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Andrew VanWyngarden 🕯️

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will barnet, "dialogue in green," 1970, lithograph

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which bucky would do this with alpine to cheer reader up when she had a bad day or to just surprise her with a cat he found

Construction worker Bucky can't be trusted to go to the animal shelter alone. He sends you one vague message that says "I'm sorry I couldn't help myself."

Since this is your loveable himbo, you know you have nothing to actually worry about it. The last time you got a message like that, he came home with a dozen three-dimensional lord of the ring puzzles he got at a yard sale.

Bucky comes into the house, whispering your name as he cradles his hands to his chest, going from room to room until he finds you sitting in the living room. He kneels in front of you, holding his cupped hands up, a bright smile on his face. "I got you something Bunny. She's almost as cute as you."

Bucky opens his hands to reveal the most adorable kitten that you've ever seen. She's so tiny, fitting in the palm of his hand, curled up, sleeping with a paw on covering her face.

You gaze at him, his blue eyes, warm and soft, flitting between the kitten and your face. You know that she's already stolen his heart and when she stretches across his hand with a soft meow, she steals yours too.

"What do you think about calling her Alpine?" He asks, placing her on your lap. He can't wait for the two of you to raise her. It'll be good practice for the future.

"It's perfect."

His eyes never leave your face, his heart beating a little faster. "It really is."

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Tiny lights: A Halloween-themed roommate! Bucky x GN reader fic

Genre: Fluff, touch of angst

Summary: You’re home alone on Halloween, and having a sad. That is, until Bucky shows up. 

Warnings: Suggestions of depression/‘having a sad’

Tiny lights

It was a dark night, and the wind howled outside... You were curled up in the corner of the sofa nibbling a cookie in front of a Hammer Horror film that wouldn’t have scared a nun.

It wasn’t much of a way to spend one of your favourite holidays. All your friends were sick or busy, bae was away, and you had been starting to feel a bit sorry for yourself. But it was something, you told yourself. 

You heard a key in the lock and were instantly on the alert. But it was only…

“Bucky!” You yelled, jumping into his arms as he stepped through the entrance.

“Hey you,” he chuckled indulgently, dropping his bag to give you a big squeeze.

“How was the trip?”

“Oh, it was - what are you wearing?”

“It’s Halloween, so I wanted to dress up.”

He squinted, pushing the door shut with his foot. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Like a… witch or something? I dunno,” you said, looking down at your striped leggings. 

“You didn’t want to go out?”

“Well. Ah, I was meant to be seeing Alice. But she’s got COVID, and no-one was free, and I only have about five friends because I go to bed at 9pm every single night…” you explained, your cheerful veneer rapidly fading. 

“So you’re watching films alone in leggings?”

“It is a bit pathetic,” you agreed, deflated. 

He stared. “Are you having a sad?”

“A bit,” you sniffled. 

“Ohhh. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into another tight hug. 

But Bucky was a fixer, and even as he hugged you, the cogs were turning in his mind.

“Ok. i got it.”

“Got what?”

“We’re gonna have our own Halloween party.” 

“Huh? It’s 8pm on a Monday., and we don’t have…”

He rolled his eyes, smirking. “Gotta think outside the box y/n. Wait there.”

And he was gone. 

Twenty minutes later he was back with a misshapen pumpkin, some tea lights, a bag of candy, and a bunch of flowers. 

“Right y/n. Here’s the plan.”

One hour later the apartment was transformed. He’d assigned you the task of making DIY decorations, and so hastily-constructed newspaper bats festooned the walls. 

He had carved No-Face from Spirited Away into the pumpkin, and filled it with tea lights. You’d turned the lights down low and set up a circle of candles on the coffee table. Their tiny lights cast a flickering glow. The place felt 100% spookier and you were thrilled.

“Thanks for doing this Bucky, I feel much better,” you said a while later, as you lay against his chest eating candy and watching Hound of the Baskervilles. 

“Well we can’t have you getting gloomy on your favourite holiday.”

You kissed him on the cheek. “Do you want a cookie?”

“Why are they green?”

“S’got matcha powder in it.”

“Are these supposed to be eyes? They look like nipples.”

“Shut up.” 

