bigtreefest

[bigtreefest]

hello there ☺️ im done with the big event i was prepping for the entirety of july (had a great time! large serotonin hit!) and i can feel the groove sliding back into my bones!!

now i'm looking to work on my wips and/or maybe start more 👀 but im burdened with choices :^0 therefore i need your help bc i miss interacting with everyone and i value your opinions!! 🫶🏻

gonna write >:((

[bigtreefest]

Hm, first instinct is Steve!

As you fall into his lap, the phone call he’s on is interrupted by “oh, hello” with that charming smile of his. He’s pleasantly surprised.

He instantly wipes away all you’ve got to say with his hand in the air, and you’ve got no idea how he could possibly silence your babbling, but he does. Before you can even process that happening, though, the car is already moving and he’s resumed the phone call.

He doesn’t even bother to cover the microphone when he asks, “what’s your size?” followed by a facepalm.

“That was rude of me. Never mind. I’ll just send a picture to my assistant and she’ll know. She always knows.”

Your brow furrows in confusion, which he must pick up on, offering half an explanation as he hands you a chilled water bottle from the center console.

“We’re on the way to a charity gala. I was afraid of showing up without a date, but you’re just on time. A princess needs a dress, though.”

Hoe pop quiz!

Which mob CE!babe is most amused—and pleased—when your sweet human disaster self accidentally mistakes his town car idling at the curb as your rideshare, and he suddenly has a lapful of you all O_O and flustered as you try to stutter out an apology and explanation all rolled into one? And what happens next?

[bigtreefest]

😭😭 this is so beautiful. Jake truly is a great husband. So understanding and accommodating and just what Sharky needs. You know the top of the head kisses and cheek and back rubs and reassurances really get me. They’re so intimate and grounding🥺

And the nightlight! How adorable. I love that Jake is able to sleep through it. There’s something so endearing about his military training allowing him to do so. They’re so meant to be

Zombie!! In The Arrangement, I know Sharky was so used to the way her family treated her, but after escaping it all with Jake, do you think she truly realizes the grief of what she went through? Are there times she has nightmares and Jake has to comfort her after?🥺

Nothing like being out of a situation for you to realize how fucked up it was. 😓

The Arrangement: Rough Nights

Warnings: Past abuse. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Series Masterlist

Jake had told you he could sleep just about anywhere. His military background had trained him to sleep whenever and however he could. He raised no objections when you needed to sleep with a light on. Showed no judgment at you being afraid of the dark.

With the therapy came exercises in behavior adjustment. Learning to be more assertive with regards to your boundaries. Practicing saying "no" to things you don't want to do.

And, at your request, learning to sleep with the lights off.

You didn't want to go fully dark right away, you weren't sure you could handle that. Jake, ever supportive, found a jellyfish nightlight that you could set up wherever you wanted. It was much gentler than having the bedside lamp on but still bright enough that you didn't panic, looking into the darkness for one of your brother's "pranks".

As he'd promised, Jake was able to sleep with any and all lights on. Some nights you were good with just the nightlight. Other times you couldn't sleep until you had the lamp on, just to be safe. And Jake didn't object to what you needed. He could sleep through all of it.

Well, almost all of it. The only thing that seemed to wake him up was when you were having a nightmare. He'd never be able to say what exactly it was that woke him. Maybe it was your whimpers. Perhaps you were trembling in your sleep and the vibrations woke him.

Regardless of what it was that woke him, the second he registered you were having trouble, he was gently waking you up, freeing you from your nightmares. Gentle caresses along your cheek, his voice steady but pleading. He hates seeing you so scared but a gentle wake up is better for you than being shaken awake.

And when you wake up, you always cry and cling to him. He holds you tight, alternating between reassurances and kisses to the top of your head, all the while gently rubbing your back.

He knows you'll need the light on to go to sleep after that, and that's okay by him. Your mental health is what matters most and he'll make sure you never doubt that you're a priority.

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @embarrasingmf; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @missaprilt23; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63; @watermelonslut

[bigtreefest]

As soon as I got the image in my head, I just couldn’t shake it!! To me, lloyd and Ransom have similar motivations but different methods of action. And I just think after all the degradation Ransom has dealt with in his life, he wouldn’t be able to dish it to you, but dealing with it is something he’s mastered. He’s just so exhausted of the harsh ways and ready for the softness!

