock out and pulling your soiled panties to the side to notch his cock at your weeping hole.

He didn’t give you anymore time to beg before he pushed his hips forward and you both gasped raggedly as his cock slid in, perfectly to the hilt, your pussy sucking him in like it had a mind of its own. His whole frame, massive and rugged as it was, shuddered as he stood there with his cock buried inside you, and you opened your eyes to watch in astonished fascination through the reflection in the mirror as he took a moment to get a hold of himself. One hand flexed its grip around your throat, the other on your hip, grip so tight and you hoped it would leave bruises.

He didn’t wait long until he started thrusting, pulling out almost completely before thrusting in again, forgoing any buildup and going straight to the main fucking course and you were so ridiculously relieved he wasn’t teasing you anymore.

His hands let go of you and you fell forward, draping yourself over the counter so you could just feel the way his cock, thick and ridged and so fucking hard, dragged against your walls, yielding nothing as he speared you.

“Need to see you,” Bucky breathed between pants as he kept fucking you.

You felt the bodice of your dress loosen and realized he had undone the zipper at the back of your dress, peeling it off your arms and then hauling you the meat of your shoulder to straighten against him again, completely naked from the waist up.

His hands were on your exposed skin immediately, mapping out your ribcage, squeezing the pouch beneath your belly button and coming up to knead your breasts, pulling on your nipples. He was like a man starved, all the while his cock was steadily pumping into you, pushing you higher and higher, the sounds from where you were joined filtering in through your haze of lust and pleasure like a sinful symphony.

You opened your eyes to find his in your reflection, pools of incendiary desire following every minute twitch of your face. Your eyes flicked over your own face and saw the crimson flush, the sweat on your brow, hair ruffled, the scrunched up expression and heavy-lidded, drugged eyes. You looked a downright, embarrassing mess, your deepest pleasure so plainly written on your face, exposing you to the point of pain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to lean back to hide in the crook of his neck.

Bucky did not let you.

“Oh no, no, no, don’t hide from me now, sugar,” he said, one hand coming up to pull your face forward, “look at me,” he ordered and you opened your eyes to his again.

“See how exquisite you are?” he asked, hips slapping against your ass. “See how beautiful you look, taking my cock?” he asked, watching you watch him in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he ordered, and you whimpered as you met your own gaze in the mirror again.

There was an almost lascivious tilt to his voice as he kissed your neck sloppily and murmured.

“Tell her she looks beautiful,” he said.

You thrashed as much as you could in your pinned position, the counter digging into your hips, high heeled shoes barely touching the floor.

“Bucky,” you whined petulantly. There was no way.

“Say it, darling,” he warned before his hips slowed down to an almost complete stop, and that only made you thrash harder. “Oh, you want to come baby? Then look at yourself in the mirror and say ‘I’m beautiful,” he said, and you gawked at him in disbelief, humiliation and mortification burning hot on your cheeks.

The hand not holding your face towards the mirror kept exploring your flesh as he waited, pinching and grabbing everywhere like he just couldn’t stop. You looked at yourself in the mirror, took in the simmering fire in your eyes, your lips with its bright red lipstick smeared all over.

“Come on, darling, don’t you want to come? Won’t you let me make you come?” Bucky asked, spreading kisses down your neck as his eyes burned into your face through the mirror.

You fought it for as long as you could, didn’t want to play these games, didn’t want to see your own vulnerability on your face as you said something you should believe but didn’t quite.

Bucky grinded his hips all the way inside you and then stilled completely and your need won.

“I’m beautiful,” you whispered, breath hitching as you saw the disbelief, the resistance in your own eyes, hating yourself both for saying it and not believing it.

Bucky groaned in a resolutely pleased manner and started moving his hips again, languidly stroking in and out of your sopping cunt.

“Again,” came his growled order from behind.

Your resilience was weaker this time, with the tip of his cock reaching so deep, adding rhythmic pressure to that elusive spot in the deepest nook of your body that had your knees going wobbly.

