Bucky Barnes fucking you slow and deep while Steve Rogers sketches the two of you. He has an entire sketchbook to fill up, so get ready for lots of various positions and late nights.

Oh, you lovelies are into this? 😏

This will never leave my brain btw

an afternoon of pumpkin picking

pairing: sugar daddy!ransom drysdale x sugar baby!female reader

summary: you've convinced your sugar daddy to take you pumpkin picking—despite his reservations about spending any amount of time on a farm—and the perfectly autumnal date takes a turn when deeper feelings come to light.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, smut, unprotected sex, masturbation (f), guided masturbation, piv sex, outdoor sex, creampie, filming/recording/taking sexual photos, oral sex (m receiving), light bdsm, free use, pussy spanking, panty sniffing, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (nixie, baby), love confessions (a bit of idiots in love), aftercare, happy ending, so much fluff

word count: 11.6k

a/n: this fic is inspired by this exchange about various babes as sugar daddies taking their sugar babies on fall dates. i loved the idea of ransom being a little grumpy about going pumpkin picking, and then it morphed into this because i decided i wanted to explore their deeper emotional connection so uh it ended up being a lot longer than i expected. but it's also very cozy and smutty and fluffy and perfect for this time of year!!! anyway, i had fun writing this, so i hope y'all enjoy reading it!!

Can’t believe you talked me into this.

The text from your sugar daddy, Ransom Drysdale, arrived on a brisk September morning as you were getting ready for the perfectly autumnal date you’d convinced him to plan. As you read the message, you could practically hear the affectionate exasperation in his tone, which made you smile to yourself.

It had taken quite a bit of your powers of persuasion to get Ransom Drysdale—the heir to the Blood Like Wine Publishing dynasty and the most blue-blooded Boston man you’d ever met—to agree to take you pumpkin picking out in the “boonies,” as he called anywhere beyond the city limits that wasn’t his “ancestral estate” (also his words). 

But since you’d been seeing him for over a year, you knew all of Ransom’s weaknesses. And you’d used them to make a deal with your sugar daddy.

best randsom fic EVER holy shit

many of you will have seen this post regarding @urfavtwat urfavtwat so just to update you all (and to discredit his post in response to my post).

he's engaged. he's got a real life girlfriend and they've been together since 2019/2020. they got engaged this february. i've spoken with her. don't bother trying to contact him to call him out as well, that won't achieve anything else.

so to all the people that are still interacting with this man, hope you enjoy aiding and abetting cheating 🤙

Hi, some of you might have seen the post I made this weekend about my boyfriend. I have deleted it since because I'm just trying to forget this as fast as possible, but now I've seen all these things I also kinda wanna share my story.

We ("urfavtwat" and I) met on here 6 months ago, back in November. In February I was in the mental hospital, dealing with a lot of things and we talked more and more until he asked me to take it to WhatsApp. That's when we started talking daily. In March I asked him if there were any other girls he was talking to and he said no. We started calling sporadically and he said he wanted to end up with me but because he was so busy trying to buy a house and with work so I had to be patient with him. Which I was.

In April we met up. I am not from the UK, but some of my friends are so I visited them and that weekend we went on a date. I had never had a boyfriend. I had never been in love. I had only been kissed once. I struggle with physical intimacy and trust due to trauma. He knew all of this. He picked me up in his car and we drove around for a while. We sat in that car together for hours just talking about everything and nothing. We hugged a few times and on the drive back I told him he could put his hand on my leg. He smiled at me and I had never felt as safe or comfortable with a man in my entire life as the moment I held his hand. When he dropped me off, we kissed. I told him it was my first kiss in 3 years and my second kiss ever. He told me he hadn't kissed anyone in years either. That night he texted me some of the sweetest messaged I have ever received. That he was feeling all nice inside and that his heart felt full. That our kiss felt so intimate and special and that we "just fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces". He said he told his friends about me and that they were so happy for him.

After that we started facetiming everyday. After a few weeks I told him I loved him and he told me he loved me too and asked me to officially become his girlfriend. Over the course of two months we built up a routine. Facetime calls every morning on his way to work and every night on his way home, sometimes before the gym and texts throughout the day. We talked about our days and random life updates. I proudly told my friends and family that it had finally happened for me. I had finally found my person.