You have a mean dom who’s degrading and pushing limits. And your soft dom who’s cooing and cuddling you — who are they?

Oh, Syd. You know me and you know my main babes, so I bet this is gonna seem like such a wild answer to you… especially when you see who the soft one is…

Let’s go… Lloyd Hansen x reader x Ransom Drysdale

Lloyd lives for the degradation. He’ll point out every little thing. You’re whining for him? Squirming? Begging for his touch? That’s too bad, pumpkin. You better earn it.

Oh. Is that too much? But this is what you asked for… you can give me one more, can’t you? That’s what I thought. Don’t questions me. I know your limits.

It’s a lot. Almost always feels like too much, but you love it. Isn’t that right, cupcake? It means he’s paying attention to you and your drippy pussy. 😶‍🌫️

But who could balance that? Someone who knows what it’s like to have that little bit of of a mean degrading spirit, but knows this one comes from love. Ransom understands exactly the right ways to put you back together. He’s your soft, comforting, cuddly dom. He’ll give you a tender kiss on the cheek as Lloyd pounds into you mercilessly. He’s stroking your wrists with a tender touch as he pins your hands over his head. You never have to question the warmth in his eyes as he praises you and smiles when you tip over the edge for the nth time that day.

They’re a deadly combination, but one thing they can kill is their love for you…even if they show it in entirely different ways🥰

[bigtreefest]

Did you know butterflies also like the taste of human blood?

Let’s be honest, butterflies are like two steps off of mosquitoes. Look at that proboscis! Just like Jake would say, “not to be trusted.”

[bigtreefest]

You have a mean dom who’s degrading and pushing limits. And your soft dom who’s cooing and cuddling you — who are they?

Oh, Syd. You know me and you know my main babes, so I bet this is gonna seem like such a wild answer to you… especially when you see who the soft one is…

Let’s go… Lloyd Hansen x reader x Ransom Drysdale

Lloyd lives for the degradation. He’ll point out every little thing. You’re whining for him? Squirming? Begging for his touch? That’s too bad, pumpkin. You better earn it.

Oh. Is that too much? But this is what you asked for… you can give me one more, can’t you? That’s what I thought. Don’t questions me. I know your limits.

It’s a lot. Almost always feels like too much, but you love it. Isn’t that right, cupcake? It means he’s paying attention to you and your drippy pussy. 😶‍🌫️

But who could balance that? Someone who knows what it’s like to have that little bit of of a mean degrading spirit, but knows this one comes from love. Ransom understands exactly the right ways to put you back together. He’s your soft, comforting, cuddly dom. He’ll give you a tender kiss on the cheek as Lloyd pounds into you mercilessly. He’s stroking your wrists with a tender touch as he pins your hands over his head. You never have to question the warmth in his eyes as he praises you and smiles when you tip over the edge for the nth time that day.

They’re a deadly combination, but one thing they can kill is their love for you…even if they show it in entirely different ways🥰

[bigtreefest]

gentle reminder: you are loved and appreciated by so many people

[bigtreefest]

reblog to tell your mutual you’re proud of them and it’ll all work out

[bigtreefest]

inch by inch.

part one | part two | part three pairing: man of your choice x you rating: explicit warnings/tags: p in v, slow build, mild cock warming, fingering, female orgasm, penetration, soft filth.

He stays buried deep, not moving, not rushing. Just thick and warm and pulsing inside you.

You can feel everything —the weight of him, the way he stretches you, the impossible fullness that leaves you gasping into the crook of his neck. Your legs shake where they’re splayed wide, still trembling from how wide you tried to open for him. Your walls flutter around him, greedy, desperate, and he moans low in your ear like the clench of your cunt is going to break him in two.

You don’t want him to move.

You want this.

The feeling of him inside you —not thrusting, not fucking, just there. Like you’re made to take him. Like this is what your body was built for.

You can feel the tension in him too. The way his arms tremble where they cage you in. The way his cock twitches inside you like he’s holding himself back with everything he’s got.

He presses his forehead to yours, breath hot and uneven. “You feel…” he doesn’t finish. Just groans.

And that’s enough.

You shift your hips, just slightly, and it drags a whisper of friction through you —sharp and dizzying. He twitches again, deeper now, and your eyes roll back as pleasure ripples through your belly.