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Lavender

summary: Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know. 

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: mentions of torture, nightmares

author’s note: So I’ve seen a lot of fics of Bucky waking up as the winter soldier after a nightmare, but I was curious… what happens if he wakes up as a different version of himself?

Sometimes, what ripped you from your sleep in the early hours of the morning, while the sun hung below the tree, wasn’t the kind of paralyzing, heart-wrenching scream that could tear through you like a knife. It wasn’t always sprinting down the hall at two in the morning or violent shaking, evading swinging fists and broken table lamps.

Sometimes, it was restless movements while he slept; tossing and turning, mumbling under his breath, words that would shatter your heart with every broken ache in his voice. Sometimes, it was clinging to you in his sleep, tears wet on his cheeks, sweat dampening the sheets under him. It was the kind of fear that left a lingering, unsettled feeling long beyond he opened his eyes.

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think of me

bucky x temporarily enhanced!reader 

summary: a mission gone wrong transfers wanda’s powers to you. now that you can read minds, you find out all sorts of things bucky has been keeping to himself.

words: 2k

a/n: another random fic no one asked for!

It happened so quickly, you didn’t have a chance to stop it.

The villain-of-the-week appeared beside you, grabbing your arm. You flinched, a hand immediately flying out to shove Wanda back and safely out of the way before you kicked this guy’s ass, but—

The second you hand touched her, you felt a wave of power ripple between you, and you hit the ground as everything went black.

—-

“How’s she doin’?”

“Same as yesterday.”

“Yeah? Shit. It’s been, what, a week? What if she—“

“Don’t say it.”

“… Jesus, I didn’t mean—“

“Man, if you’re going to be an ass, just get out of here.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean— she’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a really long time, your brain registering the voices as Bucky and Sam before it drifted off into sleep again. When you woke again, it was to Bucky’s voice, panicked and scared.

“What if she doesn’t wake up? Fuck, why wasn’t I there? I’m so useless, if I can’t protect her why am I even on the team? Why didn’t I tell her? I should have told her—“

“Buck?” you mumbled, eyes fluttering open as you searched him out. You expected to see him pacing the room, that angry look on his face he always got when he was putting himself down, anxiously running his hands through his hair maybe—

Instead, your eyes met soft slate-blue ones sitting by the side of your bed, a book in his left hand and his right one holding yours. His face was filled with relief for a moment, settling into one of ease.

“Thank fuck. You’re okay.”

You frowned, the light pouring in from the window hurting your head, giving you a headache. “Are you?”

Bucky tilted his head, watching you strangely. “Why are you asking me that? You’re the one that’s been out cold for week.”

Keep reading

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friend!

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Ok, but sometimes I lose sleep over the idea of Bucky manhandling reader... is it just me?

You know, it's just that he's... so good at it.

It's too easy for him to gather your wrists into only one hand of his own. And he will still have five fingers left to torture you with. And a mouth. And he can slot his firm, steady thigh between your own.

If his body isn't enough for him to have you wrapped around his fingers (literally), his voice will do the trick. Not only is his voice just deep enough, with enough gravel, just quiet and taunting enough - he is a sergeant. He knows how to give orders, knows exactly how to drop his brows in disappointment when you prove yourself to be a complete brat.

"One more chance," he'll taunt, his voice a low sing-song. You bite back a grin, but Bucky's heart has already started pounding like a maniac over that guilt on your face, that mischief. He loves when you test his limits.

What he loves more, however, is that switch. You know the one. The one from defiance to regret. When that glint in your eyes dulls and your brows pull together into the face of a beggar. When the pain between your hips is unbearable and all you need is to be stretched. Hell, you'll take his pinky, it'd be enough for now.

That's what Bucky loves most. When you are in that state where the most primal version of you needs nothing other than the primal version of him. And he'll bare his teeth before dragging them over your sensitive skin. He'll mark you and make you sob out your release when he gives it to you. He will bury his cock and his soul so far into you, you will tense around him because you think you might split apart around him.

He likes that look on your face, that brief fear in your dumb-fucked brain, that you might actualy burst apart because of him. Because you love him so much, because you want him so much, or because he's inches away from literally tearing you apart piece by piece with his cock, his claws and his teeth.