“I’m beautiful,” you said again, this time giving a low, timid voice to the words.

Bucky groaned behind you, hands gripping you tighter as his hips picked up speed.

“That’s right. Say ‘I’m gorgeous’.”

“I-I’m gorgeous.”

“Say ‘I deserve this’”

“I d-d - oh fuck - I deserve this - ah -”

“Say ‘I’m making Bucky Barnes crazy on a daily basis and I don’t even care enough to acknowledge it,” Bucky husked behind you.

That made you actually giggle, though it came out more like a stuttering whine.

“I-I didn’t know,” you moaned, breaking your own eye contact in the mirror to look at his face. You honestly didn’t. Sure, you’d established a playful banter over the years, frequently sparking conversation whenever he was at your desk for something concerning Fury or you met in the halls or right after department meetings. But you’d honestly never considered you, just being you, could be driving a man like him crazy.

Eyes dark as the ocean burned into yours from where his face was propped on your shoulder, mouth nibbling on the side of your neck and your earlobe as his hips kept up a punishing pace. It was becoming hard to string together coherent thoughts, your mind going hazy from the steady punch of his cock.

He smiled against your skin, nipping it so hard you squealed a little, head swimming from the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You’re killing me here, doll,” Bucky murmured playfully against your skin, hands moving again, skimming over your skin and kneading your flesh in such an appreciative way it had you blushing, even as you were steadily pounded by his cock, halfnaked in the bathroom at your workplace during a fucking Christmas party.

It was all a haze, the way you were hurtling towards the precipice of your orgasm, his cock in your pussy, his hot breath on your neck, his hands roaming your body like a starved beast. The smell of his rich, musky cedar cologne and the hint of fresh, male sweat. And his eyes, devouring everything his hands didn’t touch.

“I-I’m gonna…fuck, Bucky -” you stammered. You were so close.

“I got you,” Bucky answered breathlessly, his flesh hand moving down between your legs to stroke your clit in fast, tight circles.

You keened, vision blurring as your muscles seized, teetering on the edge. You faintly registered your own expression in the mirror in front of you, mouth falling open, eyebrows scrunching and a crimson flush high on your cheeks.

You heard Bucky groaning behind you and trembled at the sound.

“Fuck, there you go, baby, fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking - tight, god damn -”

And then Bucky was wrenching your face to the side and kissing you. And maybe it was the way his hips stuttered as you moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was the possessiveness with which he pushed his tongue into yours. Maybe it was the way his metal hand gripped you tighter as you started shaking, or maybe it was the sheer desperation in his kiss as he herded you over the edge that truly made you feel beautiful in that moment. Beautiful and blissed out as you spasmed on his cock, hearing his choked grunt as you pulled his orgasm right out of him.

You felt him throb in turn with you, his cum pooling hot deep inside you, the both of you nearly falling off your damn feet as you came together, the kiss disintegrating to a mere sloppy tangle of breaths and tongues.

As you slowly came down from your high, your mind started whirring. Halfway preparing for Bucky to pull out and leave swiftly. To maybe give you a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, to push the skirt of your dress down over your ass and then make his exit from this very public bathroom. It wasn’t that you thought Bucky was some kind of sleaze, but it would be okay if he left it at that. You were a big girl, you knew people got carried away during a rowdy fuck, and if he left it at this, you would be fine. You told yourself as much, at least…

But Bucky didn’t leave. He didn’t pull out right away, either. Once you could both catch your breath, he reiterated his kiss, slow and thorough and breathtaking all anew. His metal hand firmly secured your face to meet his and his flesh hand gave your clit a few more gentle swirls, and you could feel his smile, fascinated and playful against your mouth as you jolted at the sensation. Whimpering a little at the overstimulation but keeping yourself completely still for it anyway, you were astonished by how sensitive you were and how fucking good it felt to have Bucky teasingly play with you as you basked in the afterglow.

