cleared their plates

Imagine Marius trying super hard to impress JVJ the first time he meets him and he’s just stumbling over his words and messing up and he’s just a massive bundle of nerves. And JVJ is there like “ yes hello I am the serious father” but like he’s just dying because oh my god bless this boy.

And then they have dinner and they go to say grace and JVJ is like

“Our father who art in heaven

thank you for blessing us with this food

And Lord, if you’re listening, let Marius Pontmercy know that he is welcome in my house and to my family and that the plate he accidentally broke that Cosette sneakily cleared away was an ugly plate and I’m glad it is broken.”

And anyways he can no longer keep a straight face and he bursts out laughing, followed not long after by Cosette and Marius feels like he could cry from relief and he’s so happy.

I Hate Christmas - Sherlock x (y/n)

Word count: 1784

Warnings: none

“Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson called from downstairs. “It’s (y/n)!”

Sherlock hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could. “Ah, (y/n). Finally. John and Mary are preparing dinner upstairs and I’ll be heading out for a bit.”

“Sherlock!” You said, exasperated. “You promised you’d stay. Even if you had a case. It’s Christmas for Christ’s sake.”

“I hate Christmas.” He said with a sneer. “It brings about carolers and holiday cheer.”

“Oh, Sherlock. Promise me you’ll still come home for dinner and presents.”

“Food is for the weak and I told everyone not to get me anything. I also did not get anything for anyone else…” He said trailing off.

“Sherlock…”

“Fine. I promise I’ll be home for dinner and presents.” He said rolling his eyes. “Even if I don’t eat and I don’t have presents.”

“Good boy.” You said smiling brightly. You bounced into the building away from the cold, chilling air of London. Sherlock moved past you and into the freezing air.

“I’m not a boy (y/n). I’m a man. A very smart one at that.” He said quickly, as if in a rush, which to be honest he probably was. He then briskly walked away. Mrs. Hudson gave you a sad smile.

“Sorry about him dear. That’s Sherlock though. Always dashing about. Anyhow, might you come up for a spot of tea? John and Mary’s food smells so delicious.”

You smiled kindly at her, “Of course, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you.”

Time Skip

“Mrs. Hudson!” Sherlock’s loud voice rang from downstairs. “I’m back for Christmas dinner.” He said in a disgusted tone you could tell he wasn’t really trying to hide. He walked upstairs quickly, taking the steps two at a time. He walked past you hastily, using his coat to conceal something that he was carrying. “Mrs. Hudson, John, (y/n) don’t wait up. I’ll be in my room wrapping things up. I’ll be back in a wink.” He said winking at you. You blushed profusely. Trying to cover it up, you said, “Shall we start eating?”

“Of course.” John said with a happy smile.

“Mary, the pie looks delicious.” You said to her.

“Oh, I didn’t make it. John did. He’s a great baker.” She said bragging slightly about her wonderful husband.

“Well then John, it looks simply divine.” You said excited to dig in to the wonderful looking food.

Time Skip – After Dinner

“Oh, the meal was so scrumptious.” Mrs. Hudson commented, a little bit sleepy from the meal.

“It was.” You said, a bit sleepy yourself. “It was too bad Sherlock didn’t eat anything.” You said clearing the last of the plates from the table. As if on cue Sherlock emerged from his room.

“Time for presents.” He said lazily, as if bored with the whole affair and idea of Christmas. Little did you know, inside he was having a silent panic attack. He secretly slipped something under the tree.

“Ok.” You said giddily, smiling like a child. “I’m excited to see what you got me Mr. Holmes.” You said nudging him in the side.

“Nothing.” He responded. “I told you earlier that I didn’t get anyone anything.”

You looked down, slightly saddened by this sentence. Your Christmas cheer was being ruined by Sherlock.

“You know you don’t have to be such a spoilsport.”

“I actually do.”

“Why, Sherlock?”

“The idea of buying people presents gives some people anxiety. Anxiety about not getting the right thing. In fact, it is scientifically proven that people have more stress around the holidays.” He said with a completely straight face.

“Really Sherlock? You don’t buy people presents because you’re afraid you’ll get the wrong thing?”

“That is what I said, yes.” He said rolling his eyes.

“Sherlock… We’re your friends. We’ll be happy with anything you give us.”

“Really?” He said raising an eyebrow. “Last Christmas John said he loved my gift. He lied. I read his body language. He was not at all pleased with my gift. I was given a mental talent for reading people and it is a blessing and a curse. Let me ask you something, (y/n). Do you sometimes wish I were a normal person? That I’m unable to read people like a book?”

Without missing a heartbeat, you answered his question honestly, “No. You are perfect. If you weren’t the way you were you would never have met me. You never would have been ‘The Great Sherlock Holmes’, and I never would have come to you with my case.”

He clasped his hands together, thinking deeply. “Hmm… You’re right.”

“As I always am.” You said.

“Not always.” He corrected quickly.

You laughed. John and Mary came out of the kitchen. “What’s so funny?” John asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” You said. “Let’s go. I can’t possibly wait any longer. I can feel the presents calling to me.”

“Presents don’t talk.” Sherlock mentioned quietly.

“They do in my mind palace.” You said, teasing him.

He sighed tiredly, “Let’s just get on with the presents.”

John cleared his throat. “Ok then. Let’s see, first present.” He picked up a box with green wrapping. He said out loud, “For Mary and John, from (y/n).” You smiled as they unwrapped it together. They pulled out a small onesie.

“It’s for the baby.” You said smiling brightly. “Do you guys like it?”

Mary turned to you. “Oh, (y/n). We love it!” She came over to hug you.

John said, “Thank you (y/n). It’s a wonderful gift.”

You picked the next box. “For Sherlock, from John and Mary.” You smiled at the couple as you unwrapped the present for Sherlock. You pulled out a hat. You laughed. Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at the hat in disgust. You smiled at Mary, “Thanks guys.” You looked at John and mouthed, “I’ll make him wear it.” The next present was for Mrs. Hudson, from John and Mary. It was a nice pink shawl. John and Mary had given you a nice coat that matched Sherlock’s. The presents from John and Mary were all wonderful. Next, it was your turn to give everyone presents. You had already given John and Mary their present so you gave Mrs. Hudson hers. Sher pulled out a blouse, a skirt, and a pair of heels all matching the same royal blue color. “Thank you, dear.” She said smiling at you.

“Of course, Mrs. Hudson.” You said, matching her smile. Then you handed Sherlock his present. He opened it and was surprised to see a brand new blue scarf.

“Thank you very much, (y/n).” He said looking over at you.