"Good. Good," he'll grunt, thrusting into you and swiveling his hips to make you gasp. "There. That's it. Not so sure now, are you? That you can handle me?"

"I can't- I haven't-"

"No, you can't. And no. You haven't." Bucky smirks, "Can't think, haven't thought about the consequences. Poor thing. And now here you are." He sighs and licks a stripe up to your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. "My baby - all flustered and fucked."

"Yea-" You can barely choke it out, closing your eyes as your nails curl into his skin.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Hold on tight, sweetheart. I'll make you come as many times as you want."

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Nothing but green lights from here: A roommate! Bucky x g/n reader fic

Genre: angst, fluff, moping about in a car

Warnings: References to therapy

Summary: Bucky is having a tough time at therapy, so you decide to take him on a drive to cheer him up. 

This fic contains quotes from two Chelsea Wolfe songs, Anhedonia (with Emma Ruth Rundle) and Flatlands, and is also named after a Tom Vek song. I’m sorry I’m like this. 

Nothing but green lights from here

You drove along the beach road as the sun was setting. The windows were down a crack, ocean air flowing in and stroking your face. 

Lights were being switched on in houses, making you feel at once cosy and like an outsider, shut out forever. People you’d never meet, quietly getting on with life. 

Still, if you were shut out, you weren’t alone. 

Bucky stared at the scenery sliding by outside. Being driven had always made you feel safe, and it seemed to be giving him a measure of peace too, the sensation of movement, the constantly-changing coast. 

You were glad you’d encouraged him back into therapy, but he looked wrung out by the experience when you’d picked him up today. So you thought you’d take him somewhere pretty, to cheer him up. 

A sultry voice sang from the stereo -

So don't come looking for me,  I’ve got no joy to lend Protect myself like a fortress,  Isolating, bridge withdrawing Isolated, I can't take it -

-  wrapping you both in your own private world. Not music he was familiar with, but one that conjured a certain type of feeling. Music that could soundtrack pain, in your experience; a magic world, a dark beauty, suited to a man with such a past. 

Spontaneously, you pulled into a car park. Chelsea fell silent as you cut the engine. You got out and he wordlessly followed. 

You padded over the sand and clambered onto the rocks, watching the indigo sky and listening to the water babble and crash. Standing on the moonscape, you gazed at the thin lines of foam forming and cresting the swells of water as the last of the daylight melted away. 

You could hear him breathing softly next to you, shifting his weight, absorbed in his surroundings. 

After a few minutes you turned and looked at him directly, a question on your face. He nodded, and you moved back towards the warmth of the car. 

You drove through the quiet streets as the voice murmured from the speakers. 

“So I have something to ask you Bucky,” you said eventually.

“Hmm?”

“Should we get drive-thru?”

He laughed for the first time since you’d picked him up. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

~

You spread the food out between you on the bonnet of the car, gazing down at the city lights below. He took a huge first bite of his burger and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Wuuurgh,” he groaned, his mouth full. 

You snickered, taking a handful of fries. “Feeling better dear?” 

This elicited another, louder “wuuurgh” in response, and you were glad he’d decided on two burgers. 

He inhaled the first one and screwed the paper into a ball. 

“Thanks, y/n. This was just what I needed tonight.” 

“Anything for you, Bucks.” 

“Can we get burgers after every therapy session?” He asked, swatting your hand away from the fries so he could grab some. 

“Oy, eat your own fries. Sounds like a good idea.”

“Gonna be a long road,” he said reflectively, picking up the second burger and gearing up for round two. 

“Yeah. But you’re stronger than you know. And you’re not alone.”

“Very profound statement from someone with ketchup on their face.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling and ignoring the wobble in his voice. “Eat your food.”

~

He fell asleep on the drive home like a child. You stole a glance every now and then, the streetlights illuminating his relaxed, handsome face. 

You hadn’t had much of a plan when you got together. You were both complicated people with questionable pasts. But at least for now, it was working. 

“I want flatlands I want simplicity I need your arms Wrapped hard around me…”

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You deserve good things: A roommate! Bucky x gender neutral reader fic

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You’re sick, but luckily Bucky is there when it counts. 