But still… he doesn’t move.

Not yet.

He just keeps holding you open. Stretched. Owned.

One hand slides up your thigh, slow and reverent, palm skimming the place where your legs meet and you’re soaked. His fingers find your clit with maddening precision, and he strokes it lazily —just enough to make your hips jerk, just enough to make your walls flutter around his cock again.

You whimper.

Your body’s all nerves, slick heat and need, stretched wide and still so greedy.

“I could stay here forever,” he murmurs, voice thick and ruined. He just keeps you there —stretched and stuffed, split open on him— while his fingers move softly, relentlessly over your clit.. “Just like this. Buried inside you. Watching you fall apart.”

You moan his name —half-gasp, half-prayer.

He watches your face.

Every flicker of sensation that crosses your features. Every flutter of your lashes, every part of your lips. Every soft gasp when his fingers press a little firmer, or when your walls clench tight around the cock inside you.

And you do. You keep clenching.

You can’t stop.

Because it’s too much. The fullness. The burn. The pulse of your clit under his fingertips, the way he knows exactly how to move them. Just perfect. The friction low and hot, spiraling tighter and tighter in your belly until you can barely breathe.

“Come for me,” he whispers.

Not because he’s chasing your orgasm —but because he wants to feel it. Wants to feel your body break around him. Wants to feel your cunt clamp down and flutter while he’s buried deep and still inside you, not giving you the thrust you’re so desperately craving, just holding you open and letting your pleasure tear through you anyway.

Your whole body goes tense. Back arching, mouth open, legs quivering.

And then you come.

It rips through you —hot and sudden and overwhelming. Your cunt pulsing hard around his cock, clenching again and again like your body’s trying to milk him, even though he hasn’t moved another inch.

Your hips jerk. Your thighs tremble. And he groans into your throat, deep and filthy, like the squeeze of your cunt around him is better than any orgasm he’s ever had.

Still, he doesn’t move.

Just lets you ride it out. Lets you whimper and shake beneath him. Lets your walls flutter and grip, over and over, every throb sending another jolt of raw pleasure through your overstimulated nerves.

You’re soaked. You can feel it —the slick between your thighs, the mess dripping down around where you’re joined.

And he’s still so deep.

So heavy inside you.

So fucking hard.

“God,” he breathes, voice rough and wrecked. “You feel incredible when you come.”

You blink up at him, dazed, your body still twitching with aftershocks.

And he smiles.

Because now he’s going to fuck you. Only after he’s felt you fall apart around him —exactly like this.

part three. thanks for reading ♡

[bigtreefest]

inch by inch.

part one | part two | part three pairing: man of your choice x you rating: explicit warnings/tags: p in v, slow build, mild cock warming, penetration, soft filth.

You’re already breathing heavy, thighs twitching where they rest against the sheets. He hasn’t touched you properly yet. Not where you need, but his hands are everywhere else —teasing the curve of your waist, brushing up your sides, stroking along the inside of your knee just to watch you shiver.

And then his voice, low and coaxing, curls over your skin like heat.

“Spread your legs, baby. That’s it… Wider.”

It’s not a command —it’s a request soaked in praise, spoken like he already knows you’ll listen. And you do. Your thighs part further, knees falling open for him, heat pulsing between them, bare and slick and throbbing.

He watches you with a slow exhale, like the sight of you undone is a gift.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

His hands trail down again, palms warm and steady, and his fingers dip just under the crease of your thigh, holding you open as he settles between your legs. His shirt is still on, unbuttoned and clinging to his sides, the contrast of cool fabric against your heated skin making your breath hitch when he leans in.

You feel him —the heat of his breath against your knees, the way his chest brushes against your thighs, the heavy drag of his cock just barely grazing your slick folds. Not inside. Not yet.

He’s teasing you, letting you feel the weight of him there— thick and warm and pulsing— but not giving in. Not thrusting. Not filling.

You want to beg.

But you don’t have to speak. Your body’s already doing the pleading for you —slick dripping onto the sheets, your hips arching up, your hands clutching at his shoulders, his name caught in your throat like a broken sob.

And he’s so calm about it.

He just kisses the inside of your knee like he’s got all the time in the world, letting his fingers trail higher, higher, until he’s pressing the soft flesh just beside where you need him most. You tremble. You writhe. Your eyes fall shut.

