Latest Posts by therisingaelia - Page 2

Can you write #29 with Tom 🥺

❀ home to you ❀

prompts: (29) “honey, i’m home!”

↳ established relationship, my #1 fantasy in writing, tessa steals the show as usual

word count: 829

note: girl i haven’t written anything in over a month and i’m stressed abt this, lmk what you think 🥺

flufftober drabbles (requests are closed!)

From the first day you and Tom spent in this new home, you’d commented on the annoyingly squeaky front door. It shrieks like a cat under attack at the slightest movement and is the subject of many banters between you two. Not unlike a married couple from a 90s sitcom, both of you refused to be the one to fix it, with Tom contending you should do it as you work from home while he travels, and you arguing he’d promised to do it himself first as he’s already got a background in carpentry. Thankfully, the hectic nature of your lives in the past few months have put this tiff on the backburner.

Now, though, a tiny part of you find yourself glad the door still squeals whenever it’s moved. There’s something about the flash of excitement you get when you hear it, the little frog in your chest that jumps at the realisation that Tom’s home. From your laid down position on the couch, a comforting romance book balanced over your head, your ears pick up on it immediately.

Except tonight, it’s a murmur. Hell, if your ears weren’t practically pointed up like an excited dog’s you probably wouldn’t have heard it. The three words come out faint and tired, drooping from the weight on Tom’s shoulders.

Except tonight, it’s a murmur. Hell, if your ears weren’t practically pointed up like an excited dog’s you probably wouldn’t have heard it. The three words come out faint and tired, drooping from the weight on Tom’s shoulders.

Concerned, you slip a library receipt between the pages of your book and get up, making sure you don’t wake Tessa who’s still sleeping by your feet. With a blanket still wrapped around your figure like a makeshift poncho, you quickly shuffle towards the front door. Tom has just crossed the entrance hallway into the living room, where he nearly bumps into your cocooned figure.

“Hey, darl—”

“What’s wrong?” You cut him off, eyes wide like those of a Disney character.

Perplexed, Tom freezes for a moment before his wonky eyebrow curls to meet the other. “Why, what happened?” He asks, a concerned expression making his thin lips furrow into a tiny little line. You yearn to reach up and kiss it away, but that’s for another time, when your stomach hasn’t dropped to your feet.

“You tell me.” You reply, shrugging off the blanket and wrapping it around your boyfriend’s broad shoulders. “You didn’t say it. Not like you usually do.”

Upon reflex, he burrows into the quilt, sighing as your hands rub up and down his arms. “Love, it’s been a long day, the flight back home was torture. and I have no clue what you’re saying.”

Your mouth twists into a pout and you coo, stepping forward to properly hug your boy. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry you had a tough day.” His arms slither around your waist, a cold hand slipping beneath your shirt to press itself flat against your spine. “Do you want to sit down? Or I can fix you a shower—but you’re probably starving, there’s leftovers in the oven. I’ll warm it up, unless you want to order something fresh—I saw this new shawarma place on—”

The coldness of his palms cupping your cheeks cuts you off, and you blink as you find Tom’s eyes, the corners crinkling tiredly in an endeared smile. “Baby, breathe.” He inhales deeply with you, knowing how easily overwhelmed you get, and you release your breaths together, shoulders relaxing. “I already ate, I’m too tired to shower, and the only thing I need right now,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose, “is my girl.”

Heat blooms in your stomach like a spring garden, and you wrap your arms around him once more, squeezing his torso tightly. With just as much strength, Tom hugs you back, his chin resting on your crown.

“Smooth talker,” you murmur into his overcoat, “you know how much that term affects me. S’not fair.”

His chest vibrates with laughter against your cheek and he gives you a good squeeze just for the sake of it. “How about I make it up to you by volunteering to take your pants off for you and then we see where that goes?”

The sound of his laughter as you step away from him unimpressed wakes Tessa up, and soon enough her short legs flop onto the floor with overexcitement. Colour flushes back into Tom’s skin, and he crouches down to accept the dog’s greeting, one of his hands scratching her ear and the other smoothing down her fur.

“Hi, honey, I’m home.” He coos, grinning as she licks his neck and chin, and you’re pretty if he had a tail, his would be wagging too. “Yes, princess, daddy’s home.”

Deadpan, you glare down at him with your arms crossed. “Bitch…”

I just think that if one time, while they are engaged, Peach called Baker Bucky hubbby on accident, his brain would short-circuit 😂🥰

Summary: Bucky loves the fact that he's going to be your husband

Pairing: Chubby Baker Bucky x Reader

CW: Bucky being LoveStruck.

A/N: Written on my phone.

Bucky's chatting with the farmer in front of his stall, balancing a wicker basket of freshly harvested plums on his hip. Every so often, his gaze strays to the left, his warm blue eyes drifting up and down your bundled-up body.

A smile tugs at his lips because he's the only one in this market who knows that underneath your oversized coat, his sweater (that you stole just as he was about to put it on), and those pants that make him want to bite one of your cheeks, you're wearing his marks like they're your favorite jewels.

You're not far away, standing in a booth covered in handcrafted plushies, knick-knacks and holiday ornaments. Although if he's being honest, any distance away from him is too far. So he ends the conversation, telling Frank he'll be back next week to try out his apricots.

Five long strides and he's within earshot of you.

"I have to get this, it reminds me so much of my husband. Soon to be anyway," you laugh, picking up the miniature stuffed bear wearing a baker's hat and holding a tiny croissant. "He's going to love this."

Bucky feels his heart stop. It hits his ribcage and stops right in his chest. Emotions billow inside him, warming more than the autumn sun ever could. His grip loosens on the basket, a few plums hitting the tall, damp grass with a faint plop.

Husband. He likes the sound of it on your lips. Your husband. He's going to be your husband.

You turn your head, a smile forming. "Bucky are you alright?"

"No. Yes. I-yes," he stammers out, closing the distance between you, his hands reaching for your face. He's disoriented and he knows he's not making sense but the part of brain that's still functioning knows it wants you, needs you right now.

"Wha-Bucky!" You quickly grab the handle of his basket, saving the rest of his plums. You have seconds to slide the basket onto the booth and then his lips are on yours.

The kiss is—well you understand what people mean when they say time stopped because that's how it feels with his soft lips molding over yours, his large hands cupping your face, your fingers sliding through his hair.

He's passionate and desperate and sinfully sweet. His kiss leads to another and another. Around the seventh time he slides his lips over yours, you decide you can easily spend the rest of your life kissing this man.

But you are blocking Sarah's booth and is she—yeah she's taking a picture, you and Bucky are going to be the talk of her bingo night. You break the kiss, leaning back when he instinctively follows you with a low displeased groan like you just snatched his favorite dessert from him.

"C'mere," he mumbles. "Just one more Peach."

Moving to your tiptoes, you brush your lips over his , swiftly pulling back before he can capture your mouth again. Giggling softly when he makes a disgruntled noise in his throat, you pat his chest, ignoring his pout. "We can finish this when we get home Bucky."

Or when you get to the car. Judging by the look in his eyes, its going to be the car.

"You wanna tell me what brought that on?" you ask as you hand a grinning Sarah a twenty.

A blush flares across his rounded cheeks, pressing his kiss swollen lips together, he shrugs one broad shoulder. Your words play in his mind and he briefly wonders if you'd let Bruce marry the two of you right now, right here in the middle of the farmers market. His gaze sweeps over face, lingering on your gorgeous eyes. No, he can wait, you deserve the wedding of your dreams. Until then he'll dream about being your husband.

Realizing you're still waiting for his answer, Bucky clears his throat, wraps his arm around you and picks his basket and miniature baker up.

"Just felt like kissing you." Always will.

"That's fine with me," you hum, leaning into his side. "Love you Bucky."

His response is a quick as it is genuine. "I love you too Peach." With everything he has.

Dada’s Home.

Word Count: 3.6k

Category: Angst to fluff

Warning: A few curse words and not proofread because i’m always too excited

Summary: Christmas isn’t so jolly when Chris misses some of his baby daughter’s first times and she doesn’t seem to remember him.

this was supposed to be super angsty but it got so stinking cute.

..

Christmas has always had many connotations; warmth despite the December cold, love, jolly, and merry feeling of being among your loved ones.

“I’m sorry,” Chris had whispered, 3 weeks before Christmas day, as he hugged you from behind, “I’ll try to be here before Christmas.”

You were in a sombre mood the moment your husband, Chris, had told you about how he was requested to travel for work and there was a chance he wouldn’t be there for Christmas—it also being the first time you were going to be apart since your daughter was born and while you knew his job required a lot of traveling, you relished the domesticity of it all when he was at home with you, working from the comfort of your home and being able to see him that frequently.

It was especially disappointing having to imagine experiencing your 10-month-old daughter’s first Christmas without him.

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         𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

summary ─ your father’s best friend, who happens to be your secret boyfriend, knows exactly how to love on you. 

pairing ─ dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, kissing, teasing, pet names, reader is in her late 20s, bucky is in his late 40s, he’s rich as fuck, kitchen sex, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, light breeding kink, wall sex, light choking/breath play, bucky is also a dilf, like he has an ex wife and kids lol

a/n ─ this fic is totally inspired by the latest sebastian pics where he had mid-length hair and beard. he looked rough and such a daddy, i had to write it lmao. my smut skills are waning?? idk i’m not so sure about the ending. i hope you like it <3 please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

The restaurant you were dining in with your parents and their friends was a fancy one. The chandeliers were heavy looking where they were hanging off the ceiling; the light they beamed was a soft, yellow one that didn’t hurt your eyes. General color scheme of the place was muted colors: Beige, black and brown. The people dining here with you were talking quietly to each other, laughing kindly and discussing stuff under their breath, so you could actually hear the soft, classical music playing on the background.

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my brand

he can not see

I’m seeing people starting to apologize for falling behind on Kinktober.

This goes for those people, and all other writers out there feeling like they’re falling short of content they promised to deliver:

You owe us nothing.

You heard me.

Yes, even if you said you would have something ready today, tomorrow or next month.

You’re writing in your own time, for free, and only you get to decide if and when you’re ready to share it with us.

We’ll be here to read it and celebrate it with you when the time comes.

𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚

pairing:  soft dark!professor andy barber x reader

concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap (reader is early 20s), edging, fingering,  fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited,  power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)

a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.

the cute gif and moodboard made by me

line divider: @s-tarksintern

lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming

Masterlist

His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire

After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.

As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you. 

It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.

Now, who do you break your rules for?

"Professor Barber..."

You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.

You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded.  Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.

Your email glared back at you, taunting you :

Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.

 The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.

Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.

You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow  staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.

Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.

A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart. 

As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.

In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into  yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email." 

Nervously, you swallowed.

How could you be so stupid to send him that email?

It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.

"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."

The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs. 

You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”

You paused.

Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"

It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.

"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.

You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when  it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt. 

"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.

Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel  the wetness that was his.

"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."

You lost control from the  the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed  that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman. 

"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.

Was this an exam of desire?

"You are such a-"

Your insult cut short by a harsh slap. 

The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire. 

"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.

But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.

The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.

"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter. 

Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."

Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send”  The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.

You are sober but drunk with desire.  His desire. His attention.

You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.

A man who just needed you.

With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.

"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.

In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.

His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body

"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled  his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"

You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him. 

Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.

“Professor…”

"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"

“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat. 

You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.

“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.

A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.

“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."

You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy. 

Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.

"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the hair to stand straight.

“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.” 

You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut

Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.

Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.

Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat. 

You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.

Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.

Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your hair, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair. 