You smiled at him, “Anything for you, Sherlock.”

Mrs. Hudson seemed to be ready to bounce out of her seat. Sher quickly handed everyone their presents. Your gift was a nice jumper. “Mrs. Hudson, did you knit this all by yourself?” You inquired.

“Yes I did.” She said quite proudly. Sherlock’s was a fancy suit.

“Mrs. Hudson, where did you get this?” He asked.

“Oh, it was from a real fancy shop. I know you have a lot of suits, but this one just seemed to pop to me. It would look perfect on you. I mean you have all black suits; you never wear blue. I thought it would look real nice on you.”

“Thank you. I like it.” He said cautiously, as if his words might offend her. Everyone looked around. There were no more presents to be opened. Everyone looked expectantly at Sherlock. They didn’t seem surprised, however. They soon all packed up and left, save for Mrs. Hudson, who had gone upstairs. You started to clean up the trash on the ground from the presents. Sherlock watched you carefully, studying you. You had finished clearing all of the wrapping paper from around the tree when a little twinkle from under the tree caught your eye. You reached a hand under the tree and felt a box. You pulled it out. It was a small box covered with shiny silver wrapping paper. Carefully you turned it over, ‘To my dear (y/n), from your Sherlock,’ it said in fancy writing on the wrapping paper. You turned to Sherlock and he gave you a smile. “I didn’t want you to open it in front of everyone.” He said smirking at your surprised face.

“Here, I thought you were a pompous jackass who was too good to get anyone anything.” You commented, joking lightly. Sherlock only rolled his eyes.

“Open it.” He said. “Before I change my mind and return it.”

“Now I know what you meant when you said you were in your room, ‘wrapping things up’. You meant it literally, that you actually were ‘wrapping something up’. Gosh, you are clever.”

“I know.” He said, sarcastically. “Now open it.”

You excitedly ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside was a black square velvet box. You gasped in surprise. It was from Tiffany’s. You traced your fingers along the velvet on the outside of the box. “What is it?” You asked Sherlock, looking over at him. He only smiled mysteriously.

“Open it and see.”

You opened the box to see the diamond necklace you had been drooling over for a long time every time you passed the window of Tiffany’s. “Sherlock! You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I actually did. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how every day when we walked past the store you looked longingly and lovingly at this necklace. I read John, I can read you too.”

“Sherlock! This is just too much. I-I” You were at a loss for words. You looked down at the box and noticed there was another, much smaller, box inside. You picked it up. “Sherlock… What’s this?”

He stayed silent. So you took the box carefully in your hands and opened it up. Inside was a beautiful diamond ring. You gasped. “Oh my. Oh my gosh.” You looked up at Sherlock. He smiled mysteriously.

“I see no need to get on one knee and all so I’ll just say it. Will you (y/n) (y/l/n) the most beautiful and clever and kind and funny person I have ever met and also my favorite human being in this entire wretched world, agree to be my wife?”

“Yes, Sherlock. Yes of course I’ll be your wife.” You stood up to hug him and as you hugged you noticed a small green plant hanging on top of Sherlock’s head. You smiled. As you pulled apart from the hug you pecked Sherlock on the lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned.

“Tradition.” You responded with a smirk.

“I hate tradition.”

“Is there anything you don’t hate?”

“I don’t hate you.”

You smiled softly. “Hey, don’t get soft on me now Mr. Holmes.”

“I won’t Mrs. Holmes.”

The End

Daddy Drabbles #4

- Bucky walks your daughter to preschool - based off (x)

Ring. Ring. Ring. 

Groaning you reached blindly for the phone on your nightstand. “Hello?” you mumbled into the phone your voice half muffled by your pillow. Bucky wakes up just to hear you say “I’ll be right there” and he rolls over to face you with a sigh.

“Did you get called into work?” he asks, knowing you were beyond tired after working yesterday at the hospital.

“They need me” you reply, already getting out of bed. Searching through your clothes you look for your scrubs, Bucky sat up and watched you practically run around the room . “Oh and babe, Layla has preschool in two hours” you reminded him with a quick peck before closing the bathroom door. Bucky let’s out a soft groan before flopping back down on the bed.

Layla was your delightful four year old whose biological father had run out the moment things got too hard. Luckily you had started dating Bucky about a year ago and thanked the universe everyday for sending him into your life. They were like two peas in a pod and it warmed your heart to see them get along so well. For the past two weeks you had made sure to roster your shifts so you could walk her to her new preschool but today Bucky would have to do it alone and it daunted him.

Keep reading

Drive down the shoulder of the road? Enjoy your fine.

I’m a New Yorker, and like all New Yorkers who drive, I hate cabbies and livery drivers with a fiery passion. I don’t hate someone just because they happen to be one of these drivers, but such a large percentage of them are perfectly happy to speed through traffic, never use a turn signal, cut you off, fuck over tourists, rapidly weave across lanes to pick up a fare, etc… that it’s hard not to generalize.

Anyway, I drive on Van Wyck Expressway every day. Everyone from the area knows that the Van Wyck has been perpetually under construction pretty much since it opened (Seinfeld even has a bit about it). Traffic is frequently congested, but it would more or less move along except that many drivers feel they’ve found a magical shortcut by cutting down the emergency shoulder, then when the shoulder runs out, they have to force their way over. This slows down everyone.

I have a dashcam on my car, and a few months ago, I got footage of a black livery SUV went speeding past me on the shoulder. I reviewed the footage later, and you can see the license plate clear as day.

I decided to check out the Taxi and Limousine Commission’s website, and found they have a very easy online form to file out a complaint about a taxi or livery driver. I filled it out, and uploaded the video as well as a couple of stills taken from it.

It was a long process, but a prosecutor for the TLC called me to discuss what happened, and they confirmed that the driver was indeed in violation of TLC rules, and would have to attend a hearing, and asked that I be available to participate in the hearing by phone as well.

On the date of the hearing, I called in and summarized what happened. I disconnected after that, so I’m not sure what the driver’s side of the story was, but it must not have been persuasive, because today (about two weeks later), I received an e-mail saying he had been found guilty, and given a $700 fine.

Jealousy (Scott McCall smut)

Summary: After finding you with Liam, Scott decides to teach you some respect (I realise that makes it sound like cheating, but it’s not dw !)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT ! +deals with the alpha/beta/omega dynamic to a certain extent

A/N: AaaAAAaahhh my first Teen Wolf smut! I really hope people enjoy reading this :) You’ve got to wait a while for the smut, but it’s worth it - believe me ;)

If you’re new to my blog, hey! I hope you stick around for a while <3

Originally posted by allpeopleareincredible

“Get out.”