“Look at you,” he murmurs again, voice rougher now. “So pretty like this. Dripping for me.”

You can feel him smiling against your knee as he presses closer. His cock nudges your entrance, slow and slick, the head just barely pushing in —and your whole body tenses in greedy anticipation.

He still doesn’t thrust.

Just rocks forward, one slow inch, until your breath breaks and your nails dig into his back.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers again, breath hot against your neck now as he finally starts to sink into you. “Let me in. Just like that.”

And you do.

You open for him, take him in —inch by inch, stretch by stretch— and the groan that tears from his chest when he bottoms out is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

He holds there, buried deep, not moving. Just breathing. Just feeling the way your walls flutter around him, the way your body clenches like you never want him to leave.

You don’t.

You never do.

part two. thanks for reading ♡

[bigtreefest]

inch by inch.

part one | part two | part three pairing: man of your choice x you rating: explicit warnings/tags: p in v, mutual orgasms, mild overstimulation.

You’re still pulsing around him when he finally moves.

It starts with a twitch —his cock jerking inside you as if your orgasm dragged the last of his control right out of him. And then his hips draw back, slow, thick, dragging along soaked walls made tighter by aftershocks.

You sob. Still, your cunt clenches like it doesn’t want to let him go.

But he doesn’t stop.

He pulls out halfway, just enough to make your cunt flutter in protest —and then he slams back in, hard and deep, knocking the breath out of you in one ruined moan.

It’s raw after that.

No more patience. No more teasing.

Just the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the wet, filthy squelch of his cock plunging into you again and again. The sharp drag of his teeth on your neck, the low curse he groans when you tighten around him mid-thrust.

He fucks you like he’s been holding back for hours. Like your first orgasm broke something open in him. His hips snap forward in brutal rhythm, each thrust punching a gasp from your lungs, making you arch and tremble and cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in the world.

You’re already too sensitive.

Still, your body climbs again —too fast, too hard— pushed past overstimulation straight into a second crest. And he feels it. Feels the way your thighs start to shake, the way your cunt clamps down tighter with every thrust.

“Yeah, baby,” he pants into your ear, hot breath against your cheek. “That’s it. Fuck, give it to me again.”

You do.

You fall apart a second time, squeezed around him, so full and stretched you swear you can feel him in your throat. Your orgasm hits harder —messier— your cunt spasming around his cock, milking him with every pulse.

And this time, he doesn’t hold back.

He drives into you with a low, broken moan and spills inside, thick and hot, buried to the hilt while your bodies shudder together. You can feel it —the warmth, the flood— and the way his hips grind through it like he never wants to leave your body again.

He doesn't pull out.

He just breathes into your neck, still twitching inside you, both of you slick and shaking and wrecked.

His cock softening slowly, still buried deep.

Still home.

thanks for reading ♡

[bigtreefest]

Omg🫣 it’s true, that stamina is maddening in the best way 🫠 and somehow he’s still so soft as he’s taking you apart!!!

More Than Human

Summary: Clark wants to show you just how much...stamina.. he has for you.

WC: 428

Warnings: non graphic smut

Pairing: F!Reader x Clark Kent

Read on ao3!

You’d known Clark wasn’t normal. The quiet strength in his arms. The way he always knew just when to catch you if you tripped — literally or emotionally. The heat of his body when he held you, like sunlight lingered in his bones.

But you hadn’t fully grasped the reality of it. Not until tonight.

The second time you came, he was still in control. Gentle, focused, murmuring your name like a prayer, stroking your skin between every kiss. The third time, he was still slow, worshipful, taking his time like he had infinite hours.

By the fifth, your legs were shaking and your hands couldn’t find purchase on the sheets, and Clark — calm, flushed, glowing slightly in the moonlight — was still moving like he hadn’t broken a sweat.

He kissed down your shoulder as you gasped for air. “You doing okay?”

“Clark,” you whispered, dazed, “how are you not tired?”

He laughed softly, nuzzling against your neck. “Didn’t I mention the enhanced stamina?”

“I thought that meant… like… saving trains. Flying. Not…” You moaned softly as his fingers brushed lower again. “Not this.”

He chuckled again, low and warm, hands splaying across your hips. “I’m still holding back, sweetheart.”