He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping  around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.

The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.

The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down  on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.

"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"

He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy. 

His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.

“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end. 

You knew his game of seduction.

You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.

“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.

The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.

“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut

The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.

“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”

“Please…” you begged.

"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"

Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.

He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.

Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.

It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop." 

Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "

It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.". 

Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.

"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.

A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?" 

You couldn’t answer him.  You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.

Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on. 

You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.

To know what is his, he needs to see it.

In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.

Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.

imagine being bucky's mission partner

"You okay?"

Your eyes glared up at where Bucky stood over you, handsome asshole in his leather jacket. He asked again and even held out his hand, but you swatted it away and slowly got up from the ground. He watched and stepped forward when you faltered, failing to catch your balance. He was on you in a millisecond, holding you by the waist and standing way too close to you.

Cheeks warm from his smoldering stare, you pushed him away and started limping toward the doorway. You heard his sigh and anticipated his touch again - this time his hand fell to the small of your back.

"Come on, don't be like that..."

"I told you I had it."

Bucky kept a hand on your arm as he walked around you, his body moving to face you. His face had softened and he smiled gently, reaching a hand to the side of you face.

"I know you can handle yourself, I just...worry."

Knowing you couldn't be mad at him for more than minutes at a time, Bucky's smile grew a bit when you reached down for his hand. He gave it a squeeze and asked how you really were.

"That fall was bad..."

"My butt hurts..." your voice whined and he chuckled, bringing you into a gentle embrace; he ran his hand up and down your back, proposing that the two of you call it a night.

"They got away for now, we'll get them next time."

"Sam's going to be pissed," you shuddered at the thought but Bucky just shrugged.

"He's always pissed - let's go back to the hotel," he proposed, fingers gliding against your cheek. His touch brought comfort to the pain and you nodded, allowing him to kiss you on the lips.

"Will you ice my butt when we get back to the room?"

Bucky laughed. "Yeah, doll, I'll ice your butt."

hello, i have a request for ari <3

the plot is based off the movie, but you and ari are literally a team. he’s insanely proud of you, just tooth rooting fluff<3

hi! I hope you like it, I do apologise for how short it is!

Ari stands back with the rest of the group, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches his wife walk around, helping the refugees, and giving them food, water and blankets. The group watches her converse with them. Ari wears a proud look across his face, his heart swelling with pride.

“Your wife is incredible”, Rachel breathes, the group left speechless.

Y/n starts to head back over, a stern look on her face. Once she reaches everyone, her arms are folded in front of her. She looks at everyone one by one before speaking, “now. I know it’s late, and you all want to go to sleep before what we have to do tomorrow, but we need a plan.” Everyone nods. Ari moves behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he covers her shoulders in kisses.

Y/n holds her stance as they devise a plan, her husband agreeing while placing loving kisses along her flesh. Ari’s heart fills with love as he feels like he’s falling in love with her all over again. Remembering the first time they met, where she took charge and led everyone into a battle, all lives spared.

Ari places a kiss behind her ear, whispering how much he loves her.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑

here’s a slightly longer version of this drabble, hope you like it.

summary - you fall asleep during a scene and chris falls for you even more.

the gif isn’t mine.

Keep reading

Diplomatic Negotiations Masterlist

Status: Ongoing!

Pairing: Teacher!Ari Levinson x Student!Reader

Summary: Newly dumped and freshly fucked by a handsome stranger you met at a bar, you start your final year at college in high spirits. Only to realize that your new teacher in your Diplomatic Negotiations class, is none other than the guy you had an amazing one night stand with.

Series warnings: Fluff, smut, angst. Large age gap (Ari is late thirties, reader is in her early twenties). College AU, secret relationship, teacher/student relationships, shitty exes, alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of being hungover.

Smut warnings for this series (more will be added accordingly): Daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of sub space, size kink, spitting kink, praise, dumbification, degradation, public, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, choking, spanking, anal.

Main Parts

Preparation*

Discussion

Bargain*

Proposal*

Part 2*

Rebuttal

Clarification*

Part 2*

Justification*

Part 2*

Settled

Drabbles

Ari bends you over his desk*

Cockwarming Teacher!Ari while you study*

Ari grading papers in bed

The Time of the Prey

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made. 

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, slow burn, previous trauma/daddy issues, mentions of death, torture, mentions/descriptions of injuries, specific warning will be listed in each chapter. 

A/N: each chapter will be posted at 10:00am every Saturday morning.

To be added to the TAGLIST please send an ask, it helps me keep track or everything. my TAGLIST LIMIT will be 30 BLOGS because after that it’s get very hard to format and make sure everyone is properly tagged.  (TAGLIST CLOSED)

I’ve worked hard on this one, hope you enjoy!

Series Playlist

Episode One

Episode Two

Episode Three

Episode Four 

Episode Five 

Episode Six

Episode Seven

Episode Eight

Episode Nine - october 22nd

Epilogue - 

love in slow motion

+chris evans x reader

+warnings: talking of nudity, it's smut without being smut but in any case MDNI; written while listening to this - i suggest you to hear this while you read!

+summary: after months away, Chris wants to take things slow, retrieving any missed moment.

Months have passed since your naked skin burnt on his and his hands sculpted your body with the experience of a professional artist. Your hair was all scattered on the pillow while your legs were loosely wrapped around his bare waist, his lips devouring yours in the darkness of the room, illuminating by the mere lights of candles.

It had been a lot since it was only you and him, given how Chris travelled around the world to work, how his family asked for him to spend time with them when he was back and how your work was demanding. But then, in the gloomy atmosphere, everything took a back seat, the only important thing being him over you, his lips kissing your neck and jawline.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured between a kiss and another, the grip of his fingers tightening around your waist.

Fireworks of love exploded into your heart at his words, and his presence there. It was not a dream, his flesh was there for you to touch, to bite, to love. Your hands moved down to the end of his spine, getting you closer to him while your tongue moved faster on his, keeping the pace of your running heart.

"Hey, hey baby - slow down." Chris unlatched himself, looking at you in the eyes, his glaciers shining under the flickering flames he had carefully put inside the room.

"What?" you whispered out of breath. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, baby, no." Chris kissed the inside of your hand with such a tenderness that your heart threatened to explode at any moment. "It's just that -"

"What?" you repeat again while prepping on your elbows, not quite understanding the situation happening in front of you. He usually liked when you took initiative in those circumstances, happy that you were comfortable doing so with him.

However, his brows were furrowed together in what was his usual anxious expression, his lips bitten in nervousness. "I want to love you, slowly," he kissed your cheek again, as if your presence gave him the strength to keep talking, knowing that you wouldn't judge him. "I get caught up with everything I have to do, interview, press, friends - you know. But tonight I don't want to rush, I want to kiss every single missed moment from your lips."

A single tear wet your right cheek, chest bursting with love and warmth at his caring, soft words and his hands dried up your tear.

" I want to - to prioritize you, "he continued, his digits tracing the line of your lips." I want to remember this moment vividly when we are away, okay? "

He kissed the point of your nose while you nodded and pressed his lips on yours again with the force and love of one hundred tornadoes, hoping that he could feel the love emanating from your skin.

Heartbeats aligned together, as if they were two perfect jigsaws, and your lips pressed on his repeatedly, whispering soft and quick i love yous between one and another, Chris' tears and hugs replying in a voiceless answer, loving one on one.

Candlelights were the only spectators of that affection of yours, of your lips devouring each other and your bodies becoming one in slow motion, until even the last one turned off, and you two fell asleep in each other's arms, with the awareness that no one flew on you.

Love, by definition, could not be rushed.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 "𝐒𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐱" 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲

Courtland Gentry × Reader

Summary: Being pregnant fucking sucked, but he made it tolerable.

Warnings: Language, Insomnia, Fluff, Mild angst, Sexual Frustration, Implied age gap, Pregnant Sex, Minors DNI, Choking, Daddy Kink, Spitting, Handjob, Rough Sex, Pregnancy kink, Breeding Kink.

Had a bit of a field day. Don't mind me.

Your gaze is stationed on the ceiling, your hand cupping your swollen belly with what you hoped was endearment but what you actually knew to be deep, underlying… irritation.

"You're the guest here." You mutter aloud.

"A guest in my body." You turn in the empty king sized bed. Splayed across your body was the fierce and overwhelming scent of him. You had hoped slipping into one of his shirts would alleviate any chance of insomnia befalling you tonight. That, if you somehow manage to trick your brain into believing Six was in this bed with you, not out on some godawful mission, that you would feel comforted enough to get some fucking sleep…

But no such luck. You were far too aware and far too smart to trick yourself into anything really. The second you had announced your pregnancy, Six had insisted-

'No,' Your inner monologue chided with fierce resistance, 'that isn't the correct verb at all.'

Six had threatened any and all forces that would dare dispute your check-in for early maternity leave. Your entire life was confined to this lovely, modern splurge for 5 whole months and after 5 whole months, you begin to get antsy. You begin to get short tempered. Oftentimes chiding the innocent little life in your belly since there really was no one else around this massive house to talk to.

Six was Six.

Six had a job.

And while a part of you knew his getting out of his job was far more easier said than done, you never failed to hold impenetrable resentment to the entity on the other end of the phone calls, interrupting your family time with their top secret bullshit.

And the insomnia.

God, this baby never fucking slept.

"You're the one paying rent here. I let you piss, shit and eat inside of me, and this is the thanks I get, Little Monster?" No matter how hard you tried, there was not a sliver of malice in your voice, it sounded like a smile. A happy smile, because you knew you always had a part of him with you.

"I miss your dad," You say with so much melancholy it rips the tears right out of the sky. A light drizzle begins to sprinkle over the grounds, tapping away at the floor to ceiling windows like an amicable visitor coming to keep you company for the evening.

"Look at that. It's raining." You say, pushing your heavy body up by your forearms before wiggling your way out the edge of the bed. You unconsciously splay a hand over your stomach as you go to draw the curtains, finding much more comfort in the pelting rain than the darkened bedroom.

"Did you bring me some rain, little monster?

"It's not my baby you're calling a monster. That I know for sure,"

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your gaze is stationed on the wet grounds beyond the window, never daring to turn around for the impenetrable fear that it all might be a dream.

"It's a term of endearment," You manage to say after a few moments of silence, "A little nickname to remember it's father by." There's a tinge of bitterness veneered behind your sentence, and your shoulders are rigid. You fold your arms beneath your full, sensitive breasts as you glare at the window.

That all dissipates when you're enveloped from behind by a strong pair of arms. You have it: the comfort you have been longing for but never having the capacity to provide for yourself. You simply melt into his firm arms, his biceps tightening against the wet windbreaker far too cold against your bare arms but you don't care.

"Low blow, Mrs Gentry." You're greeted by a gruff voice, speaking into the nape of your neck. You blame it on the pregnancy hormones but the feeling of his facial hair alone has a pool of need welling between your legs.

"How are my two girl's doing?" Six's hands stretch over your belly, rubbing slow and deliberate circles. "I missed you both so much."

"Why do you just assume that we're having a girl?" You ask in mock irritation. "You don't even know-"

Six does an evil thing. A very very evil thing. Your sentence dissipates in the confines throat becuase of the hand that once one rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your belly, drifting upwards until his palm is laying flat against your breasts. The nipples harden under his soft and pleasant grip and you moan into nothing.

"Jesus Christ… you're so.." Six searches for the words as he massages your breasts. His tired, overworked brain is clouded with nothing but the ever present tempest of adoration and lust. "You're so…"

"Horny?" You finish for him, paying close attention to his heavy breathing behind you and the bulge growing in his pants.