The harsh words of your alpha seem to ripple through the room, anger pulsating in every direction. You glance up, only to see his red eyes flickering dangerously between you and the naked boy to your left. 

“What?” Liam’s voice cracks, wavering with a slight fear. You tilt your head to the side to see him frozen, hands clenched around the bedsheets.

“I said,” Scott moves further into the bedroom, his deliberate footing sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine, “Get. Out.” You stay still, knowing that the words are only aimed at the boy you’ve spent the last hour fooling around with. 

Keep reading

Going with Harry to tape the BBC Radio 1 interview with Grimmy (Fluffy af)

Or when you have to keep secret that you filmed a video question for Harry…

“Nervous?” you ask before taking a large bite of toast with butter and jam.

“It’s just a normal chat with Nick,” he wipes the crumbs from your lip before you can swat his hand away, adding, “I’m just nervous for it to air.”

“Yeah, too bad we can’t be on the beach with Nicky when that happens,” you smirk from your perch on one of the tall stools by the breakfast bar.

Harry smacks your thigh lightly from his seat next to you, nearly spitting out his tea. “You know he hates when you call him that,” he tilts his head to the side as his body shakes silently with laughter.

“‘S’why I call ‘im that,” you say with a mouthful of jam.

Keep reading

Can’t Remember to Forget You | ix

Summary: When you almost die in battle, a distraught Bucky - afraid of what will become of him if he loses you - decides to end things. But what happens when he loses his memory, only to end up falling in love with you all over again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none

A/N: Blade said this was perfect, and I’ve got nothing else to add except: the end is near. || crtfy masterlist


Originally posted by caps-bucky


Keep reading

Punk (Chap. 4)

Originally posted by satanslifecoach

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 1878 

Warnings: Cursing, low-self esteem, chubby!reader x bucky, idk….

A/N:  Sorry for the long wait.  I needed some time.  I’ve got the next few chapters just about ready to go…and I’m gonna try and make them hurt ;) yay angst!


After Natasha successfully slammed you to the mat for the sixteenth time in a row you finally cried ‘uncle’ and ended the hour long workout/torture session.  You’d come here to kickbox and beat the holy hell out of a bag but a certain spider had other ideas.

“I deserve this,” you groaned.  Your chest heaved as your lungs strained for breath. The amorphous blob of a sweatshirt you insisted on wearing while exercising was soaked with sweat and made you feel as if you were slowly cooking in one of Hell’s saunas.  “This is why I hate exercising.”  Nat extended a hand to pull you to your feet but you shook your head dramatically on the mat.  “No, just leave me here to die.  I quit.  You go out and fight the good fight.  I’ll save my skills and start a nice, quiet dart league or somethin’.”  Natasha rolled her eyes and kicked your leg. “No, seriously.  I retire my knives to you.  My guns, throwing stars, all of it.  Take care of Ferd for me.  Tell him his mummy loved him,” you wailed with a huge fake sob.

Keep reading

Eat Me

Summary: Sugar daddy Phil feederism fic where dan is really thin when he first starts because no money but Phil loves feeding him and watching him fill out

Author’s Note: A bunch of people loved this idea so here it is. This might be the weirdest thing ive written so feedback would be great. like would you guy’s want more of this type of stuff or do you prefer other kinks more? lemme know <3 lol at my title what does it even mean in the context of this fic (2.1k words) anyways i finished this earlier but didn’t get to post it til now sorry about that also happy valentines day! <3

Keep reading

@agentas
I guess me dragging my feet isn’t really helping your hunger! Better late than never I suppose!

———–

HANZO:
• A super picky eater.
• Will eat whatever S/o puts in front of him, but if he doesn’t like it, it’ll show.
• S/o is super nervous to cook for him at first.
• That fear is quickly smashed when he clears his plate and goes for seconds.
• Then thirds.
• Then fourths.
• How much can this man eat??
• If they’re making his favorite dish, they better make enough for an entire family or he’ll be heartbroken.

REAPER:
• At this point, eating is more a pleaser than a necessity for him.
• If S/o makes food for him, he’ll probably eat it in private (on account of his mask).
• Bursts into their office demanding to know where they bought the food.
• When they say they made it, he’s shocked, but immediately asks for more.
• It becomes something he looks forward to daily (not that he’ll admit it).
• Will fist fight anyone who says S/o’s cooking is bad.

MERCY:
• Doesn’t like most foods, but is good at hiding it until she’s finished.
• S/o decides to surprise her with a meal after a long day at work.
• Mercy is so touched by the sediment that she doesn’t even care if the food is awful.
• The food is not awful.
• It becomes a tradition almost.
• S/o surprises her with food a few times a month.
• Mercy becomes giddy every time she comes home and smells food cooking.
• Will often help if it isn’t done by the time she arrives.

D.VA:
• Will eat anything you put in front of her.
• Has probably eaten things past the expiration date and was like, “Haha, whoops!” And then went on with her day.
• D.va, please no.
• Probably asked S/o to make her something while she was busy.
• Ended up eating so much that she got a stomach ache.
• Basically begs S/o to cook for her now.
• Brags about them. All. The. Time.

A/N: This was supposed to be something small but it turned into more. It’s a really emotional subject and papa McCree just brings me so much joy. I cried a few times while writing this.

Words: 2,451
Warnings: None


He didn’t know and there was a chance he never would. How could he? Your whirlwind romance was just that – a whirlwind. He came into your life and left just as quickly. But it’s not like you didn’t want him. You loved that man and you weren’t angry at him for leaving. You knew from the start what his job involved and that he would be in and out of your life. There was also the chance that you would never see him again and the longer he was away the more that possibility seemed real.

You laid there and rubbed your growing stomach, as you did since you found out, and thought about that man you loved – your Jesse McCree. He wasn’t really yours though, was he? Not anymore, at least. Every night you wondered where in the world he could be now. You would be sure to tell the child about his father. The child would know its father was out there making the world a better place – saving the world even.

Keep reading

2

Cute FFXV merch (menu plates and clear folders) from Square Enix Cafe! I’m so glad I got them. Smiling Noct and Prompto are so adorable!

If they would release them on t-shirts that would be awesome.

But I’m still waiting for my Kristanna (Frozen - Kristoff and Anna) shirt so I give up my hope for promptis shirt!😆

Square Enix does'nt want to make money….

Clueless (ft. BTS’ Yoongi)

Originally posted by jimiyoong

Genre: Pure fluff

Pairing: YoongixReader

Summary: Yoongi tries to celebrate your birthday with you for the first time since you started dating less than a year ago, but he realizes that even after spending so much time with you he was still so clueless.