You blinked up at him. “You’re what?”

He leaned over you, dark curls falling into his eyes, a teasing glint behind the gentleness. “I’ve got years of restraint. I’ve dreamed about this — you — every day I was pretending to be just some clumsy reporter.”

Your breath caught as he sank back down, lips brushing your pulse. “So now,” he whispered, “I want to show you exactly what I’ve been holding back.”

You whimpered.

He kissed your throat. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded — or tried to — but then he moved again, deeper this time, and all you could do was cling to him, fingers curling into his strong shoulders, as the waves kept building again.

Time blurred after that.

You lost count at seven. Or maybe eight. Clark never did. He kept whispering your name, stroking your cheek between the crests of pleasure, murmuring, “Just one more,” like he meant it — every single time.

And when you were finally trembling, breathless and glowing from head to toe, Clark curled you against his chest, holding you close like the world might try to take you from him if he ever let go.

“Still think I’m just a small-town guy in glasses?” he asked with a crooked, sleepy smile.

You pressed your lips to his collarbone and whispered, wrecked, “You’re insane.”

He kissed your forehead. “Only for you.”

[bigtreefest]

Eeeeee! I love this! It’s so soft and domestic. What a wonderful little pack!!🥹🥰

Ari’s a good alpha because he indulges Jake’s interests🥺 and how elated omega is to see him!!

Hi Syd! Happy belated birthday! Hope you’re enjoying your weekend so far! I’ve got a little request for your sleepover🥺

📚babe of your choice + stargazing

Thank you, Essie! This was a hard decision, cause you will either get Jakey or Ari. So, enjoy.

“And this is—“ Jake points at the next constellation of stars. The sky is dark blue, the stars perfectly visible and your Beta made it his mission to explain every single constellation to you.

Your head is leaned against his shoulder, following his fingers when he draws invisible lines between the stars.

“Hydra. It’s one of the largest of 88 modern constellations,” Jake explains, drawing a like that’s similar to a snake with his finger.

You smile softly, not noticing the footsteps coming from behind you. Neither does Jake when he points at one of the stars of the constellations.

“The biggest star is Alphard and it’s also the brightest star of Hydra. It’s cooler than the sun but it’s way bigger and brighter than the sun,” Jake says, a soft smile on his lips as he talks about one of his favorite things.

The footsteps from behind you come closer, the scent of an Alpha enveloping the two of you and your eyes widen as you push off Jake and look at the Alpha standing behind you.

Big, broad shoulders, middle long brown hair and a thick beard. A soft smile curving his lips upward while his blue eyes shine almost as bright as the stars.

“Ari!” You squeal as you push up to stumble to your feet, turning to run into your Alpha arms. “Alpha!”

You tackle him almost done when you jump into his strong arms, making the big alpha purr softly. He tilts his head to bury his nose in the crock of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as the tip moves over the mark he left on your neck.

“Such a sweet and eager omega,” he grumped, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he walks to where you sat next to Jake a second ago. “My eager omega. Our eager omega.”

You giggle softly, clawing at his back as he sits down, keeping you on his lap as he peppers your neck and cheeks with soft kisses.

Jake looks at the two of you, smiling softly as he hears Ari’s loud purr.

The alpha moves one of his arms to wrap around Jake’s waist, pulling him closer so he can lay his head against your shoulder.

“So, where did you stop, Jakey?” Ari asks softly, looking up at the night sky. “Hydra you mentioned.”

Jake nods, excitement written all over his face as he looks at Ari and then follows his gaze upward. Jake looks at all the constellations before he explains another one, cuddled up to you and Ari’s side.

[bigtreefest]

ooh so you like my blog? name five of my fetishes

[bigtreefest]

Heyyyoo!

How can I be on your taglist?🤗

Hi! I hope you’re doing well! To be on my Taglist, all you have to do is ask! So I’ve just added you!🤗

So happy you’re here and enjoying the fic🫶🏼

[bigtreefest]

Oh gosh. These are so amazing. So rich with emotion and deep romantic love. 🥹

Marvel VS Kissing

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers

Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor Odinson, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson

Notes: Marvel Headcannons. As always, I've not proofread and let me know if you have any feedback. <3

Steve Rogers – The Gentleman 

Style: Slow, deliberate, and reverent.Steve kisses like every moment with you is precious. He’s the type to pause just before he kisses you, letting that one breath of tension build before he closes the distance. There’s a sense of awe in the way he touches you—his hand often gently cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Forehead kisses? Constant. He adores them.