"Pregnant." He says instead, finally spinning you around to look at him. Once you do, you are firmly planted in the knowledge that he is in fact real.

Your feet move on their own accord. The rain sings as you drift by Six and his half-lidded gaze. You waltz over to the bed -your bed. Six's eyes darken when you plop yourself in the center, opening your legs like a vixen in heat.

He had never seen a more delicious sight but he craved to see more.

"The shirt. Take it off." You fight the smile off your face at the dominating streak already slithering in. Last time he spoke to you like this, you ended up pregnant.

"Is this better?" You ask, having discarded the shirt on the bedroom floor. You're wearing nothing but your comfort cotton panties. Your breasts are on full display, catching all his attention.

Six slowly stalks toward you. The thunder claps in the distance as he appears from the shadows. A delighted thrill eases down your spine and the ache between legs intensifies.

Six is already palming his cock through his pants as he draws closer. You unconsciously open your legs further.

"Daddy's missed you so much," he says, working his cock out of his pants. You frown at that, feeling far too petulant.

"No more talking to her," You say, a pout protruding from your bottom lip. You ought to be ashamed really, but you had just gotten your man back.

Right now he was yours.

"Who said I was talking to the baby?" Six says, causing your heart to skip ever so slightly before he's lowering his head, crashing his lips onto yours. Court keeps a steady hand on the bed as he hovers above you. The kiss, between you both starting out like tiny licks of a flame before descending into complete and utter madness.

"You're so pretty like this," he murmurs against your lips. His fingers rub and pinch your sensitive nipples, making your cunt squeeze around nothing at all. "Daddy loves seeing you like this, baby." He continues, teeth clashing against teeth before he forces his tongue into your mouth.

"Fuck, I just," You break away from his lips to deliver a trail of kisses down his neck. Six closes his eyes in pure bliss. "I've missed you so much," your hand, as sly as a fox drifting down his body before slipping quite unceremoniously into his pants. You wrap a firm hand around his hard cock, squeezing lightly which draws a pained hiss from him.

"Fuck, baby girl," Court musters, trying but failing to hold his reserve as his eyes screw shut and your hand works magic around his cock. He's so far gone, thinking about how he's wanted this for as long as the two of you had been apart. He had thought of you multiple times on his trips, oftentimes waking up in luxury hotels with the budding image of you, pregnant and asleep, waiting for him to touch you... To fuck you...

"I missed you so much, Daddy," Your words drip like fresh honey. "And I know you've missed me."

"More than you'll ever know," he whispers into the air. Every semblance of resolve is broken, every ounce of his control has dissolved. He's teetering on the edge, wanting to fill you up once again with his seed. The thought having his hips bucking into your hand.

"Open your leg, baby. Open your legs," as if you had ever really closed them. Court runs two fingers down your slit, sending your head reeling back into the sheets with your back arching as far as your belly would allow. "Jesus- please! F-fuck me, Daddy,"

Court's breathe is heavy, his chest rising and falling as he throws his jacket and shirt over his head. "You keep saying shit like that and I'd have to keep you like this forever."

You gaze up at him with lust-filled siren eyes eyes begging to be fucked raw. It was what you both needed. You craved his hands, rough and calloused, coasting over every inch of your body as if it was his property. You needed him everywhere.

But before that, your gaze drifts down his muscular torso. A torso littered with scars of past trauma and pain. You lift yourself as best as you can, getting slight aid from Six who pulls you up lightly by your forearm. You splay small kisses along each and every scar, the tenderness of the act having Six's mind, heart and dick swelling even more.

"Lay back down, Princess. I need you, okay?" You're quick to comply and Court is quick to guide his cock to your soaking entrance. Your pussy clamps tightly around his cock, drawing him further in. A cracked groan escapes from him.

"You take me so well, baby," His other hand, whether consciously or subconsciously, goes to clamp around your throat, causing you to rut your hips further up against him.

"So. Fucking. Well." Six punctuates each sentence by thrusting his dick further in, all until he cannot help but thrust much more violently into your wet cunt. "T-Tell me when to stop, Princess. You've gotta tell me when it's too much,"

"Shut up and fuck me, Court." You say. And he does. Skin, slapping against skin fills the silence. Outside, the rain pours much more violently, as if rejoicing along with the couple, having finally been reunited.

He wishes to cum everywhere. In your mouth. On those huge fucking tits...

"Fuck, Daddy loves seeing you like this," he says, hand on your throat drifting down and squeezing your breasts. "You're so full, so fucking… mine." That word alone rips a moan and a groan from the both of you.

Your pussy tightens at his words, causing his resolve to snap once again. "You like that? You like being mine don't you."

You're completely cock-drunk, your gaze is filled with nothing but whorish intent as he pounds into you... only spurring him to fuck you faster. "I fucking love it, Daddy," You nod fervently, eyes still completely lost in a daze, "I fucking love it all."

"You'd do anything I want right now, wouldn't you? My princess is so fucked out, so fucking beautiful." You nod mindlessly, far too focused on the tip of his cock finding that soft cushiony tissue inside your tightening walls.

"Open your mouth, baby. Open your mouth for me," and when you thought the sex couldn't get any more obscene... the second you mindlessly open for him, he leans over and spits directly into your mouth, punctuating it with drunk, heated kiss.

"Mine," he murmurs against your lips as his hips begin to falter. "All fucking mine."

"Please, please, please-"

"Cum for me, baby. You don't gotta ask this time. I just wanna feel you milk this cock, okay?" You're nodding profusely as your walls convulse and you're finally pushed over the edge. A cracked moan goes into the air when you cum, Six, of course, not far behind.

He cums where he always does, his very favorite spot. Right inside you. It extends your orgasm by proxy, feeling his seed spill into your pussy.

Nothing at all matters but this moment.

"Fucking, Christ." Six says, finally collapsing beside you with his chest heaving wildly. His hand is still splayed over your front, rubbing slow circles along your breast before ascending over your stomach. "Why are you still up this late?" He asks, still breathing heavily.

"Your child hates it when I rest." You say, pulling an airy chuckle from him.

"That was enough of a workout though." Your eyes flutter shut before you push them open. You wish to prolong this moment, nestled in his arms, bathing in the afterglow, but you're far too comfortable. And when you're comfortable, sleep descends.

"I think I'm gonna be out…" your eyes flutter closed.

"Like a light," he concludes, placing a delicate kiss to the side of your temple before drawing you in further. He continues to rub slow circles around your stomach, feeling his chest tighten with an emotion previously uncanny to him. "Please let your mother rest," Six smiles and says, "Little monster."

<3

Restitution Master List

Restitution

Characters: Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Andy Barber

Summary: The loan shark fell in love... but so did his brother. And the other brother? He's a ghost from her past.

The enforcer, Steve Rogers is the oldest of the Barber brothers. His poor health caused his mafia family to reject him as an infant, and he was sent to live with an Aunt in Brooklyn.

The loan shark, Ari Barber is the youngest. He's a wild child who came back from his wanderlust travels to help his family when circumstances demanded.

The boss, Andy Barber wanted a life free of the Irish Mafia. He almost escaped before the mantle of leadership was thrust on him. The woman he left is haunted by his betrayal. Will she forgive him?

Chapter List

Restitution - Chapter One

Restitution - Chapter Two

Restitution - Chapter Three

Restitution - Chapter Four 🔥

Restitution - Chapter Five 🔥

Restitution - Chapter Six 🔥

Restitution- Chapter Seven 🔥

Restitution - Chapter Eight

Restitution - Chapter Nine 🔥

Restitution - Chapter Ten 🔥

Restitution - Chapter Eleven

Restitution - Chapter Twelve 🔥

Restitution Chapter Thirteen

Restitution Chapter Fourteen

Restitution Chapter Fifteen

Restitution - Chapter Sixteen 🔥

Restitution - Chapter Seventeen

Restitution - Chapter Eighteen

Restitution - Chapter Nineteen

Restitution- Chapter Twenty 🔥

Protector. l Masterlist

Summary: After your attempted kidnapping, former Navy SEAL and CIA Agent Christopher Evans is hired to be your personal bodyguard, much to his dismay and yours. Chris takes one single look at you and thinks he has you all figured out—you’re a rich, spoiled little brat who doesn’t have a clue about the real world. When it turns out that you’re absolutely nothing like he expects you to be, he finds that his duty to protect you runs deeper than he could have ever imagined.

Pairing: (AU) Bodyguard!ChrisEvans x Female Reader

Warnings: This series contains the mention and use of weapons that includes the mention and use of firearms, the mention and actions of kidnapping, mention of character death, a massive age gap between two of the side characters, foul language, implied sexual content, and later chapters will contain some smut. 18+ Only, Minors Please DNI.

Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. Series banner made by me, images all found Pinterest.

A/N: Please excuse me while I organize myself here. First chapter will be up very soon, I am in the stages of revising. <3

CHAPTERS

Part 1

Part 2

DRABBLES & BLURBS (Coming Soon)

CHARACTERS (Coming Soon)

Okay what about a Bucky x reader where buckys had a long day and the reader can tell so she dresses up like a 40’s pinup girl for him?

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: m in f penetration, handjob, fingering, creampie, eating cum, unprotected sex, slight degredation, praise

a/n: GIRL WHEN I SAW THIS IN MY ASKSSSS YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT!! this idea is so hot god i love it!! thank u so much for requesting

Bad day at work. I’m gonna be home late. I need a drink. A lot of them. Go to sleep without me, I’ll be home later, I just need to be alone. I love you.

You looked at the text on your phone then up to yourself over and over again in nervousness. You wanted to leave him alone, it was what you always did on his bad days when he came home upset. But giving him space never did anything, it only enabled him being upset for days on end, and it was hard for you to watch him struggle.

Today you tried something different. You wanted to make it about him. Everything was about you, what he cooked, what he did, even the bedroom, but not tonight.

You couldn’t help but remember him mentioning what magazines and girls the soldiers looked at back in the war, he even showed you an old magazine Steve had found. He was joking, only trying to show you memories, but the image was burnt in your mind. Solider Buck, hand in pants, starting at the girls he didn’t know in magazines.

Which is why you had on a semi long red dress with white polka dots. It was skin tight on your upper half, accentuating the size of your waist, and and it flowed waist down. It matched well with your red lipstick and soft makeup, along with your lightly curled hair.

You look like a girl in an old magazine.

When the door opened, you knew that was it, there was no turning back. You stayed still, trying not to let your overthinking get the best of you. You stayed seated on the counter, eating chocolate you had from a week back that Bucky brought for you.

His eyes were on the floor, but he tilted his head up at the realization of your presence, his eyes widening. He wanted to feel confused, but he was too amazed to feel it. You looked perfect, sprawled out on the kitchen island in a little 50s dress for him, “What are you wearing?”

“I found this in my closet,” you lied, knowing damn well you bought it days prior to surprise him. You dangled your legs over the edge of the counter, watching Bucky get closer, “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” he answered embarrassingly quickly, “You look beautiful.”

“I wanted to look pretty for you,” you smiled, grabbing chocolate from the tray and grabbing his arm to pull him closer. You grabbed his face with one hand and used your other to gently put the chocolate to his mouth. He opened his mouth slightly and grabbed the chocolate from your hand, watching you suck the residue off your fingers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he smiled, not sure how to react. He was so used to silence and solitude when he had a hard day at work or on a mission, but this was a different feeling for him.

“How was work?”

“Bad,” he scoffed, brushing the hair from your face, “No body got hurt or anything, it was just a mistake I made. I kept insisting on something and it turned out I was wrong and we all just argued. It was annoying.”