Words: 1,774 (did not proofread)

You set down your bag on chair as you shrugged off your jacket, eyeing Yoongi’s back as he frantically stirred a small pot of soup and stabbed the sizzling steak with a kitchen thermometer that you didn’t even think he had in his apartment. You chortled, the telltale sign of your incoming snarky remarks. “What IS up, Min Yoongi-ssi? Why the candles and this—you’re cooking for me?”

“Sh-Shut up, you’re the one who kept on whining about how I can cook for Jimin and not for you.” And you would have wholeheartedly agreed with him if he hadn’t stuttered. Instead, you laughed in response and hovered behind him, trying to peek over his back until he finally turned to you with an annoyed look on his face. “Why are you here so early anyway?”

You shrugged, looking at the full sink before proceeding to arrange the pile of dishes at the very least. “It’s my birthday. If I hadn’t been stubborn, my boss would’ve given me the day off.”

“Ya, ya stop that. Go sit down on the table.” He scolded, distressed by the fact that you were trying to help him.

“Can I at least light the candles and pour some wine?” you sneered and he rolled his eyes all while carefully scooping soup into bowls. “Where did my flowers-are-such-a-waste-of-money Yoongi go?”

“I know it’s cheesy, don’t rub it in. I’m trying to be nice.” He scolded, walking in to find you struggling with the corkscrew. He wordlessly took it from you and before you could protest, he was already unscrewing the cork ‘til it came off with a pop. He poured wine into the glasses before returning to the kitchen to assemble the steak. You began lighting the tealights with a kitchen lighter.

“I didn’t date you because you were nice, love.” You remarked so nonchalantly that you didn’t even see Yoongi’s bright red ears. “But thank you, I appreciate that you’re making an effort. I hope this is not because it’s the first time?”

“It is because it’s the first time. Don’t expect to get any special treatment next year.” He grumbled as he finally came in with his finished plate. You were about to tease him by asking about how is he so sure that you’ll still be together by your next birthday, but he set the food down in front of you and you immediately gasped.

The steak looked scrumptious with perfectly cooked shrimp on top and asparagus on the side. “Are you sure you cooked this and not just heated it up?”

He gave you a bored look and you laughed. “I’m kidding! Christ, but you do know that…” you hesitated, your now less playful gaze looking at the shrimp on your plate and then his curious eyes. “…I’m kinda allergic to shrimp, right?”

If Yoongi had been paying any less attention, he would have dropped his knife and fork. “What?”

“I told you this! Remember when we went to Palawan and the boys kept wanting to eat seafood? I told you that my lips swell when I eat too much.” You laughed it off, placing a piece of shrimp in your mouth as if to prove a point. You chewed gleefully, the garlicky taste bouncing off your palates.

“I… It slipped my mind, I guess. You’re gonna be okay?” he asked, looking at you eating another piece.

“There’re like four pieces of shrimp on my plate. I can honestly eat more.” You blabbered while cutting your steak. “Oooh… medium rare! The best way to eat steak’—“ Yoongi was already hiding a proud smile until you said, “or so they say, I like my steak medium well though.” You held up a hand and said, “I know, yuck, but I like steak period. I’m pretty sure I could eat it rare.”

If you hadn’t noticed Yoongi pouting from before, you could see it clearly now. “Don’t pout, sweetie. You did well!”

“Please tell me you at least like the wine.” He muttered dejectedly.

You sigh. “I don’t want to upset you, but I know you don’t like lying… I’m not a huge fan of red wine. I like white wine better.”

He was quiet, only the sound of you two cutting up the food was heard in the air, and you were afraid you spoiled the mood. “Your doenjang jjigae is a killer though!” You slurped the soup in a very unladylike manner and let out a subdued squeal as the warm soup trickled down your throat.

Now, it was his turn to sigh. You reached over the table to place your hand in his. “Are you sulking?”

“Yes.”

You laughed hysterically and Yoongi couldn’t help lighten up because of your infectious aura. Yoongi let himself get distracted by you animatedly describing how you caught your co-workers trying to decorate your desk for your birthday and he, in turn, told you that he got this whole idea from BTS’ resident cheesy couple, Jin and Namjoon. Before you knew it, he was already clearing the plates from the table and you were blowing out the tealights.

You watched him trying very hard to discreetly take the cake out from the fridge and light the candle on it but ultimately failing because you teased him, “I want my cake. Can’t you go any faster, grandpa?”

Yoongi sighed exasperatedly, giving up on trying to hide the chocolate cake from you. “Go change in the room or something first.”

Without thinking much, you went into his room, which was practically yours too because of the sheer amount of time you spend in his apartment, to grab some clothes and wash your face but then you saw the array of things placed on his bed.

Yoongi heard you scream and he rushed into his room, cake knife still in hand.

“Did you get me all of these?” you gestured wildly at the vast merchandise.

He was genuinely confused at your reaction before nodding slowly, “…yeah?”

“Why?!”

“It’s your birthday.”

“So your best idea for a gift is… everything?” you were doing the math in your head because you were pretty sure you saw a new iPhone, a Gucci box and three make-up palettes at first glance. Not to mention the huge teddy bear sitting on a different chair and all the other things that filled up almost his whole bed.

He spoke after a long minute, finally confessing, “I… didn’t know what to get you, so I got everything.”

“This… This is too much, Yoongi!” you exclaimed, disbelief coming out of your mouth in the form of laughter. “I don’t need all of these. I know you’re rich as fuck, but… I just don’t want you spending your money on me like this.”

He was pouting again, so you stepped closer and took his free hand. “Promise me you’ll let me return some of these stuff?”

Though it was embarrassing to concede on his end, he just nodded just because he was fully convinced that the night can’t go any worse. You brought a hand up to caress his cheek, before giving him a peck on the lips. “Thank you. Now, go get me my cake. I’m just going to wash my face. You won’t run when you see my bare face again, right?”

“You wouldn’t even see me.” He smirked before turning around. Even though he didn’t see, you rolled your eyes and changed into an oversized shirt and shorts before washing your face.

When you went into living room and dining area again, everything was dark save from the tealights and candles on the cake.  You grabbed the seat so that you could sit right beside him. You nudged his shoulders and then his thighs with yours, silently teasing him for the cheesy gesture.