Content warnings: Mild sickness; Reader is maybe not used to people being so nice to them.

You deserve good things

You were wheezing and sniffly. You texted Alice that you weren’t going to work today, and then you went back to sleep. 

Hunger pangs woke you up a while later, but you didn’t have the strength to move. You were lying staring at the ceiling when there was a soft knock on your door. 

“Y/n?” called Bucky. He was used to rising earlier than you, but generally you were up by this point. He opened the door a crack. 

“I’m sick or something,” you mumbled hoarsely. 

“Ah baby!” He moved into the room, sat on your bed and pressed his fingers to your forehead. “Do you need anything?”

“Coffee would be great,” you sighed, comforted by his gentle touch. 

“How about food?”

“I’ll come and make something in a minute.”

He frowned. “Or I could just get you something.”

Everything felt difficult, including a sensible response, so you made a “whrrrrr” noise and rolled your head over on the pillow. 

He chuckled. “Stay there.” 

You shut your eyes and smiled. This was nice. 

When he came back he brought coffee, toasted crumpets with jam, and an orange. He’d even sliced it up. 

“Oh wow thanks!” 

He bent to kiss your cheek, then propped you up on pillows like a Victorian invalid. The bits of your brain that were operating at a normal speed were enjoying being tended to. 

“Are you going to spoon-feed me, too?” 

He glowered. “If I have to.”

You took the hint and picked up a slice of orange. 

~

He was back at lunchtime with miso soup, a toasted sandwich and more coffee. 

You had gone straight back to sleep after breakfast, huddled under blankets, and had only recently woken up. 

“Thank you,” you croaked, too sick to care that you probably looked terrifying, trying to smile at least. 

He nodded. “I’ll be back for the dishes, then do you maybe wanna watch a movie together?”

“Don’t you have other things you should be doing?”

His face fell a little. 

“Oh not that I don’t want to,” you hastily backtracked. “I just don’t want you to waste a day hanging out with me, just because my immune system fucked out.”

He shook his head, genuinely mystified. “How could you ever say that being with you is wasting time?”

You didn’t have a smart comeback for that. Not for the first time today, you felt very wobbly. 

After lunch you curled up together and put on an anime. You leaned against him, smelling his skin with its faint hint of soap, and rested your hand on his chest.

During the film he noticed you rubbing your temples. “Let me,” he said softly, and wound his fingers into your hair to apply a gentle pressure to different points across your aching skull. You gasped with a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

~

He gently bullied you into taking a shower. “You’ll feel so much better sweetheart,” he kept saying. 

He was right. It took an effort to get to the bathroom, but the rhythm of the hot water beating on your skin and the pleasant smells soothed you, and the steam cleared your head a little. 

But Bucky wasn’t finished. When you got back to your room you found he’d put fresh sheets on the bed and flowers in a vase on the bedside table. Next to the flowers, a stack of graphic novels from the library that he’d picked up during your morning sleep, and on the top sat a large packet of crisps. 

You were rendered speechless. You stared at him, asking wordlessly if this was really all for you. 

He gave you a tiny smile, seeking approval, then moved forward to hug you when he saw your eyes welling. 

“I’ll take care a you, ok?” He muttered into your hair. 

“I don’t know if I deserve this,” you whispered into his chest. 

“Hey. Hey! Now you’re gonna make me angry. You deserve good things, y’know?”

You exhaled slowly. A tear rolled down your cheek, and was absorbed into his shirt. 

“So do you,” you replied quietly, and he hugged you a little tighter. 

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Heat trilogy: A roommate! Bucky x femme reader fic

Reposting in one freshly-baked batch.

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff. 18+ only. Not gender-neutral. Descriptions of sex, violence, trauma. More content warnings on individual posts.

Part 1: You and Bucky have been smooching for some time, but you sense he’s holding back. You decide to take the lead and turn up the heat. Smoochy. 

Part 2: Your plan to seduce Bucky was derailed by the horrors of your shared past. Where do you go from here? Angsty. 

Part 3: You and Bucky have had some tough conversations and cleared the air. Suddenly he can’t wait to have you, and it’s become clear that he’s more comfortable with you in control. Sexytime. 

Gif is not mine.