“I’m sorry, Buck,” you frowned, leaning in to press a kiss to his frowned lips, “Maybe I could make you feel better.”

His eyebrows furrowed but quickly raised in realization when you grabbed the belt loops on his pants to tug him closer, “I just want to take care of my favorite soldier.”

He looked speechless, mouth slightly agape in hesitance. He wanted to, God, in your outfit he wanted nothing more than that, but he was so used to the bedroom always being about you. He loved it that way, he loved making every move about making you shake beneath him, it was all he wanted to know. But your offer was tempting, “Let me take care of you.”

He nodded softly, his eyes glistening as you went in to press a kiss to the end of his jaw, then prickle more to his neck. You sucked on his neck softly as you gripped the bottom of his shirt, which he was quick to remove. He grabbed your waist and kept you planted on the counter as he closed his eyes, enjoying your assault on his neck.

You jumped off the counter, standing in front of him and having him slightly press you into the counter. You kissed lower onto his chest, then took it upon yourself to kiss all the way down to his happy trail. When you reached it, you pressed your tongue flat against his abs and licked up, all the way to his neck and kissing his lips. He was quick to stick his tongue in your throat, which you accepted for only a moment before getting onto your knees.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky mumbled, hoping you’d continue. He took your light scoff and continuations as a yes.

You unbuttoned his pants and grabbed them, pulling them slowly down his legs. You were quicker to grab his boxers and pull them down, revealing what you wanted. All ten inches of him stood straight up, tapping his stomach as your gingers grazed the base.

He grabbed the counters as you began stroking him underneath the table and gave him soft kisses, “What’s got you so hard, Buck?”

“You,” he responded fast, his breath uneven, “Your dress, fuck— You look so beautiful. If I saw you back in the 50s, I would’ve thought you were the most perfect girl I’d ever seen, just like now.”

You stood up and continued jerking him off, turning so you were in front of him. You wanted to see his face. You kissed his neck as you jerked faster, “Where would you have taken me on a date back then?”

“The movies, for sure,” he threw his head back as you collected spit on your palm and jerked him off stronger than before, “We would have kissed in the back— Fuck, that feels good— Taken you to get food after.”

“What would happen after the date?”

He realized what you were getting at as he closed his eyes, just imagining it, “Usually I’d wait to go back to my house, but I wouldn’t be able to wait with you— Oh, god, oh, jesus— I-I’d put you in the back of my car and shove my face in you, ruin you until you could never fuck another man again.”

He took a deep breath and let out a drawn out moan, his eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as you sped up, “I’d put you on top of me, let you ride me until you got what you wanted out of it. I’d fuck you so good.”

You felt yourself getting wetter at his words, and it was driving Bucky’s super senses insane, “I can smell you, fuck.”

He grabbed your waist and seperated you from him. He wanted to be delicate, but how could he when you looked so perfect? He found the buttons and accidentally broke a few, but undid them as fast as he could. He took no time to take the dress off of you, his breath stopping at the black lacy bra that had underwear to match. He put his hand out to trace the lace along the underwear, his hand stopping at your crotch. He cupped it slightly before you backed away, “This is about you, stop.”

“Don’t starve a man,” he whined, his eyes furrowing in desperation. He picked you up and sat you on the counter, spreading your legs as he watched you shake your head at his request, “Baby, do you want me to go crazy? I can’t cum until I eat you, be nice. I just want a little, just for a minute, okay? Then you can do whatever you want to me.”

“You’re like a starved dog, jesus,” you mocked, scoffing at him and letting him spread your legs. He always got what he wanted, and as good as it felt, you wanted to focus on him.

“You asked what I would have done to you in the forties?” He asked, sticking his hand into your underwear and rubbing you slowly, moving your wetness around to lube everything up, “I would have left that little dress on, and made you sit on my face. I’d want your smell on me for days so anytime I did anything, I’d think about what it felt like for you to hump my face.”

You breathed slowly at his confession, grinding onto his hand. He inserted two fingers, watching your mouth open as he did so. He stopped his fingers to let you adjust before moving them again, “You can’t even take my fingers— How am I gonna fit?”

His mocking tone was sending you over the edge, making your eyes close as he fingered you more rapidly, “What? Does that get you off? Me having to stuff you so full cause I barely fit?”

You moaned at his words, nodding rapidly as he fingered you at a quicker pace, “Look at you— Spread out for me with your slutty lace underwear— You look so fucking hot.”

He always made things about you when you did things, but he knew tonight you wanted him to get pleasure out of it all. He did something he was hesitant to do, but God did it feel good.

He rubbed himself slowly against your thigh as he fingered you, grinding on you like a dog in heat. You looked down, letting out the most unbelievable moan at the sight, making his eyes widen, “When you moan like that, I swear I could cum just humping you like a teenager.”

You arched your back and grabbed his arm, shaking your head, “Bucky, just fuck me, please.”

He removed his hand from your underwear and stuck his fingers in his mouth, moaning around them as he closed his eyes, licking up every drop he could, “You taste so good, look.”

He brought his fingers to your mouth and watched you take them in, tasting yourself. You hallowed your cheeks around him as he spoke, “You look like such a whore like this— Tasting yourself on my fingers. You’re meant to be fucked when you taste that good.”

He grabbed your underwear and turned it to the side, keeping on the sexy lace as he ran his dick over your wetness, making your body shiver. He stuck his head inside of you, then was slow to stick the rest of him in as well. When he was fully buried, he waited til you looked adjust to flip the both of you over, so you straddled his waist, “Ride me.”

You lifted yourself up before planting yourself back down, “Bucky— You’re so deep, fuck.”

You kept bouncing up and down, the sight of your tits jumping with you sending Bucky into overdrive, “I want you to cum inside me, Bucky, please.”

His eyes clenched shut at your words as he nodded, nearly busting at the words you just said, “I’ll fuck all my cum into you, baby, I promise.”

“Take what you want, milk me, God,” he moaned as you grinded on him, spelling your name with your hips. You grabbed your own chest, grabbing your nipples through your bra, “You’re so worked up, look at you— Greedy and fucked out— I could just fuck you whenever I wanted cause you’re always so wet for me.”

You nodded, bouncing faster and leaning down a bit to look at him, “You should— Fuck me whenever you want. When I’m cooking, showering, reading, just come and fuck me. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“You sound like such a slut when you say that,” his eyebrows knit together, his hand coming to yo ur face. You grabbed his thumb and stuck it in your mouth, “You’re so unreal.”

Your body winced as you continued riding him, “I’m cumming, oh god, oh my fucking god—“

“Cum for me,” he mumbled, knowing he was on edge too. You moaned before you collapsed on him, but right when you did, you felt something in you happen.

He let go and you felt ropes of cum endlessly paint your insides. It was never ending, the serum had made him cum for minutes on end. You were getting so full of cum, “Bucky, you’re filling me up so much, it’s leaking.”

“Take it,” he moaned, feeling the last few drops leak out of you as he pulled out.

He flipped you on your back, his eyes now on your lower half. He nearly came again at the sight of your wet pussy leaking his cum, it was dripping out so much.

He put his finger inside of you, shoving all the cum left into you harder. You shivered at the sudden overstimulation he was causing since you just came, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t waste any,” he smirked, taking his finger out and grabbing all the cum that had dripped out and bringing it to your mouth. You took it all, drinking his cum off his fingers as you grabbed his hand, looking at him.

“I want you to cum again— But in my mouth this time.”

to noise making ; steve rogers.

track six of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; steve rogers x mutant!gn!reader

synopsis ; pure silence never sat well with steve. it reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. so when he heard your loose, disjointed hums coming from the compound’s kitchen, he came seeking your voice out more and more.

words ; 4.5k

themes ; fluff, mild angst

warnings / includes ; mild cursing, implications of depression/ptsd but not explicit, descriptions of injury/blood, a mention of a toxic ex, one mention of biological warfare, reader is a mutant with the ability to manipulate matter, reader calls steve 'old man' and he calls them 'sweetheart' once, reader and tony are best friendos, this fic is basically a huge FUCK YOU to steve's ending in endgame, a kiss !! that tony rudely interrupts, mildly an avengers tower-reminiscent fic bcs they're my found family okay </3

main masterlist. set in the same universe as: blue jeans.

Silence accompanied Steve everywhere he went. 

It followed him through his morning—when he rose so early even the birds hadn’t started their day yet. When he went out for a quick jog, his shoes nearly mute against the sidewalk’s smooth concrete.When he showered with frigidly cold water right after, he stared wordlessly at the ground as the iridescent soap suds ran down his skin into the drain. 

It followed him through his afternoon—when he filled out paperwork for the latest recon mission. When he played a quiet game of Uno with Bucky over the kitchen counter during lunch. When he went outside, where the curious stares of strangers seemed to grow exponentially with each ticking second, and phone cameras were shoved into his face not two yards out the door. 

It followed him through the night—when he went on a blind date set up by Natasha, the dinner largely consisted of uncomfortable pauses, mostly because they really had nothing in common, and she’d also mentioned she wasn’t all that into blondes. When he later took his motorcycle out for a drive, stopping by an empty bridge to stare down at the river rushing by. When he slid into bed with naught a sound, digging his fist into his eyes until he hallucinated bright colors behind his eyelids. 

Pure silence never sat well with Steve. It reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. All the time that had slipped right between his fingers like fine grains of sand.

That morning was as ordinary as ever. He brushed his teeth. Ran a comb through his flaxen hair. Changed into his jogging clothes. Tied his shoes. And he slipped out of the compound, off for his daily run. 

When he came back, he was surprised to see Tony striding out of the kitchen—he wasn’t usually up this early. 

“Dishwasher’s broken,” the brunette told him, sipping a large mug of dark coffee as he stroked his stubble with his other hand. “Remind me to get that fixed, will you?”

Steve blinked, then nodded.

Satisfied, Tony bid him adieu with no more than a limp wave as he shuffled past him, off to the compounds laboratory. 

The rest of the day slid by as quiet as ever—paperwork, filing, having lunch with Natasha at a secluded Italian cafe, mission debrief with Sam, more paperwork, listening to Bucky complain about his cat scratching up his favorite henley, and finally, deciding he was hungry enough to make dinner. 

He rose out of his chair, stretching with a soft groan as his bones popped with the movement. Then, Steve made his way out of his room, making a bee-line for the kitchen. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the compound’s living room empty—Sam had left for Louisiana to visit his sister, Natasha was off on an impromptu mission with Clint, Tony was doing god knows what in his lab, and Bucky was busy reprimanding Alpine for destroying his most prized article of clothing.

With everybody gone, it should’ve been quiet. 

But it wasn’t.

Much to Steve’s mild surprise and curiosity, he could hear somebody in the kitchen. 

Who could it be? Bruce? No—Bruce had flown off to Switzerland for some sort of fancy science convention. Thor? It was possible, but probably not—the Norse god would’ve barged into his room asking how to use the microwave for the millionth time by now. 

Steve heard the clatter of pots. The sound of boiling liquid. A displeased noise, quietly followed by a frantic mutter, “Oh, too much, too much!” He heard water trickling down the drain.

Then, the humming started. It was loose and disjointed, following the tune of a song for a couple seconds at a time before taking a lengthy pause, only to pick up an entirely new melody a minute later.

It took him a moment to realize that lingering in the dark hallway whilst listening intently to someone in the kitchen was rather creepy, so Steve reared himself out of his thoughts and stepped into the light. 