“I’m too into this whole plan already to back out, so might as well see it through.” He removed his cap and ruffled through his hair, finally turning to you to look you properly in the eye. The warm lighting from the flickering candles softened his features, any harsh lines that might have been there before were all blended into this soft picture. He smiled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear and said sincerely, raspy voice and all, “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You returned his smile, silently rejoicing that the dim lighting somewhat hid your stained cheeks. “Thank you.” You murmured before blowing the candles out on your cake.

Immediately after, with only the tealights guiding you, you tugged Yoongi’s shirt and crashed your lips with his. He was caught off guard and you smirked because that was your intention, but he immediately regained control. He traced your arm from the fist that grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled you so that you were sitting on his lap. Your knuckles relaxed as you sighed into the kiss, opening your mouth for him and wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue pushed past your lips and clashed with yours, exploring you, tasting you as he pulled you closer with one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. He continued kissing you languidly, only pulling away when he finally earned a whimper from you.

You pressed your forehead against his, his breath mingling with your soft pants. “I guess your wish came true.” He whispered against your ear.

You giggled, belatedly realizing how cutesy you sounded, “You wish, you arrogant prick. I wished for something else.”

Yoongi pulled away to look at you. “What more can you possibly want?”

“I wished for my clueless boyfriend to actually know who I am and what I really want.” You answered with a pacifying tone.

“Well, what do you want?” You could almost hear the words, ’I’m offended’ from his question.

“You. I already have you. You’re the biggest give that life has given me, what more can I possibly want?” you smiled, finally indulging him with a genuine remark.

You saw the familiar smirk spread on his lips until it escalated to a proud grin that he can no longer hide. “Good.”

“I actually want one more thing.”

“What?!”

“But you see… The bed is occupied.”

A/N: Happy fucking birthday, Robyn/pumcakes/my daughter/stalker/follower (literally). @cdr-dameron this should be enough dontchu think? HAHAHHAHA

From the Dining Table

note: this is the first part of a drabble series that I’m planning to write inspired by songs. I don’t know how frequently this will be updated, it’s more of a when the mood strikes me kind of thing. this first drabble in inspired by Harry Styles’ from the dining table  ♥

Originally posted by lostinbangtan

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: angst

wordcount: 1.3k

“Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too.”


The amber coloured light that sifted in through the old window gave your bedroom a strange, melancholic feel. The dirty coloured glass diluted the pure light into something unclean, the strange hue it filled the place with made you want to pull the pillow over your head once more.

Early morning sunlight was always unforgiving, it never failed to expose what would rather remain unseen.

You knew that escaping into the darkness of your pillow wouldn’t truly resolve anything. The unpleasant light wasn’t the real problem.

By now you were certain your bedroom was cursed.

It was cursed with Park Jimin.

It was in here, on the very bed that you know lay your broken body, that he had slept. More than that, he had rested in these exact same sheets, the off white ones you hadn’t gotten around to washing yet.  And he had sat on your desk chair, and he’d picked up the small rusty trinkets that decorated various shelves and his fingers had glided across your large collection of DVDs. It was quite possible that there was not a single thing in this room that had not been infected by Park Jimin, yourself included.

Keep reading

More Regency AU! \o/

Now I know that so far there hasn’t been much interaction between Tony and Steve and Bucky, but there has been in the background! There have been chaperoned meetings where they make very stilted and awkward small talk. (Natasha chaperones as an alpha for Tony and Clint chaperones for Steve and Bucky. They gossip about how awful the ‘dates’ are going afterward and laugh and laugh.) Steve and Bucky quickly come to realize that Tony really doesn’t have much to talk about. He wasn’t allowed to do much when Obadiah came into power. He was often confined to his room where he read, and when he was allowed out, it was to meet and make nice with Obadiah’s flunkies. On the bright side, this means Tony is very good at dealing with people that he doesn’t like, which is a plus in politics. And Tony is especially well read because of all the time he was locked away with nothing but books for company.

(“Is—is Steven reading?” Sarah whispers, hand going to her chest in shock, because after being a bedridden child with nothing to do but read, Steve hated reading unless he had to. “I had thought he’d become allergic to books.”

“Anthony suggested it,” Bucky replies, amused. “He has little to speak about other than books, so Steven wants to be able to discuss them with him.”

Sarah clutches the string of pearls she’s wearing. “Anthony has gotten my son to read,” she whispers, impressed.)

But onto more angst. On the next morning after his arrival, Bruce approaches Tony with a chalice full of a dark green liquid, and tries to offer it to Tony, but he explains he’s already had his dose. Dry. Bruce raises an eyebrow, then looks at Tony’s plate and opens his mouth, then shuts it again with a sigh and scoops some more cut up fruit onto it. “You’ll take your doses in tea from now on,” he tells Tony, and then wrinkles his nose at the food on the table before he leaves. Tony blushes under the looks everyone’s giving him and barely manages to clear his plate in embarrassment. He eats all of the fruit though. And he obediently drinks the tea that Bruce brings him every morning.

(Sarah raises an eyebrow when Bruce requests an audience with her but accepts. “Is Anthony alright?”

“Anthony?” Bruce asks blankly, before realizing and saying, “Oh! Yes, of course. I actually came to ask about Ton—Anthony’s diet. All of your food is very… rich and hearty. He can’t eat a lot of it. Do you serve anything lighter?”

“I—” Sarah says, surprised, because it never occurred to her that this was something to worry about. “I don’t believe—no, we don’t. Please forgive this oversight. I will have the kitchens provide something lighter.” It pains her to think that Tony has been too uncomfortable to mention that he is unaccustomed to their food and would prefer food from his home country.

Tony has no idea why there are suddenly bowls of crisp garden greens on the table and a bowl of delicate broth at his seat but he eats gladly and for once doesn’t feel like he’s going to throw up after eating. Sarah wants to fuss and put more food on his plate but she has to admit that this is probably the most she’s ever seen him eat.)

Tony realizes his heat is coming up and he’s frightened, but he goes to Steve and Bucky with the information anyway. He waits for them to make their decision, sweat cold and clammy down his back as Steve and Bucky do that thing where they have a discussion with just their faces, lots of eyebrow movements, and then finally they turn, looking contrite, and say that they aren’t ready to bed him yet, especially—especially since Tony still isn’t accustomed to them touching him platonically yet. Tony is both relieved and guilty. So he asks where he should go. And they smile at him, baffled, and say that he doesn’t have to leave just because they’re not going to bed him. But Tony is terrified now, and the next morning asks Natasha where he’s supposed to go, and she raises an eyebrow at him, tells him to just stay in his room. Tony wants to throw up with how frightened he is and seeks audience with Queen Sarah who is bemused because her soon-to-be son-in-law doesn’t have to ask for an official audience with her—but that bemusement turns to horror when Tony bursts into tears and asks where he’s supposed to go, the guards gave him dirty looks when he asked about dungeons and Steve and Bucky don’t want to bed him.