He’s not overly possessive in public, but when the moment’s private, he’ll kiss you like it’s the last time before a battle.

Whispered “You okay?” or “I missed you” between kisses. He’s verbal. He wants you to know how he feels.

Freebie: Rain. Slow dancing. Quiet after an argument. He’s all about emotional resonance.

Sweet Love in Jazz Park

They ducked beneath the edge of the old park gazebo, where the string lights swayed gently in the breeze. The crowd was thinning, laughter fading under umbrellas and retreating footsteps, but Steve didn’t want to leave—not yet.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones caught off guard.” You said, wringing the fresh water droplets from your hair, your eyes never leaving Steve’s.

He smiled softly, wiping a drop from his nose. “Yeah, but I’m glad I’m with you.” The words felt like an unexpected gift, as if they were both testing the edges of something new. His voice, low and honest, felt steady and sure.

A few seconds passed, the rain still pouring down in sheets around you both, but it didn’t matter anymore. The world had narrowed to just this—a small, quiet space where you don’t need words to feel everything that needed to be said.

Steve stepped closer, one hand gently brushing your cheek, his thumb catching a stray raindrop, and without hesitation, he leaned in.

It wasn’t a kiss born from fireworks or passion—it was softer than that. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of beginnings, of the small moments that create something bigger. A kiss of trust, of vulnerability, of something still unfolding.

Bucky Barnes – The Desperate Softness

Style: Raw, emotional, and grounding.Bucky’s kisses feel like they’re pulling him back into the present. He kisses you to remind himself he’s alive, that he’s loved, and that he’s safe. He can go from slow and soft to desperate and needy in a heartbeat, especially when he’s scared of losing you.

Often buries his hands in your hair, pulling you in like he’s afraid to let go.

Prefers private moments—he’s uncomfortable with too many eyes, but behind closed doors, he’s endlessly affectionate.

Loves quiet, close kisses where your foreheads rest together after. He breathes with you.

Freebie: Kissing your knuckles or the back of your hand when words won’t come.

I’m Done Holding Back

Bucky had been quiet in your shared room when you had asked if he was alright. He insisted he wasn’t but it was okay, that he had you and that he was just thinking, which was never fully a good thing when he was left to simmer too long by himself. You let him rant, only offering silent encouragement.

“I want to show you something, though. Something that’s mine. That’s ours.”

He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you with a purposeful stride. You didn’t back away, didn’t hesitate. Instead, meet him halfway, your breath hitching as your bodies were just inches apart.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, then reached up, his fingers grazing your cheek gently, almost as if testing the sensation of having control of this moment—having control over himself. His eyes searched for any trace of doubt, but there was nothing. Only love. Only trust.

And then, without another word, he kisses you.

It wasn’t a tentative, unsure action. It wasn’t a soft or gentle press of the lips. It was a kiss of desperation—the kind of kiss you give when you need to remind yourself of your own humanity, when you need to prove that you are alive.

Thor Odinson – The Gentle Storm

Style: Passionate, dramatic, and joyful.Thor is an all-consuming romantic. He kisses like he loves—with the force of thunder and the warmth of sunlight. There’s no holding back. Every kiss feels like he’s celebrating life, like you’re the most important moment in the universe right now.

Likes to dip you without warning.

Palm cradling your face, leaning in with eyes sparkling, then brushing your lips like it’s a ritual.

Loud laughter after kisses. “By the Norns, you’re magnificent.”

Freebie: He kisses your forehead and nose when he’s being playful, but crashes into your mouth when he’s serious.

Let Me Worship You

The fire crackles low. Outside, rain falls in sheets. Inside, Thor kneels behind you on the fur-draped floor, brushing your hair away from your neck with the gentleness of a poet.

You don’t speak. You don’t need to.

He presses a kiss just below your ear, slow and reverent. Then another, lower. His breath is warm, his touch even warmer. You tilt your head slightly, giving him permission.

He murmurs something in Old Norse against your skin—his voice like velvet and thunder.

You twist to face him, and when your eyes meet, he looks almost shy for a second. Then his lips find yours—deep, slow, sacred. Like you’re the treasure at the heart of Asgard. Like kissing you might bring back the stars.