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Im currently fighting a bad cold.. that made me wondering. How would you think Bucky would take care of his girl ? 😱 he'd probably be too cute and overprotective 😭

1000% he would. He doesn't like it, not one bit. He doesn't like the little sniffles you keep making, or the way your shivering. You've insisted he doesn't have to worry but its pointless, his baby is sick, nothing is okay anymore.

"It's just a cold Bucky"

"No"

He's going to make you his ma's chicken soup but before that, he makes sure he bundles you up in a comfy blanket burrito. He puts on a movie for you to watch before getting to work. When he's done, he finds you fast asleep, looking all adorable and snuggly but you have to eat.

He wakes you up and feeds you as much as you can eat. He's not pleased when you try to get away with eating just two spoons, he insists you have to have at least half the bowl so you don't feel weak.

"M'full Bucky"

"No"

He's going to carry you around everywhere, tucked safely in his arms. You absolutely love it but you feel bad.

"I can walk Bucky"

"No"

He can feel you shiver at night and that is not okay. He wraps you under the blankets, wrapping you both in a cozy cocoon of warmth while giving you little kisses till you fall asleep. You try to tell him not to because you don't want him to fall sick too. Of course he doesn't listen.

"Baby, you'll get sick"

"No"

You giggle, giving into all his antics, he loves you more than anything else. You look up at him to find him scrolling through his phone for more cold remedies he can try so you can keep taking care of you.

"Are you always going to be this protective over me?"

"Yes"

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AI Architecture Exploration by Andrew Kudless

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Hungry For Your Living Kiss || Loki Smut

sub TDW!Loki x dom fem!reader

Summary: Loki has been locked up in his cell on Asgard for a while. You are one of Frigga’s maids and visit Loki regularly to bring him new books, as ordered by Frigga herself. The only difference: you choose to hand them over in person.

Loki has developed an interest in you but he’s buried too deep in guilt and self-hatred to do anything about it.

When you visit him again after he wakes up from a nightmare, Loki finally cracks.

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: NSFW! 18+  sub!Loki, dom!reader, face-slapping, praise kink, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, body worship, trauma, Loki having a panic attack, mentions of torture under Thanos, discussion of consent and boundaries, Loki being a soft cinnamon roll

Well, there we go. I’ve actually written smut for once, big surprise! This fic kinda developed a mind of its own at some point and now this is the end result. I don’t know what happened… 😂

Thanks to @lokisgoodgirl​ for inspiring me and being a cheerleader, and also thanks to @lokischambermaid​ for encouraging me to actually go through with writing this nonsense. I hope you enjoy it.

@muddyorbsblr​ I hope you like this too!

I haven’t written smut in a long time, so this is basically my first official attempt in… 3 years, I think. Please be kind. 😅

The title is inspired by the poem “If I Was Dead” by Carol Ann Duffy. I love her poetry and every single one of her works gives me Loki vibes. I can only recommend you check it out.

Loki stared grimly into the dungeon hallway, his vision obscured by the orange glow of Asgardian magic trapping him in this dreaded cage.

With nothing to do but reading.

And maybe waiting on new material – not that he was concerned about the plays and mythology retellings his mother kept bringing to him.

“The books I sent, do they not interest you?”

Loki bit back a comment about how he was far more interested in the maid delivering them than he cared about the books themselves. He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he turned away from the wall to face his mother.

“Is that how I am to wile away eternity?”

Loki’s voice was calm, though the words sent a flash of pain through him.

Trapped in this cell, forgotten by the world. All alone.

Bitterly, he added, “Reading.”

“I’ve done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki.”

Frigga’s calm words carried a certain emotion that he couldn’t quite place. Loki looked up at his mother, interrupting his mindless pacing around the cell.

“Have you?” he asked slowly.

Keep reading

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Teardrop on the fire / Heat part 3: A housemate! Bucky x femme reader fic

Genre: Smut, dash of angst and fluff  

Fandom: Marvel/TFATWS AU. 

Summary: Bucky wants to be shown how to f—k you, aka here have some smut. Named for the Massive Attack song.