Of course it was you. You were more or less new to the compound—a long-time, trusted friend of Tony’s from all the way back when he first built his Iron Man suit. You were recently brought onto the team due to your mutant abilities, uncanny intelligence, and Tony’s undeniable fondness for you. Besides that, Steve knew very little about you: he knew you were around the same age as him (at least the same age as when he was frozen), he knew you were a genius physicist, he knew you had the power to manipulate matter around you (which made you an excellent asset to the team), and he recalled Scott once mentioning that you were allergic to styrofoam. 

Steve assumed that the last one had been a joke. 

“Oh!” Your startled voice echoed across the kitchen at the sight of him. “Oh, it’s just you.”

An eyebrow raised closer to his hairline. “Just me? Who did you think it was?”

You appeared embarrassed for a moment, waving a spatula in the air. “Well, I may or may not have stolen Tony’s top secret models for his next version of the suit—just because I was curious how much he was going to spend on it, you know? I figured he’d come storming in accusing me of theft.”

A smile graced Steve’s lips. “Well, knowing Tony, I don’t think he’ll notice anytime soon. He hasn’t left the lab in hours.”

You shook your head fondly with a part hum, part scoff, before turning back to the stove, mixing the large pot full of red sauce. The air was saturated with the scent of simmering tomatoes and aromatic herbs—basil and oregano, Steve mused, were probably two of his most favorite things since coming out of the ice. They certainly didn’t have flavors like those back in the forties. Everything was far too bland and excessively moist back then. 

“I’m making vegan spaghetti,” you said, snapping him out of his mouth-watering daze. “I’d be happy to fix a plate for you.”

A polite protest was on the tip of his tongue—Steve was planning on quickly microwaving a frozen pizza before heading off to do some more work. Just as he began to voice this, his stomach rumbled loudly in betrayal, and a grimace etched over his mouth. A wave of heat seeped through his skin, tinting his face a subtle shade of scarlet. 

Much to his relief, you merely grinned brightly, smothering a laugh by biting down on your bottom lip in amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you quipped, ladleing spoonfuls of sauce into two bowls of steaming spaghetti noodles. “Take a seat.”

Complying, Steve gingerly sat at the kitchen table, resting his hand atop the smooth glass. “Can I ask you something?”

A smile danced across your mouth. “I believe you just did, Cap.” You chuckled mildly before gesturing for him to carry on.

“If you’ve got powers, why are you…”

“Cooking? I guess I just like to do things organically sometimes,” you replied easily, sprinkling herbs on top of the spaghetti before bringing the steaming bowls towards the table. “It’s cathartic.”

Steve thought to all the times he broke the sandbags in the gym—the satisfying thud of completion. He supposed he understood what you meant.

The dish in front of him was wafting with a fragrance that made his stomach twist painfully with hunger. 

“Dig in,” you said, gesturing to his serving as you started twirling the noodles around with a fork. “And to elaborate on your question, I’ve made food using my powers before—but it just tastes different. Like it isn’t the same if I didn’t measure out the ingredients, waited for the water to boil, or chopped up the veggies. It feels almost as if I’m cheating, you know?”

Steve tilted his head in thought. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” he said with a small smile, before forking some spaghetti into his mouth. “How’d you find out about your powers?”

The light-hearted atmosphere about you seemed to thin away at his question. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as you considered his question for a moment before responding. “It was an accident. A bad one. My ex… he was a real dick—excuse my language—and this one time one of our fights got out of hand. He started raising his palm like he was going to hit me. He wasn’t going to, by the way, he was just reaching for his phone behind me. But I panicked—and all of a sudden a shard of glass materialized right through his hand.”

Steve’s brows rose. He shoveled more spaghetti into his mouth.

“There was blood dripping all over the floor. We were both silent at first. Then, he started screaming. Luckily, we had a first aid kit in our bathroom. I bound his palm and drove him to the hospital—he was fine. No permanent damage.”

You sipped on some water, swallowing heavily.

“Are you guys still…?” 

“Oh, definitely not.” You chuckled bitterly. “He never wanted to speak to me ever again. Called me a freak. A mutant.”

It was brief, but Steve could see the insecurity meld across your features, shattering through your otherwise bubbly persona. 

“Well, he was an idiot. It was an accident, right? Accidents happen,” Steve quietly put forth. “And for what it’s worth, I think your powers are extraordinary. I mean, you can conjure up practically anything you want! That’s just… incredible.”

Warmth stained your insides golden as you pushed away a smile. “Thanks, Steve. Your powers aren’t too bad either—fast healing, enhanced strength. You’re quite the package.”

A generous smattering of crimson spread over his cheekbones. “Well, I’d have to thank Doctor Erskine for that. He was the one that invented the super serum—and chose for me to be the test subject. Because he believed in me.” There was a distant, reminiscent sadness to his eyes. You knew of Erskine, he was plastered across practically every American history textbook. 

“I’m sorry he died so soon,” you mumbled. “He seemed like a great man.”

“He was,” Steve said, nodding. He regarded you for a moment, briefly wondering just why it was so easy to talk to you when the two of you had barely spoken before this. The blonde across from you cleared his throat. “Thinking about him always gets me strangely nostalgic. I dream about the forties sometimes… my terrible childhood, my creaky apartment, my first love, … life before the war—before all of this. Sometimes I wonder—if I was given the chance to go back, would I?”

Your fork stopped halfway to your face. “Would you?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, rather shamefully. “I don’t think I would. I mean, I’ve got my family here. Bucky, Sam, Natasha—they mean the world to me. I think I just feel… guilty about it all? Like when you mentioned using magic sometimes feels like your cheating at something. I feel like I cheated my own death. It feels unfair. When I look at Bucky—I feel like I betrayed him.”

“Oh, Steve.” You were shaking your head, reaching across the table to gently grasp one of his hands. Your palm was warm atop his frigid one. “I know how that feels—like you don’t deserve a place in the world because you’re different. But I promise it gets better. None of that was your fault. You’ll move on, with time. Plus, you’ve got a great support system here. I know we haven’t been the closest of friends but I’m certainly willing to lend an ear whenever you want me to.”

It mildly surprised him when he felt disappointment unfurl within his chest when you retracted your touch.

“That…” Steve released a small sigh, relaxing his muscles that he didn’t even realize were tense. “That means a lot, Y/N. Thanks. I haven’t really told anybody this because I thought it’d just… go away eventually. I don’t like the quiet. I hate it, in fact. The silence always reminds me of all the time I spent in the ice—how I cheated death. It leaves me with my own thoughts and makes me realize just how… unsatisfied I am. I’m not happy with myself when everything around me is quiet.”

He swallowed down another twirl of spaghetti, now cold and thick in his throat.

A part of him was afraid he’d scare you away with this confession. After all, it was a lot to dump on the first conversation with someone he had a lot of respect for.

Instead of finishing the rest of your spaghetti as quickly as you could and running away from him like Steve partially expected you’d do, you merely smiled at him, a newfound understanding reflected in your eyes. “Then I’ll make sure never to be quiet around you,” you said, genuine tenderness woven between each word.

Steve’s stomach lurched at that.

The rest of the dinner went by filled with stories of how you mastered your powers, stories of Steve finding out Bucky was still alive after all these years, stories of how you met Tony long, long ago.

It was safe to say, silence was nowhere near the two of you that night. 

You were humming again. Steve could hear you from down the hall. It’d been a couple of weeks since that first dinner with you—with dozens more sprinkled in between. The two of you were practically attached by the hip after that. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He wandered into the kitchen with his hands behind his back, coming beside you at the sink, where you were washing the dishes (which reminded him that he forgot to remind Tony to fix the dishwasher). 

“Can I help?” he asked, unclasping his hands and extending one towards you.

Without breaking off your humming, you handed him a damp plate whilst gesturing to a rag for him to use to dry. Steve caught sight of your bright grin from his peripheral vision. He ducked his head bashfully, pulse kicking up a notch. Your hip bumped into his, and the two of you quietly chuckled. 

No words were exchanged between the two of you then, the only thing filling the silence between you was your disjointed hums to songs that Steve didn’t know.

“What song are you humming?” The scratching of Steve’s pencil against paper momentarily stopped in the middle of drawing a sketch of a bowl of fruits on the coffee table in front of him as he tentatively asked the question. 

You looked away from your book propped up on your legs, which were carelessly thrown over Steve’s on the compound’s couch. His free hand was splayed largely on your knee—but you pretended not to notice.

“Huh?” you asked, having not heard his question properly, preoccupied with the story you were reading.

“You’re always humming the same song,” Steve said. “Well, parts of that song.”

“Oh!” Placing the book down, you shifted around so you could reach for your phone in your pocket. “It’s this sixties song called Summer Wine by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. One of my all time favorites.” 

You pressed the play button on your phone screen and Steve listened along, enjoying the softness of Nancy’s voice in stark contrast to the slow rasp of Lee’s. He bobbed his head to the song off-beat, but you found it endearing all the same.

“Yeah, that’s it, old man,” you teased, elbowing him in the side and mimicking his movements. Your smile, so wide it seemed to illuminate the entire room, made Steve giddy with excitement. “It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

Steve let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I was so set on forties music being the best of the best for the longest time—I think you might just be able to change my mind. Don’t tell Bucky I said that, though—he’d skin me alive.”

A genuine gasp fell from your lungs as you lurched forward, grabbing at his hands and leaning in so close he could see his reflections in your enlivened irises. He could smell your perfume, a soft wafting of vanilla and lavender that made his head spin. “Really? Because I have so many more songs I could recommend to you—tell you what, I’ll make you a playlist tonight. Finally introduce you to the world of modern music.” You relinquished your hold on him, moving back with a grand beam. “That might be the nicest compliment anybody’s ever given me, Stevie.”

Steve couldn’t help but feel like you were overexaggerating just to make him happy, but you seemed happy to do so, and how could he ever interfere with that? 

“I don’t know, though,” Steve started, his tone teasing. “Forties music is gonna be really hard to top.”

“It’ll be my mission to find something for you, then,” you said, determined. With that, you picked your book back up and began reading again, humming softly once more. Steve took that as his cue to continue drawing. 

He spared you a glance every once in a while, observing the way the sunlight from the window cast a dewy, honey-like luminescence over your features. The way the sloping curvatures of the shadows on your face enhanced your relaxed state. The way your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip as your pupils flitted to and fro from the book’s pages. He wanted to ask if he could draw you, but the words lodged in his throat, like he had swallowed a large stone.

So he stayed quiet, listening to you hum a song that Steve now knew.

“Steve.”

Natasha crossed her arms.

“Steve.”

She sighed, eyes narrowing. 

“Damn it, Steve!”

Finally, the blonde startled, ripping his headphones off and whirling around in his chair to see Natasha standing a foot away from his desk. He’d been listening to the playlist you had meticulously curated for him, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet when you told him to listen to it.

The annoyance in the green of her eyes dissipated, replaced with mild amusement. “So much for super-hearing, huh?” she snarked, lacking any true bite to her words. Despite her stoic demeanor, she was really glad Steve found someone that made him happier than anybody else ever did. Even though he didn’t know it yet—Natasha saw the way he looked at you. 

Steve scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry, Nat. How can I help?”

“Y/N just got back from their mission. They’re in the infirmary.”

Immediately, he stood up, chair squeaking at the abrupt movement, eyebrows furrowing. “Infirmary? Are they hurt? What’re they doing back so early? The mission was supposed to be take an entire week, that’s what—”

“Relax, Rogers,” Natasha sternly asserted, effectively cutting him off. “Just doing a check-up—they were exposed to some radioactive material but it should be fine.” In a much softer tone, she added on, “Y/N was asking for you.”