“I have seen a thousand galaxies.” He says softly, lips brushing yours again. “None are more radiant than you.”

Peter Parker – The Tender Enthusiast

Style: Sweet, nervous, and always 100% invested.Peter kisses like each time is a gift—and he doesn’t want to waste a single second of it. He’s so in love it radiates off him. Early on, he overthinks everything (Where do my hands go? Am I too much?), but once he’s comfortable with you, he’s golden.

Can’t help but smile during kisses. His lips twitch mid-kiss. He’s hopeless.

Loves quick, constant pecks throughout the day: cheek, temple, top of your head—he’s a hummingbird of affection.

But when he’s serious? He’s surprisingly good at slow, deep kisses, with hands on your waist and a whispered “You’re everything.”

Freebie: He apologizes after first kisses. “Sorry if that was—uh, I mean, was it good? You’re amazing. Can we—can I do it again?”

Unexpectedly Bold, Unshakably Confident

You’re rambling. Peter’s watching you with this half-lidded smile—quiet, focused, and something else. Something... new.

“You’re staring.” You say, finally catching it.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. I am.”

You blink. “What?”

“You look really good when you ramble.” He says, standing from his chair. He walks toward you slowly, a subtle swagger in his step. “And I’m kinda done pretending I don’t want to kiss you every time you do.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s already there—his hands at your hips, his mouth finding yours with certainty and heat. It’s not sloppy or shy—it’s deliberate. Practiced. Grown.

When he pulls back, you’re breathless. “Where the hell did that come from?”

His lips pull to form a sly smirk. Offering a wink to you before going back for more. (He’s been watching youtube tutorials.)

Sam Wilson – The Steady Flame

Style: Smooth, slow, and deeply reassuring.Sam kisses with intention. He’s confident, relaxed, and knows exactly how to read your energy. Every kiss from him says “You’re home.” He’s present in every moment, and he makes you feel like the most grounded, loved person in the world.

He makes eye contact first. That lingering, soul-seeing kind.

His kisses are full of warmth and pressure, but always gentle. He doesn’t rush.

Will lean in and kiss you mid-sentence if you’re rambling or worried. Just to calm you.

Freebie: Pressing a kiss to your temple and murmuring, “You’re doing great” when you doubt yourself.

I’m Not Letting You Walk Away

You’re halfway to the door, shoes on, jaw clenched. The argument was low-key but heavy, and you need air.

Sam moves before you can turn the handle.

He grabs your wrist—not hard, but firm. You turn, about to snap, but he steps into your space. No words. Just presence.

Then he kisses you.

It’s not gentle. It’s not casual. It’s him saying everything he couldn’t get out in the heat of the moment. His lips are demanding, his grip strong as his mouth claims yours like he’s trying to erase the distance between you. You kiss back, surprised, breath catching in your throat.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breath shallow.

“I don’t care if we fight. I don’t care if we’re mad. But you don’t walk away. Not from me. Not from this.”

You nod, dazed. He kisses you again—softer this time—but it’s still fire under the surface.

[bigtreefest]

bestie star ily 🥺🤲🏻💕✨️💗 ive been sooo cold and tired lately you cant even imagine omg u're east coast too arent u? [sends u a beefy bucky right back]

things i dream about 📝:

how his thighs might feel if he was cuddling me and everything was fine, no apocalypse here ma'am. thicc and strong, kinda hairy so it tickles my legs so i cant help but rub against them

the soft noises he makes, curtis doesnt talk much but he probably makes all those Man™️ noises. grunting, huffing, puffing, some groaning when he stretches, mumbling when you play w his hair and trace your nails on his scalp

his beard!! does he use oil? its too dark and nice for him to not be looking after it. hehe that means he smells really really good 😌💕 when you tuck your head against his chest for the night, that's all you can smell

curtis's favorite pjs: white tee and boxer briefs, no pants 😤

you only need to wear a tank top or thin nightie when he's around, you own personal furnace. ofc you dont need pants

by now u should know i hate pants in bed

good night kisses!!! lazy kisses!!! kisses on your noses, the corners of your mouth!!!

his idle fingers tracing the shell of your ear until you droop and fall asleep 🤧💕✨️💘🫶🏻💕