Content warnings: 18+ only. Not gender-neutral - descriptions of M/F bodies/sex; Submissive Bucky (nothing extreme :) ), teasing; thigh-riding, oral (M receiving), fingering, apparently-unprotected sex (IUDs exist); swears

Teardrop on the fire / Heat part 3

The atmosphere in the apartment felt like the air before an electrical storm. Something was going to happen. Something powerful. 

Since you and Bucky had talked things out, things between you felt clearer, but with your lust remaining unconsummated, also kind of… awkward. 

It felt good to know he wanted you, but the tension was high. The retired assassin, with the beautiful face and almost limitless physical prowess, seemingly had nothing better to do than stare at you in the kitchen as if waiting for instructions. 

Sunday evening saw you lying on the sofa together. He was reading, his head on your stomach. You were flicking through a photography book, trying not to think about work. 

All of a sudden he closed his book, put it down, and looked you squarely in the face.

You nearly asked what was up, but the way he was looking at you made the question die on your lips. 

You raised your hand to his face and trailed your fingers through his soft chestnut hair, down his straight nose, over the constellation of moles down his cheek by his hairline. Every time you looked at his face, there seemed to be something you hadn’t noticed before, something else to wonder at. His eyes were heavy-lidded, sensual. 

Then you ruffled his hair playfully, took him by the hand, and led him into your bedroom. 

Well, so much for taking things slowly. 

~

A lo-fi playlist hummed in the background. You’d hoped it would calm you both, make a safer space.

You pushed him gently but firmly against the wall and kissed him. As it usually did when you took the lead, his body responded strongly, and he inhaled sharply, his fingers curling around your waist and pulling you closer. You ran your palms over the fabric of his shirt and his hands began to explore further in turn, moving down onto your ass and squeezing. You stroked your tongue into his mouth and he responded, grabbing your ass harder as he became more turned on. 

You pressed your hands against his toned stomach, enjoying the firmness, then moved your hands under his shirt, sliding it up his thick body, gently breaking the kiss as he moved his body down the wall to give you access and helped you take it off. 

He looked down at you, all desire, then ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Something inside you snapped. You stepped back, keeping eye contact, and pulled your own shirt over your head, moving unhurriedly but deliberately. Next you undid your pants and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them and standing before him in your underwear. 

His eyes lit up like Christmas, staring longingly but making no move to touch you. You stepped forward and pushed into him once again, more closely than before; your breasts pushed against his chest through their thin fabric, your legs parted and your groin rode up his thigh, his dick rock hard against your right hip. 

You kissed him deeply and he moaned, running his hands over your back, shoulders and neck, briefly pausing to thread themselves into your hair as he held your head to kiss you more intensely, then to your hips, where he pulled you harder against him, rubbing your body against his cock and growling into the kiss as the pleasurable friction grew. Your clit was dragged up and down his thigh, a fire kindling between your legs as his fingertips dug into your hips and ass with a painful intensity.

You guided his mouth to your neck and he kissed you there, running his tongue over your throat, you stroked his hair and closed your eyes, revelling in the warmth in your clit, his hot breath and tongue on your neck. You moaned once, twice and felt his cock twitch as he renewed his grip on your ass, rolling it in his hands, then moved his right hand to grope one of your breasts, squeezing your soft body. He moved his tongue up your jaw to under your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. 

You moved your hand down his waist and in between you, started grazing your fingers up and down his erection, coiled hard in his jeans. He gasped hard, baring his teeth, which were still pressed against your throat, and you whined, pushing into them. He sank his teeth into you almost by instinct and your eyes fluttered shut as you moved your hands to open the button of his fly, his zip.

He kept it together as you eased your hand into his underwear but when you wrapped your hand around his thick cock and ran your thumb over the slit, he twitched and practically yelled into your neck. You coaxed out his dick, hot and already sticky with precum, and ran your fingers almost idly over as much as you could reach. 

“Y/n,” he moaned, and you opened your eyes to see those irresistible blue eyes staring at you beseechingly. So responsive to the gentlest of touches; he obviously had more than a little pent-up tension to release. You decided to tease, just a little. “Yes James?”

His eyes widened at the sound of his name. “Please…”

“What’s wrong, baby?” You crooned, sliding your hand gently up and down the shaft, stroking his cheek with your nose.