Breath hitching in his throat, Steve nodded and a quiet thank you left his lips as he jogged out of his room. 

The few minutes of silence as he rushed to the infirmary did nothing good for his worrying. He passed by a pretty bruised-up Clint lounging across the waiting seats, pressing an ice cube to a gash on his forehead, and gestured to the double doors across from him. He knew of Steve’s budding relationship with you (because Natasha made it her personal mission to embarrass the poor guy) and could only assume that he’d come rushing here for you. The polished floors squeaked under his shoes as he came to a sudden halt, briefly saluting Clint thanks before knocking twice. Before he got a response, he slowly pushed the doors open, peeking his head in.

You were seated on the edge of the hospital bed, still in your mission’s attire, hair rumpled and a bit of dried blood on the side of your jaw, but you looked to be otherwise just fine. Doctor Cho was beside you, tapping her pen against a clipboard as she took note of your blood pressure. 

“Hey, old man. Long time no see,” you said with a toothy grin when you heard the door creak open. “You missed the funniest thing on the mission. There was this—”

Steve strode forward, and before you could finish your sentence, he knelt down and enveloped you into a tight embrace, nose pressing against the crown of your head. 

Your words were muffled into his shirt, which eventually died away when you noticed that he clearly was too emotional to listen to your amusing story of how Clint tripped on a big rock and cut his head. He smelled so good, like clean laundry and those tree-scented car fresheners. Steve barely registered Doctor Cho shifting awkwardly and excusing herself out of the room, entirely fixated by the way your arm loosely curled around his shoulders as you hugged him back.

“Whose blood is that?” he asked without pulling away from you.

“Not mine,” you assured him.

“Nat told me you were asking for me,” said the blonde, gingerly pulling away from you to meet your eyes. His hand went under your chin to tilt your head around, as if reaffirming that you were perfectly fine. “Exposed to radioactive material? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Looks like someone missed me,” you laughed at his mother henning, bringing your hand up to wrap around his, holding it close to your chest. “The wrong kind of people were trying to steal stuff that could potentially be used for biological warfare—we intercepted, but one of the cases broke and I had to use my powers to forge a new one. I was only exposed for a couple seconds, but it was enough to warrant a check up. We had to back off because they were in possession of the last case and threatened to drop it into the city’s main water supply.”

Steve’s brows knitted together as you spoke. “We gotta go stop them, then—”

“They think they have the last case,” you said, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips.

“You used your powers to make a fake,” Steve whispered in realization. “You’re a genius.”

Waving away his praise, you leaned forward, gripping him tighter. “Enough about that! Did you listen to the playlist?”

His chest rumbled as he laughed. You had just gotten back from a dangerous mission and you were asking about him. 

“I was around halfway through,” he said, grinning softly.

“Guess you’ll just have to listen to the rest with me,” you quipped, craning your neck to swiftly kiss his cheek. When you pulled back just a little, you did it ever so slowly, hovering close enough so that your noses brushed against one another. 

Heat flushed across his face. His heart palpitated painfully against his ribcage. His stormy eyes flickered down to glance at your lips, then moved up again to meet your eyes. All he saw was you.

“You can kiss me, Stevie,” you mumbled against him, giving him the green light he was waiting for. “I promise I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that. I mean, you’re a super soldier, would you even feel th—mmh!”

That spurred him to shift forward, capturing your lips with his and effectively interrupting your thoughts before he could get any more flustered, foreheads bumping against one another. After recovering from your initial shock, you tugged him closer by the lapels of his shirt, tilting your head to the side so he could fold into you ever so perfectly. It felt as if a fire was crawling around his veins, consuming him entirely. Your skin was cold against his, quelling the burning sensation dancing over his skin. 

You smiled into the mouth, laughing against his lips when he drifted his fingers up your side. “That tickles,” you murmured, pressing butterfly kisses on the corners of his lips and the tip of his nose. 

Steve couldn’t help it. He began laughing as well, muffled when you slapped his tickling hands away, kissing him harder.

The two of you stayed that way for what felt like hours—breaths turned ragged and chests heaving, when really it was only about five minutes. By the stroke of the sixth minute, Tony strode into the infirmary room uttering, “Knockity knock knock,” despite not knocking.

“Woah!” he exclaimed upon seeing the two of you in such… close proximities. “Took you two long enough. Barnes owes me twenty bucks. And, Jesus, hang a sock on the door, Rogers! I know you’re old, and not at all accustomed to the sexual customs of our generation, but I do not want to see my recently-radiated best friend swap spit with you.”

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. “Nice to see you, too, Tony. And yeah, your recently-radiated friend is just peachy, thanks for asking!”

Tony glared at you. “Please, if you weren’t ‘just peachy’ Rogers wouldn’t be shoving his tongue down your throat.” Steve looked like he wanted to object, but he cleared his throat and diverted his gaze to the floor instead. Tony barked out a laugh, rotating on his heel to head back out. “Good to see you’re okay, kid. Remember to wrap it before you tap it!”

As soon as he was gone, Steve groaned, dropping his head against your chest, flustered beyond relief. 

“Does he always have to be so crass?” he asked, wrinkling his nose with embarrassment. 

“That’s Tony for you.” You shook your head with amusement. Then, your voice a notch softer, you asked, “Hey, Stevie?”

He hummed in response, lifting his head to look at you.

“You remember when you said you weren’t sure if you’d want to go back to the forties or not?”

Steve blinked in mild surprise. “Yeah?”

Your expression betrayed your clear hesitance as you swallowed uncomfortably. “Do you think you’d go now?”

“No, sweetheart,” he whispered, bending closer so his nose brushed yours. “I’d never leave you. Not ever. I wasn’t going to leave in the first place, because I could never leave my friends and family here. But you… you make me feel not guilty for being happy. Like I deserve a life of my own—with you. And I think the quiet becomes more bearable when you’re around me. I don’t think so much of the past with you because… well, because I’m thinking of our future.”

A heartbreakingly bright smile painted your lips golden, and you shook your head fondly. It might’ve just been a trick of the infirmary’s painfully artificial lights, but he could’ve sworn he saw the glimmering film of tears briefly gloss over your eyes. “Did you just come up with that on the spot?” The two of you laughed into each other, and you pressed a gentle kiss just under his eyes. “You’re something else, Stevie, I’ll tell you that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, unable to stop smiling, before capturing your grin with his once more.

Request? Baby mine was soooooo good. Can you do one where Chris helps Bella meet Noah for the first time? Cute fluffy one please 😭

Thank you sm for this request! This is more of a blurb, but I hope that you still like it even if it is a bit on the shorter side. x

Stepping Up

Baby Mine

“Are you ready to finally meet your little brother, Bells?”

Chris can’t help but grin to himself from ear to ear as he quickly makes his way down the hospital’s maternity ward towards your private room. He’s carrying his six and a half year old daughter, Isabella, on his hip. His mother and two sisters had been keeping an eye on Bella for the last couple of days while you were going through labor, and as soon as the baby was born, Chris had called them up and asked them to start heading down to the hospital. While his mother and sisters, along with the rest of his family, are anxious to see his son for the first time, he’s asked that they remain patient for a while longer because it is only right, in his mind, that Bella be the first to meet him. That, and he wants to spend some private time with his wife and children alone before the visitors start pouring in.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Bella pouts. She reaches up with her teeny fingers, nervously fiddling with his beard.

He laughs, shaking his head at her. He’s ready to explain to Bella that Noah is only a few hours old and can barely open his eyes, but instead, he assures her, “He is going to love you so much, Bella. You’re going to be the best big sister to Noah, me and mommy know that you will.” He stops just outside of your room and takes a moment to give her a loving kiss on her cheek. Chris hopes that the transition from being an only child to now having a sibling won’t be too difficult for her. The last thing that he wants is for Bella to ever feel like she isn’t as important or as loved as her brother. He’s never going to let that happen, not if he can help it. “I love you, Isabella. Always remember that no matter what, I love you very, very much.”

She wraps his arms around his neck. “I love you too, daddy.”

Chris hums and his arms give her tiny body a gentle squeeze. No matter how many times over the last couple of months she’s called him that, each and every time she says it feels like the first and it makes his heart swell warmly with pride. If there’s one thing he’s grown to absolutely adore, it’s being this little girl’s daddy—and hearing her call him that makes him happier than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s see if mommy is ready for us.” He lightly knocks at the door before cracking it open slightly. “Honey? You all done feeding? I have a little visitor here who is just dying to see you.”

“Yeah, I’m all done,” Your voice calls back in reply. You’re sitting up in your hospital bed, your back resting comfortably against the pillows as you cradle your newborn son in your arms. Your heart nearly explodes inside of your chest with complete and utter joy when your husband carries your daughter into the room. The last time you saw Bella was nearly forty-eight hours ago, right before you had started experiencing early symptoms of labor. Chris made the call of taking her to his mother’s house well before your water broke, just to be safe. Two days later, you couldn’t be happier to finally see her again. “Hi Bells!”

“Mommy!” She exclaims, right into Chris’ ear. “I missed you!”

You smile widely at her. “Oh, I bet I missed you more! How’s my best girl?”

“I’m good!”

Chris carries her over to your side, bringing her closer.

Bella’s big, innocent eyes widen when she gets a glimpse at the baby you’re holding in your arms.

“Bella, this is Noah,” You tell her, feeling an emotional lump rise in the back of your throat as you watch her reaction to him. You manage to swallow it back. “He’s been waiting all morning to meet you.”

Chris perches himself beside you on your bed, settling Bella onto his lap. “Go on, kiddo,” he encourages her. “Say hello.”

“Hi Noah.” She gives the sleeping infant a shy wave before bashfully turning around and burying her face into Chris’ chest.

He rubs her back soothingly. “It’s okay, Bells.” He prompts her to take another look.

You hold up Noah towards them. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.”

Bella lifts her head from his chest and turns her attention back to her brother. She hesitates, at first, but then she reaches over and gently touches his cheek. She gasps. “He’s so soft!”

Chris watches the scene before him, his own emotions nearly getting the best of him. He never could have imagined that he would have a family—his own perfect little family. But here he is, with a gorgeous wife and two beautiful, perfect children.

“Mommy? Can I hold him?” Bella suddenly asks, timidly looking up at you.

“Honey, I think you’re too little—”

Chris immediately interjects. “Well, wait a second. I think we can make that happen.” He quickly stands up and sets Bella down on her feet before walking over to the single, dark blue armchair that’s nestled in the corner of your room. He drags it up beside your bed, giving you a wink as he does so. He picks Bella up and sits her in the chair before taking one of your extra pillows and placing it onto her lap. He takes her arms in his hands and begins to maneuver them for her. “Here, hold your arms out like this against the pillow. There we go, that’s it. Just keep your arms like that, okay?”

Bella nods her head and does as she’s told. “Okay, daddy.”

Chris takes Noah from your arms and you watch as he gingerly sets the baby in Bella’s waiting arms. He’s careful to keep his hand on the back of Noah’s head for support.

“And there we go,” he says, grinning at her. “Look at you! Being a big girl and holding your baby brother.”

Bella beams proudly. “Look Mommy! I’m doing it!”

You reach over and grab a tissue from the bedside table, dabbing at your eyes.

“You okay, honey?” Chris glances over his shoulder at you.

You nod lightly, sniffing. “Hormones.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to his kids.

Noah fusses and a second later, he opens his eyes ever so slightly.

“He’s awake!” Bella whispers. “Daddy! He’s looking at me!”

“He is, sweetheart.” Chris brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Talk to him.”