A few weeks ago we started planning our summer. I would visit him in June and he would visit me in July. I booked flights and a hotel. I busted my ass trying to find random jobs to make money for what he called "the foreign boyfriend fund". I happily told him that was my favourite fund and he called me his hard-working baby. He told me he loved me every day. And how much he was looking forward to spending time with me again this summer. He knew I was (and still am) a virgin and he told me he would never pressure me to do anything. That that wasn't what it was about. He said he just wanted me, that that was all he needed. He said he couldn't wait to "make love to me" when I was ready and hold me close and make me feel safe and protected.

The last time I talked to him was last Friday. We called before he went to the gym and he texted me 5 minutes after we hung up. "I love you". I said I loved him too and that I hoped he had a good time at a gym before saying goodnight. "I love you so much" he said again. I told him we were a great team and that I was so proud to be his girlfriend and he said yes, we are a good team. He said I was always so supportive. And I was.

Saturday I woke up and texted him good morning before work. When I got home that night I saw that my message still hadn't been delivered and I got worried. I started to panic. My mom asked me what was wrong and I just cried. "I can't lose him, mom. What if something happened?" that night I slept in my moms bed and she held me while I cried. I checked my phone every hour.

Sunday morning I tried calling him again before finally opening my laptop and doing a deep dive. Barely 30 minutes later my entire world crumbled. There he was. My boyfriend. Standing with his finacé by his side at their engagement party, the night before we met. The night before our date. The night before we kissed. I called my friends in tears and they immediately came over. We contacted his fiancé and that was that.

Monday I called his work. I wanted closure. I felt like I deserved some kind of explanation. He said he couldn't give me any. What he did could not be fixed and nothing he could do or say would undo it. I asked him if it was all fake. All the phonecalls and the I love you's. He said yes. "Yes, it was all fake. There was some truth to things I said about my past, but anything regarding emotions and feelings was fake. Im sorry. It was all fake it was false, it was all lies and deceit."

He payed me back for the trip and that was that. I came home and my suitcase was staring me right in the face. With tears streaming down my face I unpacked the few things I had already put in it. The shame I felt when I put away the lingerie I bought for him was gut-wrenching.

Today is Wednesday. Im sat at my college campus typing this. I just finished an exam and cried some more. I still can't believe any of this. I thought after everything I have been through in my life, I had finally found my peace, my person. I thought I had finally found a man who made me feel loved and safe enough to actually build something with, to be intimate with, to be with. And it was all fake.

Im trying to focus on my exams and my friends. I really am just trying to forget this ever happened, but the pain I feel now is unlike anything I have ever felt before. Every morning around 9:30 I wonder if he is thinking about me on his drive to work. Every night at 10 I wonder if he is at the gym. And every minute of every day I replay all the hours of phonecalls and all the texts in my head and I wonder how someone could ever be so cruel.

I have come across everything that has to do with ‘urfavtwat’ and I’m horrified. I am absolutely stunned… I don’t even know how to process all that I now know…

I have been holding onto this for so long to the point where it has been on my mind constantly and has been effecting my mental health...

I have been hesitant on sharing my story that involves ‘urfavtwat’ mainly because I just didn’t know what to say… I was in such shock. I am still in a bit of shock because what this man has done to all these women including myself is… sickening.

First of all I wanna say I am SO sorry that you had to experience this. No one deserves to be lied to and hurt like this.

I got this notification that my post had been reblogged with a story again and for a moment my stomach dropped. I hesitated if I even wanted to read it...but curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't really planning on speaking about this on here ever again, but I just felt like sharing a couple things...

5 months have passed since this happened to me, and I can honestly say I'm doing better than I have in years. When I met him I was at my lowest, and I thought he was some kind of good karma that I was getting for all the pain that I'd experienced in the passed, I idolized him and saw him as some kind of savior. And in a way he really was lol, cause what he did was equally the worst and best thing that's ever happened to me.

When I found out, the entire thing broke me. I was so scared that it was gonna push me back down that hole that I had JUST crawled out of, but I'm happy to say the opposite happened. It genuinely opened my eyes.

Because of him, I've been able to process so much trauma I was holding onto. It me realize there is nothing wrong with ME, some people are just fucked up. I am NOT unloveable, some people are just sick in the fucking head.

In the passed 5 months I've grown out my hair, I've travelled, I've gained so much more respect and love for myself, I've gained so much confidence. This week I'm going on a date again for the first time and I'm beyond excited!