(“Sweetheart,” Sarah gasps, gathering Tony to her chest, clutching at him as he sobs into her shoulder, running a hand through his hair. “Honey, what’s wrong? Take a deep breath, there you go. There now, you’re alright. What is this about?”

“Steven and James don’t want to bed me but no one will tell me where you keep omegas in heat!” Tony wails. “I can’t just go into heat in my room, someone will smell it, they’ll come in and take me-!”

Darling,” Sarah gasps, leaning back, cupping Tony’s cheeks so he has to look up at her. “Why would you think that?”

“That’s what they told me,” Tony explains miserably. “Alphas—they’ll smell when I go into heat and they won’t be able to help themselves-! And I won’t be able to protect myself, I’ll just have to take it. I was—they always put me in a cell away from the other prisoners when I went into heat, so no one would smell me. But when I was asking where your cells were, the guards—they got so mad at me, I—I just want to be a good omega for my future husbands. They won’t want a used omega, why won’t anyone tell me where to go—

“Anthony,” Sarah whispers, heartbroken, using her thumbs to wipe away his tears. “Oh, Anthony, no. No, my sweet darling.”

She holds him as he cries and cries because he’s so frightened and no one will help him, no one understands that he’s scared and wants help even though he’s specifically asked for it, does this mean that no one cares about what happens to him?

And Sarah cries a little as well, because she hadn’t realized how frightened this poor boy had been behind his smiles, and she wonders how many other lies were put in his head about his own body.)

Oh, sweet Jesus, I just had a vision of what it would be like the first time Rosaline saw Benvolio fitted out in a full suit of armor. 

Don’t Look Back (ACOTAR AU) - Part 11

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18Part 19

“You really didn’t need to put on a dress,” Rhys said, as he shifted gears. Rhys was already regretting everything, which was a recurring theme when involving his family and Feyre Archeron. From a young age, his father had always been a looming presence over his shoulder, pushing and prodding, to be shaped into a mould of the son of a rich business man which his father expected him to follow. He remembered telling his dad a couple of months ago he wanted to take English Lit at Uni, the aftermath involved a couple of months of being ignored and talked down upon – all because Damien Spera believed that if Rhys wasn’t doing either business, economics or law, then there is no hope for a future. Yes, his father was that guy. It wasn’t a favourable position that Rhys wanted to keep. He wanted his dad’s favour back, and hopefully a nice fake girlfriend would help regain it.

He had texted the Spera family group chat while Feyre was getting ready (excluding said Father) to let them know.

Rhys: Feyre is being my fake girlfriend thanks to Lena and her meddling.

Lena: ur welcome x

Mum: please don’t fight tonight u two xxx

Cass: well little brother she was kind of telling the truth. It wasn’t rlly meddling

Az: apart from telling father that Feyre was his gf.

Cass: yeah obvs apart from that

Rhys: why am I doing this. I should tell her just to stay home

Mor: but u aren’t because you actually want Feyre as ur gf even if it is fake. And u want to get in ur fathers good books again…….sooooooooo

Keep reading

Sweaty (Part 2)

Summary: The tension snaps ;)

Word Count: 3414

Warnings: S M U T, oral (m & f receiving), barely nsfw gif

Part 1


As you make your way to the elevator, you bite your lip, suppressing the giant smile that wants to stick to your face. Unfortunately Bucky notices this, and obviously decides to call you on it. “Why the smile doll? Is it about me?” You cock an eyebrow at him, shaking your head as you press the elevator button.

Deciding to remain silent was a good choice, since Bucky seems to take it as a challenge. “So now we’re not talkin’? I see how it is.” He steps closer behind you, pressing his bare chest to your back. Resting his chin on your forehead, the elevator door dings, and smoothly slides open.

After stepping on, you smile innocently at Bucky and subtly gesture to the security camera with your head. He nods at you and presses the button, feigning causality as the elevator hums.

When you reach your floor, you step off the elevator and turn to Bucky, gesturing at his chest. “I don’t think you’d want to go to dinner shirtless, so I suggest you go change. I’ll see you there?”

You begin strolling to the dining room, but a small “Wait!” Makes you stop walking and turn around. “Yes Bucky?” He smirks and walks to you, gently grabbing your wrist. “Come with me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you’re tempted give in. An idea crosses your mind, and you decide to tease Bucky further.  

Without speaking, you press your lips to Bucky’s, using your hands to push his shoulders and moving your bodies to the side of the hall. Backing him up against the wall, you smile as he immediately responds, resting his hands on your waist.

You kiss him fiercely, the both of you fighting for dominance as your tongues clash. Moving a hand to the back of his head, you push him even closer, just as he uses the hands on your waist to press you against him.

You grind against his body, eliciting a small groan as you feel his growing erection press into your stomach. He moans into your mouth, hands moving down to cup your ass. Then, you pull away. His moan turns to a small whine, and you laugh breathlessly at his reaction.

He looks at you with confused eyes, his adorable pout almost making you feel guilty. 

Almost.

You look at him cluelessly, watching him go from perplexion to disbelief, nearly losing your composure. His lips part and he gasps, shaking his head as you begin to step away. “You- no way.” You scrunch your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side and you begin to walk to the dining room. “What are you talking about?”

Just as you’re about to leave earshot, you hear Bucky’s dark chuckle, then words that fill you with adrenaline. “You’re gonna pay for that.”


Dinner’s been pretty uneventful. Aside from the occasional glance of suspicion from Steve, no one’s done or said anything about you and Bucky. He’s been narrowing his eyes at you amusedly, and you can practically see he gears turning in his head as he formulates a plan. You feel the excitement build up, barely able to stop the reddening of your cheeks as your eyes flash with possible images of what will occur tonight.

As you clear away your plate, you notice that the kitchen’s become eerily quiet. Everyone’s already put their dishes in the sink, it being Pietro’s night to do them, to which he said he’d come down and do them later. You hear padded footsteps walk up behind you, not being alarmed in the slightest as you know who it is.

Bucky’s hands rest on your waist, and he leans down to talk quietly into your ear. “Whatcha thinking about?” You smirk, wanting to know just how far you can push his buttons. “Pietro.” You say nonchalantly, placing your cleared plate in the sink as you’re spun around to be met by blue, dilated eyes.