“I love you Noah,” Bella coos to him. “I promise to be the bestest big sister ever!”

CHRIS EVANS ➔ A CHARACTER STUDY THROUGH COLOURS (insp)

"I lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship," stated the local hero as he helped lift up a child.

"I took my shot and he said yes," gushed the retired cyborg as several children dangled from his arm.

Wanted

Summary: You consider ending things with Bucky after seeing a girl come on to him, but it's not that easy, and you get a hard reminder about who he really wants in the clubhouse bathroom.

Pairing: Beefy biker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected rough possessive sex, oral sex (f), fingering, brief exhibitionism/semi-public sex, mirror sex, jealous and angry reader, biker slang/culture, slightly toxic angsty vibes with a happy ending, a lot of swearing, pet names, beefy!bucky (he needs a warning).

Word Count: 1.6k

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

Leaning against the counter you tried to slow your breath and calm down after what you had just seen. A slutty little sweet butt, practically grinding herself against the man you’d been seeing – the man you thought was yours. Hell, he hadn’t told you that you were his old lady, but countless nights tangled up in his sheets at the clubhouse had you thinking that you were something more. Anything more.  

You watched the way he smirked at her before you finally got sick of the sight and stormed into the bathroom down the hall. 

Embarrassment flooded you as you realized what a waste your efforts with him were. You tried your best to play it cool, go easy and casual with Bucky because that's the pace that he set. But now you knew that he was just stringing you along out of convenience. 

Deep blue eyes locked with yours as you stared into the mirror, the brawny biker slipping into the bathroom behind you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could ya Buck?” you sneered at his reflection. 

“C’mon darlin’, don’t be like that.” His big, warm hands slowly slid around your waist from behind. 

You turned in his hold, glaring up into his stupid gorgeous eyes. He towered over you and his large frame took over the cramped space. Why did he have to look like that? All broody, and irresistible, and annoyingly beguiling. Just having his hands on you made you want to fall down the rabbit hole, pretend like it didn’t bother you, as if your heart wasn’t on the line and you were perfectly fine – but then he smirked. 

Anger rose up your chest as you looked at him, grinning at you like he did at her. Rage took over. “I’m fucking done with you!” you shouted, shoving his broad chest away from you, but he didn’t move an inch and you hated how hot that was. His body emanated power, and his presence made you weak. 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly opening as his gaze darkened. “Nothing happened, and nothing was gonna happen, honest,” he declared. He sounded sincere, and you despised the way you felt your hard exterior fragment at his words. 

That smug smirk graced his lips again, and you wanted to slap it off, or more honestly, kiss it off. 

“You didn’t want something to happen with her?” 

He crowded you, pushing you up against the counter behind you, close enough to feel the heat permeating off his body. “Now why would I want that when I have this sexy little spitfire right here?” 

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as you fought to hold onto your resolve the best you could. God, you just wanted him to hurt a little bit, wanted to be the one to walk away. “You don’t have me, Bucky.”

Gently running the back of his knuckles down the side of your face, his gaze flickered from your mouth to your eyes. “Don’t I?” he questioned, unaffected by your lie. 

Gasping at his arrogance, “You son of a bitch.” You were done, this was it. He was used to getting his way with every girl he came across, but you weren’t going to give the self-righteous bastard the satisfaction. 

His gruff voice broke your train of thought. “Because you sure as hell have me.”

Your breath hitched as you looked into his dark dilated pupils – he meant it. 

“You’re only gonna break my heart, I don't think we should –”

His lips cut you off before you could end it. His tongue was hot and determined. His hands moved up and cupped your jaw as he held you in place, kissing you until you couldn’t think. Until you forgot why you were mad in the first place, only knowing that you needed him. 

“You can’t quit me, baby,” he whispered against your lips. His hypnotic eyes reminded you that you were too far gone; his lips against your neck as his rough hands slid down and up your skirt, kneading your ass harshly cemented his possession. 

With his sinful blue eyes transfixed on yours, he dropped to his knees between your legs and licked up the length of your inner thigh. Heat bloomed in your core as you gave in, watching him kiss his way up your thighs, biting into your flesh as his eyes held yours. Whimpering out, you tugged him closer, needing more. Bucky chuckled darkly before burying his face in between your thighs, licking and sucking you through your lacy g-string. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of your panty and eased them off before swiftly hooking your leg over his shoulder and swiping his hot thick tongue through your wet folds. 

Your hands fell to his hair, holding him in place. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned under his breath, his eyes closed in pleasure as he licked you from your entrance to clit, over and over again. 

Without warning he shoved two thick fingers into your center, working you over as his tongue fixated on your bundle of nerves. The cool metal of his rings sliding against your hot skin created a delicious contrast. You moaned in between gasps of air, watching as he took care of what he knew belonged to him. The grip on his hair got harsher and he could tell you were close, feeling your needy muscles quiver – his favorite tell-tale sign. 

Unable to control yourself you trembled in pleasure, body convulsing as you came undone. “That’s it, baby,” he purred, helping you through it, curling his fingers deeper inside of you. Mischievous eyes watched in appreciation, his chest swelling in pride as you whimpered out his name. 

While your anger had been snuffed out to embers, your passion for him reignited the flame. 

You coaxed Bucky to stand before tearing at his shirt, pulling his cut and flannel open so that you could nip at his neck. You bit and sucked your way down to his tattooed chest, leaving your mark as you went. 

Tugging at his belt, you swiftly undid his jeans, desperate to feel him. Before you could wrap your hand around his heavy length, he gripped the back of your thighs and pressed you hard up against the wall across from the mirror; where you could watch as he wrecked you. 

Holding you there with his hips and hands, he leaned forward to capture your lips before lining himself up; only pulling back a split second to watch your face as he buried himself inside of you, driving home with one hard thrust. You gasped at the stretch and intense familiar pressure. Bucky had fucked you so many times, but that first plunge never failed to take your breath away; always reminded you how no other man could ever fill you so right. 

His hips snapped into yours mercilessly, striking you roughly again and again at an unwavering pace. 

You threw your head back and lost yourself in a daze, incapable of uttering a word. Fuck, you’d let him do whatever he wanted if he’d keep on using your body like that.

“You’re all I want,” he growled, his teeth on your neck. 

As he recklessly thrusted in deeper than imaginable, you almost missed the quiet click of the door. But then your eyes locked in the mirror with that dumb skank that wanted your man. 

Her eyes nearly bulged out in surprise and you took the opportunity to toss her a devilish grin as Bucky took you apart. That’s right bitch, mine. 

She scurried off right before your back arched off the wall, your muscles tightening around him. 

“Oh, fuck –”

“Takin’ all of me so fuckin’ well,” Bucky grinded his pelvis into you, rubbing your clit each time he bottomed out, knocking the air from your lungs. He was lost in you, and all you could do was take it. Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, you pulled him impossibly closer, until your walls spasmed as you shattered in his arms. But he wasn’t done with you; he rutted into you hard, watching proudly as your body quaked between the wall and him. You clenched him perfectly, pulsating around him so hard it sent him over the edge. 

You bit his lip as you felt his thrusts grow erratic. Bucky groaned out your name as he jerked violently, emptying himself – branding your insides with his hot release. 

He’d be happy to spend the rest of his days living in you. His brain was foggy, but his heart knew who he was supposed to be with. Resting his forehead against yours, he panted as he tried to calm down. 

Wrapping your hand around his jaw, you smiled softly. “I love it when we fight,” you admitted. 

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs. “Me too, darlin’,” he nipped your lip. “But I’m starting to think you start these fights because you know how it’ll end.” 

You giggled at his words, he was onto your game. “Maybe I do,” you whispered just before your lips met his for a soft, sweet kiss. 

You were everything he wanted in a woman, you gave him more than he ever thought he’d find in his world. Right then, he made a mental note to stop entertaining the advances of other girls. His soul was already taken. But damn was it true, the fights always led to the best sex. 

Carefully pulling himself out, he gently set you down, keeping his arms around your waist as you stood on wobbly legs. Your smudged eye makeup, those gorgeous sultry lips, and the way you looked at him – Bucky was a goner. 

You were his weakness, and he knew then what he’d never said out loud – all he needed from this life was his bike, the club, and his best girl. 

In Every Lifetime

summary: When Bucky’s first love from the 1940′s is found alive in cyro, he begins to question whether you’d turn from him in fear or disgust. 

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 5k

warnings: angsty angst (with a happy ending), bucky’s sad internal dialogue, 

Bucky had half a mind to wonder whether his heart might truly escape his chest. It pounded infernally against his rib cage; violently shaking against the bones until they splintered and cracked, he was certain he might look down at the SHIELD emblem on his sweatshirt to find blood soaking through the fabric. Or perhaps the bones of his sternum piercing through his skin. Hell, he might have left his heart on the tile a few paces behind him – throbbing on the ground, exposed to the elements.

He hadn’t so much as taken a breath since he caught word of what Stark uncovered in the Atlantic. It was only meant to be an exploratory mission; a simple means of honoring his father’s legacy by scanning the ocean depths in search of a history Howard had idolized in his time. Simple, apparently, to a billionaire with nothing but time on his well-manicured hands.   

Keep reading

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad. {wc: 2.2k}

Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure but not that much, Karen parent being annoying, bucky is a fool but amaya is gonna fixed it.

a/n: I've been sitting on this for months but I had to step back from this account bc of everything. thankfully I finished this before my electricity went puff but not my best job. pls have mercy bc I'm rusty.

Bucky knew there weren’t many male first-grade teachers. But honestly, it was his dream job. He was teaching the country's future and helping them become better people.

Also, 6-year-olds love him, especially with his fantasy land classroom he forced Steve to help decorate. Bucky loved being a teacher, and he loved his kids. Relatively easy to get up every day at 6 am when you love your job. 

That being said, he knows he shouldn’t have a favorite student. So it’s basically written in the teacher’s rule book. 

But Amaya was undoubtedly his favorite of his unruly kids. She was very spirited. Amaya loved helping out her classmates and talking to them. She was just the best student he had ever had.

She is amusing. Every day she comes to him with a story about her mom. Unfortunately, Bucky hadn't met her yet because she was busy with work. Still, he interacted with Amaya’s second contact, Natasha. 

At this point, Bucky feels like he knows her. How she likes tulips. Her favorite color is pink, which is Amaya’s favorite, but that’s a funny coincidence. He knows that Amaya and her mom go to the museum every week on the day they have special events for kids. Amaya’s favorite exhibit is the one about mythical creatures. 

“Momma likes the one with the paintings. She likes the one with the man who gives the girl a flower.” Amaya tells Bucky. Amaya always goes to Bucky’s desk after finishing her classwork because if she doesn’t, she distracts her classmates. Or give her classmates the answers, so this is the only way to keep her entertained. She always takes this time to draw something for Bucky to hang on his wall of drawings.

“Oh, Mister Bucky! Momma is going to come to pick me up today.” Bucky cursed mentally, completely forgetting today was parent-teacher conference. 

Talking to 6-year-olds was a lot easier than talking to adults. Especially when you are telling parents that their kids are having problems. The worst part of the job, honestly. If Bucky could just teach his kids, send letters to the parents, and never interact with them, he would. 

“Going to meet the elusive Miss (Y/N)?” Steve, his best friend, asked. Because of budget cuts, Steve was currently the art teacher for the entire school. Did he like it? Probably not having the kindergarteners put glitter in his hair, but he enjoyed a challenge. 

“Apparently,” Bucky mumbled, opening his lunch. Just a ham and cheese sandwich because he was running late.