His eyes rolled in his head and his eyelids fluttered. “Please… fuck me…” he whispered desperately.

You paused your motion, causing him to whine.

“Take this off,” you said softly, and he practically tore off his jeans and collapsed onto the bed, panting. You climbed on top, straddling him, and slowly eased his full length out of his underwear, pushing it against your stomach and running your hand lazily up and down. My god, he was big, and you smiled. You bent to deliver a couple of soft licks to the tip and ran your mouth and tongue up and down the shaft. He writhed underneath you. You took him into your mouth and deeper, into your throat. Sucking turned you on, and you tried not to get carried away, aware of how wet you were; you didn’t want him to finish here. 

You moved your mouth off him and away, straightening your body. He stared up at you, breathing fast, glassy-eyed, desperate. You palmed his slick cock a few times, pushing your clit against him, then arched your body higher, pushing your underwear to the side.

You eased onto him, wanting to be gentle, to make it easy for him. He closed his eyes, but the intensity of the expression on his face was powerful. He breathed out deliberately, quietly, his lips open. 

Everything was hushed as you slowly, slowly sank your body down around his gratifyingly thick cock, acclimatising to its girth step-by-step, breathing carefully. 

You began to rock your hips, causing him to let out a soft moan, then open his eyes and move his right hand to your thigh. His left hand flexed on the bed, he seemed reluctant to touch you with it. 

You looked at the muscular man clamped prone and almost helpless between your thighs as you moved them, and the feeling of power combined with the sensation of fullness inside you was invigorating. 

Your eyes flashed, you pressed your hands into his chest and clawed your fingers slightly as you began to make larger movements with your hips. 

He gasped, which turned you on even more, goddamn what a sight, gazing up at you, lips parted, wanting to be led, to be shown how to fuck you. 

You took his hands and gently moved them to your hips, watched his eyelids flicker as he gripped them, pulling you onto him more firmly. Your pussy tightened involuntarily and you moaned softly, began sliding up and down his dick with more precise movements, riding him.

The expression on his face grew dreamy as he slid his right hand up to cup your breast, tease it out from its bralette, knead it softly, pinch your nipple. You could feel a corresponding warmth in your stomach, enhancing the sensations inside you, tightening around the almost painful sensation of fullness. 

Your moans grew louder as you bounced, thighs aching, and arched your body back so you could rub your soaked clit. He watched as though he had never seen anything more arousing in his life, practically salivating as he ran his hands up your thighs, your ribs, anywhere he could reach. 

He was so beautiful during sex, you realised; damp temples, flushed cheeks, saucer-eyed, biting his lip to keep from crying out too loud. You stopped touching yourself and bent forward for a long, deep kiss, grinding a little shallower in a way that got the nerves at your entrance all worked up. He reached up to meet the kiss and stroked your tongue with his, one hand in your hair, and then you felt the thumb of his right hand press against your clit, stroking in soft circles. 

You whimpered hungrily as the sensation rocketed through your nervous system and you tightened on him once again, making him moan louder with each breath. It felt miraculous, your clit backed up against the fullness of his dick inside you, while stimulated from the front as you moved your hips to ride his fingers, building momentum. 

Your movements grew more sloppy and chaotic as you chased the release you were craving. He moved his left hand back to your hip and used it to steady his movements as he began thrusting into you from underneath, rough strokes that almost scared you in their intensity even as the wave built and built inside of you and then broke all of a sudden, you saw white, you could hear yourself screaming out your orgasm as you rode it out through his fingers. 

You abandoned yourself to the few seconds of loss of control even as you became aware that his vibranium fingers were gripping you tighter, his thrusts economical but intense as he built faster and faster. Suddenly he pulled you onto him as hard as he could and gasped in a near-silent fury of joy, coming violently inside you, releasing again and again, pleasure making his entire body pulsate, until he collapsed back onto the pillows, spent, gasping now for air. 

~

Part 1 of Heat is here (smoochy).

No one likes it, but part 2 of Heat is here (angsty).

Annnd my 'Master'list is here.

[f-ck-the-what]

Anyways I made a ship bingo card because I didn’t like the other ones floating around

Here go crazy

[f-ck-the-what]