“What was that?” Bucky has a shirt on, but that doesn’t stop you from checking him out. You pull him against you, leaning up to whisper into his ear. “I said, I was thinking about Pietro.” His eyes darken, and before you know it you’re being spun around again, your back to Bucky’s chest.

“I’m gonna make you forget all about him, doll.” You feel his hands go to your waist, pressing you up against his crotch. Arching your back, your push yourself against Bucky’s growing erection and elicit a small groan. One hand plants itself on your right hip, while the other snakes around to the waistband of your pants.

Your breath catches in your throat as Bucky hooks two fingers around your pants and dances them on your skin. The hand on your waist slowly slides up your side, not stopping until it goes under your bra and cups your right breast. He softly tweaks the nipple, then gradually moves his left hand further into your pants.

The cold metal is a new sensation against your hot skin, and feels amazing as he cups your panties. You let out a small, breathy, moan gasping again as you feel one metal finger hook into your underwear, glazing over your wet slit.

You clench your jaw, tilting your head back and moaning through a closed mouth as Bucky continues to tease your nipple, moving across your chest to latch onto the other one. “Still thinking about him?” He hums, moving his metal finger onto your clit, pressing lightly against it.

He doesn’t give you any friction, just pressing lightly enough for you to squirm. You move your hips to gain friction, but as soon as you move you’re pressed up against the counter even more, the pressure on your clit becoming harder.

“I asked,” Bucky pushes his finger tightly up against your bundle of nerves and begins sliding the cold finger up and down, and you let out a muffled moan, not wanting to get unwanted attention. “Still thinkin’ about him?” You open your mouth, unable to move your hips but gasping loudly at the rhythm Bucky was still drawing on your clit, moving his cold metal finger up and down painfully slowly.

“N-no Bucky, all for you.” You can feel his breath pick up, and he removes the finger from your panties, much to your audible protest. He chuckles darkly, attacking your neck with kisses you’re sure will leave marks. Spinning you around, Bucky picks you up by your thighs.

You get the message and wrap your legs around his waist, subtly grinding yourself against his crotch. Groaning, he briefly squeezes his eyes shut but soon regains composure. You feel Bucky walking you down the hall, but can’t be bothered to look at your surroundings, instead focusing on kissing his jawline.

Hearing a door open, you break away and recognize Bucky’s room, moving back to stare at the hickeys you’ve left on his neck and jawline. “You sure you want to go through with this?” Bucky looks skeptical, softly placing you back onto the floor. Leaning up, you place a deep, sensual kiss on his lips, staring him directly in the eyes before speaking.

“I’m sure.”

You find Bucky’s confident stance comes back, the small grin returning to his face as he gives your ass a small squeeze. You reach behind him and push the door shut, only to be pushed up against the wood itself. A surprised gasp leaves your mouth, but you stay where you are.

“You think what I did in the kitchen was something? Just wait…” Bucky groans into your ear, hooking his thumbs around the waistband of your pants and tugging them down. You respond with a hum of affection, breathing heavily as he pulls the material down to your knees, leaving you in your underwear.

Bucky’s cold hands go to your waist, contrasting to your warm skin as he slides them under your shirt. They travel up your body, not stopping until they cup your bra. Quietly whining, you encourage Bucky to do something. He laughs, reaching his metal hand underneath your bra to cup your breast, experimentally flicking the nipple.

Gasping, you lean into the touch by pushing out your chest. His right hand slides around your body and goes to the small of your back, trying to gently pull off your underwear with a single hand. This doesn’t work, causing Bucky to let out a frustrated growl.

You giggle, only further annoying him. He wraps a tight fist around the material, ripping it off and discarding it onto the floor. “Bucky!” You scold, “I really liked that pair.” He spins you around, piercing your gaze with determined eyes. “Let me make it up to you.”

You don’t get to ask how before you’re picked up again, walked to the bed bridal style and set down so that your legs hang off the foot of the bed. Bucky grins mischievously at you, pulling your pants off the rest of the way before holding your knees, spreading you legs apart quickly.

A rush of cool air hits your core, eliciting from you what sounds like a gasp and a moan. You try to pull down your shirt, but Bucky stops you by taking that off as well, leaving you sitting there in nothing but a bra. Feeling subconscious, you try to close your legs, but Bucky’s already buried his face between them.

He places his palms on your kneecaps, keeping you spread out for him as he peppers light kisses on your inner thighs, watching in awe as you contact around nothing. “B-Bucky- oh!” You let out a high pitched moan, immediately clamping a hand over your mouth as he teases your entrance with his tongue.

“Don’t hold back baby, I wanna hear you.” He groans into your pussy, paying no attention to your throbbing clit as Bucky slides his in tongue as far as he can go, setting a quick pace as he repeats his movements. You’re unable to form sentences as you let out incoherent moans and whimpers, slowly grinding your hips.

“Oh doll you taste so good,” Bucky slides his hands from your knees up your thighs, spreading your lips as more air hits your core. “Makin’ all those pretty little noises for me.” You don’t bother trying to muffle your moans, allowing your eyes to roll back into your head.

Bucky suddenly stops his ministrations, looking up at you seductively as he wipes his chin. A devious smirk takes over his features, leaving you to tilt your head to the side just as he takes you by surprise. He uses both of his hands to part your swollen lips again, placing small kisses near your entrance and making his way up to your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

You gasp loudly, the breath leaving your lungs as you recover with a groan, involuntarily jerking your hips forward multiple times as Bucky doesn’t hold back, ceasing his sucking but keeping his lips where they are. Instead of sucking on your clit, he uses his tongue, pressing harshly onto your bundle of nerves and vigorously swishing back and forth, pressing his face as close to your pussy as possible.

Just when you think it can’t get any better, you feel Bucky’s right arm wrap itself underneath your thigh, lifting your knee onto his shoulder. Two metal digits press into you, going as deep as possible. They don’t move, only providing cold contrast to the warm of Bucky’s mouth as you clench around them.

Suddenly they start moving, taking you by surprise as he pumps his fingers in and out of you as fast as possible, creating an almost vibrating sensation as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching, the leg hooked over Bucky’s shoulder flexing out.

“Come on doll, I know you’ve got it in ‘ya, I love the way you’re clenching around my fingers, can’t wait ‘till I’m inside you.” He coaxes you over the edge, every breath you take accompanied by a moan as you feel your chest rising and falling fast, your muscles going limp. You fall back against your elbows, making eye contact with Bucky’s smug grin.

Finding the energy to sit up, you reach behind yourself to unclip your bra. It falls onto your lap, and you waste no time tossing it onto the floor. You quickly change your position, moving so that you’re kneeling on the mattress, your chest eye level with Bucky.

