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.”
CHRIS EVANS ➔ A CHARACTER STUDY THROUGH COLOURS (insp)
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
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.
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.
▏﹒﹒ fic rating: R-- this fic is meant for mature ( 18+ ) audiences only. minors do not interact. ▏﹒﹒ warnings: violence, death, walking dead level gore, suicide / suicidal ideations, mentions + descriptions of abuse and mental illness, suggestive / sexual themes. these are warnings needed throughout the series. will be updated if needed. ▏﹒﹒ desc: the silence is often deafening. you find, however, that it is easier this way, easier to fade away. to blend into the background, to be another blur of a face— easily forgotten, & overlooked. you prefer it that way, the solitude. after all, if you are alone who will be around to question the parts about you that you don’t quite understand? the stoic expression that hardly cracks, the calcutative mannerisms, the burns on your forearms? you don’t mean to seem apathetic. it is just easier that way. ▏﹒﹒ notes: this fic is still in writing! this is simply a teaser for it & the first chapter will be posted soon. a taglist for this will be created, so if you're interested pls let me know <3
fiddling with the woven bracelets, her gaze stays glued to the way they rub against her wrists. he can’t help but feel like there's something different in her expression-- almost like there was finally something there. there is something that aches deep within him as he watches her once stoic facade break slowly like glass chipping underneath the pressure of crisp, harsh winter wind. “have you ever heard of the story of the two birds on the wire?”
his eyebrows furrow, lips twitching downward. “naw,” he tells her. “i ain’t never ‘eard of it.”
“well, there's two birds on a wire,” she starts. he watches as her eyes finally look up, but not at him; part of him is disappointed that she didn't quite catch his eyes, but the other is sure he would have froze on the spot, like a gazelle in headlights; her gaze, much like others have described, is blinding, and he was sure he wasn’t too fond of anything remotely close to spotlight. she watches the fire in front of them crackling and in the embers glow he can see pain etched in the cracks chipped in her broken look. he didn’t think his chest could tighten any more than it already has. its become a common thing with her now. hes sure that, with her, hes never sure just about anything anymore. “one bird says c’mon and flies away, the other watches ‘em close and says i'm tired. tells ‘em that he wants to fly, too, but he's lying, because see, they’re two birds of a feather, swore to each other that they are always gonna stay together, but ones never going to let go of that wire. so the one that does want to fly is left with an impossible choice.”
see, he can remember quite clearly the day he finally felt understood-- heard, even if he didn’t speak a single word. he associates such a day with the smell of burning wood, maple tree sap, and the feeling of wet grass and moonshine on his skin. daryl dixon also remembers this as the day he fell hard, harder than that day at the quarry, and boy did he fall hard that day.
“does the bird stay with him on the wire, or fly away?”
the waiter
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
“the waiter was flirting with you"
"what?”
“he couldn’t stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head."
warnings: pure fluff, baby.
Keep reading
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.