You squeezed around his cock still lodged inside you, and he gave a little grunt in response.

“Careful, sugar, or I might get hard again,” he murmured against our lips, rolling his hips gently into your ass.

“Is…is that supposed to deter me?” you asked, your snarky tone just a little undermined by the way you gasped.

He groaned at that, low and pleased.

“I suppose it should…at least until I can get you out of this fucking bathroom and into a bed,” he murmured, and a surge of adrenaline went through you. He wanted to do this again?

A small thought in the back of your mind wondered how it was possible that no one had come in and interrupted you by now, but it was quickly pushed away as Bucky gently pulled himself out of you. You tried to conceal the shiver of arousal that went through you as you felt his cum leak out of you and down the inside of your thighs.

“Stay like that,” he whispered, removing himself and the fucking furnace of warmth that had been plastered to your back. The cold air hitting your back made you realize just how naked and exposed you were, your dress a scrunched up tangle low on your waist.

You didn’t have time to become self-conscious though, before Bucky was back, kneeling behind you. Peaking over your shoulder, you were just in time to see him wipe a damp hand towel up your thigh and gently across the puffy, sensitive mess between your legs. You flushed for an entirely new reason now. It was just so…intimate, and sweet and generous and you struggled to handle the care and tenderness with which Bucky thoroughly cleaned both his mess and yours.

You watched him quietly as he cleaned you up, and then as he seemingly couldn’t help himself from bending forward and kissing your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe a small lick to your still sensitive clit. You yelped, hips bucking away.

He shushed you gently and kissed your ass cheek soothingly, fitting the admittedly soggy fabric of your panties back over your pussy before getting on his feet again. With gentle hands, he turned you around, and your eyes went wide as you looked down to see his cock still hanging out of his fly, already back to full hardness.

Bucky followed your shocked expression down and chuckled.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, hands still cradling your shoulders, moving up to knead the muscle between your shoulders and neck, and you hummed in pleasure, eyes falling close.

“Does that always happen?” you asked, feeling the soreness in the muscles ease up under Bucky’s dexterous fingers.

“No,” he answered simply, and you could tell by his tone that it meant something. That it lent itself to everything he’d said about you and the supposed attractiveness you held to him. You kept your eyes closed and bit your lips to keep from smiling too broadly at that.

Feeling emboldened, you reached for him, hands finding his clothed chest and stroking down until you reached his cock, wrapping a tentative fist around its stiff heat.

You heard Bucky suck in a breath, and then his hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight as he thrust his hips lightly a few times, pumping his cock gently through your fist. You were ready to go again by the time he gently pried your hand away and groaned like he was being gently tortured.

You couldn’t help your pout, opening your eyes to find him gazing at your face.

“I want to take care of you, too,” you complained, and the gentle whine of your tone sounded so small and decidedly submissive, certainly not fitting the badass work persona you’d built. It just suddenly felt so safe to be a bit whiny with him.

Bucky only stepped closer and cradled your face in his hands.

“I’ll let you take care of me later, sweet thing, to your heart’s content. For now, tuck me back in and we can get outta here,” he drawled, Brooklyn accent soothing his tone and lulling you to comply, pacified by his promise to let you take care of him soon.

You did as he said, tucking his hard cock back into his pants and doing up his fly and belt as he watched your face intently, no doubt seeing the way your eyes grew hazy, your breath labored and your face flushing all anew at the way he held you while you handled him. You let your hands linger over his bulge when you were done, dying to take him out again and just do whatever he wanted to make him feel good.

Soon, you told yourself, soon.

“Now, I would like to swing you one last time on that dance floor out there, let everyone see that gorgeous leg through that deadly split in your skirt. And then I want everyone to see you leave on my arm, before I take you back to mine and take care of you properly,” Bucky said, voice even and sure and smile so dashing, you couldn’t help but smile back and nod in enthusiastic agreement.

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