“She finally showing up to a conference?” Sam asked, heating up his lunch. Sam was the history teacher for the 4th and 5th graders. He was also a pain in Bucky’s ass, but he decided not to think about it and focused on his incoming stomach ache. 

Fuck, now Bucky had to clean his classroom and prepare everything. What if one of those Karen parents shows up and starts complaining about stupid things? About how his classroom is Lord of the Rings theme and how that's bad for kids? Maybe about how he’s a male teacher? He is already spiraling.

“Oh, you are talking about Amaya’s mom? I met her when I was Amaya’s kindergarten teacher. She’s really nice and - “ Wanda started talking but was interrupted by her twin brother Pietro, the gym teacher. 

“She is also smoking hot. Like ultimate Milf in this whole school. ” He comments, which makes Bucky feel even worse because how will he talk with a pretty girl? He hasn’t done that since college. 

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother and sat down next to Steve to eat her lunch.

“You’ll be great though, Barnes. She’s really nice, and you are a great teacher, so you won’t have any problems with her.” Wanda reassures her coworker. Bucky takes a deep breath and takes another bite off his sandwich. 

“And I still  believe my son should be seated in the front.” Mrs. Robinson complained, which she had been doing for the past hour and a half. Going past the hour dialogue they are supposed to be having. But since Amaya’s mom is running late.

“Mrs. Robinson, I understand, but some kids in the classroom require specific accommodations. Because of that, the entire front row is taken. So I can’t sit Tommy in the front. “ Bucky explained for the 10th time. Mrs. Robinson just rolled her eyes and huffed. 

Before she could complain again, someone knocked on the door. A woman in formal and professional clothing stepped into the classroom. Amaya popped into the classroom with the brightest smile.

“Mister Bucky! I brought Momma!” She screamed excitedly. Amaya’s mom tried to quiet her, but from Bucky’s experience, Amaya is impossible to corral. 

“Well, Mrs. Robinson, my 4 o'clock is here.” Bucky said nervously, trying to politely kick out Mrs. Robinson and her big-ass attitude. 

“We could discuss this further in another parent-teacher conference.” It took everything for Bucky not to roll his eyes. Fucking self-observed parents think their children are the only ones that matter, Bucky thinks to himself.

“Sorry for my tardiness; I got held up at work.” Amaya’s mom apologizes. Woah, she really is pretty, Bucky thinks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Bucky says, trying to catch his breath. 

“Please call me (Y/N).” She smiled sweetly at Bucky. Bucky gulped.

“Let me get to the point; Amaya is a fantastic student. One of the best. She is above her group’s reading level. She writes pretty clearly for her age. No complaints from me; whatever you are doing at home is workin’.” Bucky explained, (Y/N) smiling at her daughter, who was too entertained with Bucky’s snowball on his desk. 

“Thank you, but I can’t take that much credit. Maya absolutely adores you.” Bucky blushes at her praise. 

“She’s a good kid; it’s easy to teach kids like her.” Bucky praised Amaya, who was surprisingly quiet. Which would scare Bucky because if there’s one thing he learned from teaching first graders is that quiet means trouble. But he dismissed it because she wouldn’t do anything wild with her mom right next to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for everything. With getting a new job and having to provide for my family, you’ve literally given me so much peace.” (Y/N) leaned in closer. 

“If I am being honest, I was worried about ‘Maya’s performance at school. “ She whispered, but Bucky gave her a reassuring smile. 

“Amaya, could you please give these papers to Mr. Rogers?” Amaya nodded and grabbed the papers Bucky had handed her. Then, Bucky sent a text to Steve telling him to keep Amaya out of his classroom to talk to her mom.

“I haven’t noticed a difference in her behavior if that makes you feel any better,” Bucky reassured her. She sighed.

“I am worried about her. Ever since she was born, her dad has been in and out of her life. Now he has disappeared for good. Amaya has been acting like it doesn’t bother her, but no first grader should hide their feelings.” She confesses. Bucky wants to do two things. 1) kick Amaya’s father for being a piece of shit and abandoning such a precious child and her mom. And 2) himself for getting excited by hearing that (Y/N) is single. He can already hear his mother chastising him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that (Y/N).” Bucky said earnestly. She just shook her head.

“It’s okay. Any advice for me?” She said in a joking tone, trying to alleviate the tension. Bucky lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“Just keep being there. In my experience, being present and making the child feel like they have a support system is the best way to help them during this difficult time.” Bucky smiled at her. 

“Thank you. See you on Monday?” (Y/N) said, getting up from her chair.

“Yes. Definitely.” Bucky felt his heart beating at a faster pace. 

This school year was definitely going to be interesting. So Bucky thinks, watching Y/N walking out of his classroom.

What Bucky doesn’t know is that Amaya plans to make life more enjoyable. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she heard Auntie Tasha’s voice and decided to say hi.

“Nat, you could’ve warned me, you know!” (Y/N) explained. Natasha laughed, handing her best friend a glass of wine. 

“He is hot, isn't he?” Natasha grins. Amaya looked at her mom, who had a goofy smile. She has never seen her mom with a smile like that. 

“Ridiculously hot. And his eyes? Nat, his eyes are just so gray. I almost spilled my entire life story right there and then.” (Y/N) groans. Natasha just laughs.

“It should be illegal to have a first-grade teacher look that hot.” (Y/N) added, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Just wait till you see him in casual Fridays. That man looks excellent in a Henley. “ Natasha joked, but that seemed to disturb (Y/N) even more. “Look out ‘Maya you might have a new daddy.” 

What auntie Tasha said made Amaya think. Mister Bucky was her favorite teacher, and she wished her momma would be happy. Them together would mean that she would have Mister Bucky around forever, and Momma would be happy and have a goofy smile like that forever. 

That’s when Operation get Mr. Bucky and Momma together was born. 

Every day after finishing her classwork, Amaya would go to Bucky’s desk and talk to him. Most of the things she said were little seeds to push him to get close to her mom.

Today was different; Amaya’s patience was thinning. A week passed, and every day when her mom would pick her up, she saw the googly eyes her mom and Mister Bucky were giving each other. It’s time for the big guns, Amaya thought.

“Mister Bucky, do you have a dad?” Buck was shocked at Amaya’s question. 

“Yes, I do.” Amaya sighed dramatically after hearing Bucky’s answer. 

“I don’t… I wish I knew what that was like.” Bucky’s heart broke hearing that. Amaya had her head down, but Bucky couldn’t see her smirk. 

“You will one day. I promise.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t say that but wanted to uplift her and give her hope.

“Hey, Mister Bucky, maybe you could be my dad!” Amaya said, doing a complete 180 in her demeanor. Bucky almost spits out his coffee, and he starts to cough. But unfortunately, he fell right into Amaya’s trap.

“I don’t know about that, Amaya,” Amaya smirks. 

“But Mister Bucky, momma already likes you. You would be a great dad.” Was it embarrassing for Bucky that his 6-year-old student was trying to hook him up with her mom? Maybe but hearing that said mom liked him did give him a bit of an ego. 

“Really?” Amaya nodded enthusiastically. 

“She said that she really likes your eyes.” Amaya admitted. Bucky knew he shouldn’t be asking these questions. If Sam knew, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

“Is there anything else she said?” Bucky asked, acting casually as if a 6-year-old was gonna read his body language. However, Amaya is too smart for her own good. 

“I heard her telling Auntie Jen that she liked it when you wear red shirts.” Bucky made a note to buy more red shirts after school. 

“Is your mom going to pick you up today?” Bucky asked; Amaya nodded. 

“She said we were going to the mall today,” Amaya explained. She could feel her plan working, but who knows? Grown-ups were weird.

Bucky’s heart needs to catch a break. That being said, seeing (Y/N) every afternoon, his poor heart won't be getting any. Especially when she came in with her lawyer suits. It was like a punch in the gut. 

But what really hit him like a punch in the gut was what Amaya said when her mom came to pick her up.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards her mom, who was waiting outside the classroom. 

“Momma, Bucky said he would be my daddy.” Amaya said with the biggest grin. Bucky choked on his own saliva and started coughing. While (Y/N) just started laughing. 

“Did he now?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, that was excited that her plan “worked.” 

“I- uhm. I didn’t say that she took it out of context. But, I mean- I” Bucky’s ramble was interrupted by (Y/N).

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I know how Amaya can be. Don’t worry.” Bucky sighed out of relief. 

“Mommaaaaa…” Amaya whined; her mom just rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, ‘Maya?” (Y/N) asked in a snarky tone. Amaya signaled to her to lean down. Amaya whispered something to her. (Y/N) giggled with her daughter. 

“Mr. Barnes, would you like to go out for coffee someday?” (Y/N) asked, Amaya still giggling behind her mom. 

“I would love to.” Bucky said, which caused Amaya to do a little victory dance in the back. As if nobody could see her. (Y/N) turned around and laughed at her daughter’s antics. She pulled something out of her jacket, a piece of paper.

“I have to go, Mr. Barnes. Sorry for my little troublemaker.”She said, handing him the piece of paper with her personal phone number. Bucky was confused.

“What is this for?” Bucky asked, utterly confused about what this meant. 

“For whenever you would like to get that cup of coffee.” She told him, grabbing Amaya’s hand and walking towards his card. 

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He might admit that Amaya was his favorite student, even if she played matchmaker. 

He looked down at the card. Oh, he is gonna call.  

andrew’s spiderman and ryan’s deadpool WHEN

Let Andrew Garfield and Ryan Reynolds and Tom Hardy all come together for a Spiderman Deadpool Venom movie and watch the world collectively melt down from how goddamn WEIRD the movie would be, plus none of us would know who TF to ship in that ensemble.

Deadpool arriving in the Marvel movies, scenes like this become possible:

I can easily see Ryan Reynolds & Andrew Garfield interacting. 🤣❤️

*would be my dream?*

the boston brute series masterlist

The Boston Brute

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake. 

A/N: This series has smut, this is an 18+ blog. Minors, DNI. The drabbles for this series are placed under the corresponding parts :)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. 

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

Smut = 🔥

I no longer have a taglist! Please head over to @time-for-a-library​ and turn on notifications!

Part 1 - Mr. Evans (w/c = 7k)

Part 2 - Sweden Sounds Nice (w/c = 8k)

Part 3 - The First Game (w/c = 7.8k)

Part 4 - What Are You Doing In My House? (w/c = 9.1k)

Part 5 - I Should’ve Known (w/c = 8k) 🔥

Part 6 - Don’t Give Up On Me (w/c = 9.8k)

Part 7 - Maleficent (w/c = 7.7k)

Part 8 - Baby Steps (w/c = 7.1k)

Part 9  - Baby Steps Be Damned (w/c = 6.6k) 🔥

Drabble: Texts with Chris and Marlowe While You’re Sick

Part 10 - The Haunted Hollywood Gala (w/c = 12.8k) 🔥

Drabble: Unchained Melody

Drabble: Cut From The Same Cloth

Drabble:  She Sounds Like A Bitch

Part 11 - Good Boyfriend Moment (w/c = 6.4k) 🔥

Drabble: Home

Drabble: Promise?

Part 12 - Welcome To Sudbury (w/c = 9.3k)

Part 13 - “Bye, Princess” (w/c = 9.3k)

Part 14 - “Is This Enough For You?” (w/c = 7.2k)

Epilogue - Pt. 1 (w/c = 1.2k)

Epilogue - Pt. 2 (w/c = 1.2k)

Epilogue - Pt. 3 (w/c = 1.3k)

The Boston Brute Character Face Claims

The Boston Brute Series Playlist