His eyes fixate on your breasts, until you use a finger to beckon him to stand. As he moves to stand on his feet, you grab him by the material of his shirt, swiftly falling onto your back as he lets out a yelp of surprise, collapsing right on top of you.

With your newfound energy, you roll over so that you’re on top of Bucky, his erection pressing into your thigh. “You’re sneaky.” He states, but it soon silenced as you grind your bare core against his clothed cock. His head falls back against the pillow and he groans, hands immediately gripping your hips.

Straddling one of his thighs, you tug at the hem of his shirt, managing to pull it up halfway up his body before he abruptly sits up. His shirt comes off faster than you can blink, and his hands move to hold your upper back as you connect your lips to his.

Your tongues brush against each other as you battle for dominance, but the fight is soon forgotten as you feel his prominent erection. Pushing him back onto the bed, you place kisses all the way down his body, starting from his neck.

You nip and suck, earning small mewls and whimpers from such a tough 'alpha’ male turning you on to an extent you didn’t even know existed. Getting to his stomach, you rise up and sit back on your heels. Tucking your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, you pull them down, tugging them off completely and throwing them over your shoulder.

Bucky groans, holding the bedsheets tightly in his fists as you trace the hem of his boxers, watching in satisfaction as his eyes squeeze shut. Pulling them off, you make sure to make direct eye contact before dropping them on the floor next to you, biting your lip as you duck your head down.

Tracing Bucky’s v-line with your teeth, you smile as he moans, then moving your head and dragging the tip of your tongue from the base of his cock to the tip. Taking the tip into your mouth, you apply might pressure, flicking the slit with your tongue.

“Oh doll- that feels so good.” He gasps through his groans, the only thing bugging you being his closed eyes. Tapping his wrist, you sink down inch by inch, holding what little your mouth hasn’t touched with your hand. Bucky opens his eyes, and you make sure to wink at him before hollowing out your cheeks, quickening your pace as you bob your head.

Bucky encourages you, groaning out nearly inaudible phrases as you moan around his cock, knowing the vibrations will be that much more pleasurable for him. “Baby wait,” You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you slowly rise off his pulsing member, your mouth coming off with a pop.

“I don’t want to come yet.” Bucky sits up and leans back on his elbows, and you rise from your position, looking around the room. “What’s wrong doll?” He examines your facial expression, your slight pout and barely raised eyebrow nearly making him lose control.

“Do you have any condoms?” You bite your lip, mentally crossing your fingers. “Uh… Yeah, I think so. Check the drawer? Sam got 'em as a gag gift a few weeks ago.” He explains, so you reach over Bucky and go into the bedside drawer, sighing in relief when you find a box.

Your breasts dangle in Bucky’s face, so he decides to tease you by taking a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. You laugh and moan at the same time, slapping Bucky’s shoulders as you situate yourself on top of him.

Tearing the condom wrapper, you pull it out. You take your sweet time rolling it onto Bucky, watching as his hips jerk forward. He gently slaps your ass, then placing a hand on the small of your back and flipping you so that he’s on top.

“You ready?” Bucky teases you, biting his lip and rubbing his cock between your folds. You arch your back, wrapping your legs around his waist as you nod frantically, leaning up to kiss him one last time. “Y-yes Bucky.”

With that, he slowly pushes the head into you, the both of you hissing out as his muscles strain. You encourage him to go further, leaning up to kiss his jaw. Bucky complies, sinking in inch by inch as he bottoms out. He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing heavily.

You give a testing roll of your hips, watching with a smirk as Bucky moans. “Need you to move.” You groan, tightening your legs around his waist. He begins to thrust, pulling out until the tip is barely there before going back in, all at an antagonizing pace.

Just as you’re about to protest, Bucky pulls out completely, pecking you on the lips before slamming back in. “Oh!” You gasp, bringing your hands up to Bucky’s back. He pulls out excruciatingly slow, then slams back in so hard you can feel the bed creaking.

Bucky groans, watching as your eyes flutter shut, your moans filling the air. He sets a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you as both your sounds of pleasure play like music to each other’s ears. You capture his lips in a kiss, whimpering onto his tongue as you hook your leg tighter around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper inside of you.

You throw your head back, mouth dropping open. “Oh, Bucky!” He quickens his pace, and you feel both yourself and him nearing the edge. Using the leg hooked around him, you flip yourself so that you’re on top, Bucky’s hands flying to your waist and slamming you onto him, and you have to brace yourself by gripping the headboard.

The loudest moan you’ve released the entire night leaves your mouth, so Bucky thinks ahead and rips your hand from the headboard, intertwining your fingers as he kisses you with passion. He grunts into your mouth, groaning as you push onto his hand, pressing it onto the mattress.

You muffle each other’s moans, gradually building up to both of your releases. Breaking away and sloppily kissing his neck, Bucky grunts out loud and mewls, calling out barely coherent words. “Come on doll, love the way you’re taking me all in, you look so beautiful right now.”

You raise your head up and make eye contact with Bucky, whimpering noises of affection as he communicates with you through eye contact. The hand on your waist tightens, his hips thrusting into you at a spot that makes you gasp.

“Yes Bucky, right there! Oh my god that feels so good, oh god I’m so close,” You cry out, not considering your neighbouring rooms, especially Steve, who is in the one right next door.

Bucky grunts, jaw dropping open as the two of you finally reach your mind-blowing release, the both of you coming to a gradual standstill. He sits up, wrapping his arms around your waist and rolling over, still pulsing inside of you as you both hiss.

Slowly pulling out, he drops onto the pillow to your left. Laying there, you try to catch your breath as Bucky turns his head to look at you, a chuckle erupting from his chest.

“What?” You copy his laugh, looking at him with a playful smile.

“I’m just really glad we did that.” Bucky grins cheekily, turning around and dumping the condom into the garbage can next to his bed. You scoot over and place a kiss on his shoulder blade, squealing in surprise when he whips around and pulls you into him.

Leaning into his touch, you wrap an arm over his torso and rest your head on his chest, previous activities tiring you. Bucky feels sleep taking over, and wraps his arms around you before shutting his eyes, his heartbeat soon pulling you to slumber.

Just before you fall unconscious, you hear Bucky grumble.

“G'night doll.”


A/N: *fans face* i really enjoyed writing that, let me know what you thought! i’m thinking of doing a third and final part, maybe a quick morning after thing? anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

Tags: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed) @onelovewonderwoman @cutie1365 @nadtandy @bexboo616 @myboyfriendgiriboy @redcresent @juliagolia87