Sometimes I wish I got go back in time to 5 months ago and tell myself it's all gonna be just fine....and I guess that's why I'm reblogging this again. For everyone who went through something similar with him or with someone else...ITS GOING TO BE JUST FINE! There's nothing wrong with you, you didn't do anything to deserve what happened, you are not unlovable or dumb or naive, nor should you feel shame.

Some people are fucked in the head, and they will use your trauma and your past experiences against you to manipulate you and you know what? That doesn't make you naive for opening up to them in the first place, being able to love and let someone in is a beautiful thing!

5 months ago the only thing I wanted was my time back. I was so angry and I felt like I had wasted so much time. I was so upset that I had given him so much of my love, that I had allowed him to be the first man to ever receive that love from me...I wanted it all back, I wanted to erase it cause it made me feel so ashamed.

Now I look back on it and you know what I think? That I am SO PROUD of myself for opening up to someone the way that I did, and for giving them so much of my love and warmth and care. I don't regret it at all! I just feel sad for him that he was too damaged to feel it.

He can scam a hundred more girls and women into giving them all the love in the world, and it still won't be enough to fill up the giant hole in his heart.

whew...anyway, needed to get that off my chest I guess lol

2024: the year of growing your hair out

werewolf & vampire?

Never had a thing

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

I never posted on Tumblr. Is this okay? Anyways, Simon Riley brain rot. That's it. That's the post. Also, you can find this on AO3.

Part 1 >> Part 2

Summary: Simon has to lie low and go dark for an undefined period of time. While trudging along the unbearably long, dark alley that's his life, he finds the light at the end of tunnel, and it's shaped like you. 18+

Word count: 10k CW: smutty!!! jealous Simon Riley BECAUSE I honestly crave that. Soft Simon Riley because I crave that as well.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

Simon had groaned like a battered dog when Price gave him the news that he needed to lie low. “Someone in Konni’s got your name” he’d said. “We don’t wanna take any risks. Just for a few weeks.”

He was sure those few weeks would turn into a few bloody months if he didn’t get a move on. For that, he’d hastily packed his things from the poor excuse of a flat the army had granted him, and started looking for a place to stay that wasn’t in Manchester.

Initially, Simon almost fantasized about buying his own flat. Maybe a piece of land and fulfill the wishes of the outcast that he was – living away from people, giving them the same treatment they’ve always given him.

Too bad he was legally dead. He had nothing to his name if not a grave that didn’t even exist, all his possessions were cursed memories and metaphorical things – a rank he didn’t hold, a flat that wasn’t his. Even his name barely pertained to him anymore.

The SAS wasn’t offering any accommodation, the tightwads. He couldn't buy a house, or rent one. He couldn't lean on any of his teammates, or he'd put them in danger – he wouldn't do it, not to them. Taint their lives with his name and the death it inevitably brings.

Price had helped him settle in a glorified motorway hotel. But he wasn’t picky – after all, he only had to stay for a few weeks.

A few days into his exile, he’d entered a Tesco with his head bowed and his hood on, a surgical mask on his face. A pack of Marlboro was all he wanted since the dodgy motel he was staying at (hiding) didn’t care if he smoked within the room. Plus, he reckoned that the smell of nicotine and combustion was a much better alternative to the rancid stench of mold.

However, as he plucked ten quid from his wallet, his eyes absently fell on a bulletin board behind the store clerk. There were tons of leaflets there: missing cats or dogs, people looking for a job or offering one. And then, a bright yellow paper caught his eye. Whoever printed it lacked taste but sure as hell knew how to catch one’s attention. He’d stopped in his tracks, a tenner between two fingers.

DESPERATE!!! PhD STUDENT LOOKING FOR A FLATMATE. NO SPECIFIC GENDER OR AGE AS LONG AS YOU CAN PAY RENT ON TIME. Two-bedroom flat, third floor, no elevator. If interested, please contact this number.

At the end of the flyer, the paper was cut into tear-off strips, so that interested individuals could rip the section with the phone number.

He liked that first word: desperate. He wondered if this person was as desperate as he was. Would they accept a man who wore a balaclava and looked proper sketchy? How desperate were they, really, if he asked to rent on verbal agreement – no contracts, no signatures whatsoever?

He decided he wanted to test that before he died of mold poisoning.

This is LITERATURE are u kidding omfg

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

I need y'all to see how this porn spelled ménage à trois

Idk, I think the spelling adds a certain junuh say qwa

Keeping it tactical ✔️

Oh my fucking god i have NEVER wanted a man so bad. Fuck me

omg i-

this is from our wedding album actually