#and their beefy boyfriends

[fitstud]

[muirmarie]

jim being canonically the shortest one of the triumvirate is genuinely so important to me lmao, like yesssssss, let that beefy babe be shorter than both his boyfriends!!!!

[sleepy-achilles]

Bringing this oldie back because not only am I watching the take but I found the old fanfic I wrote where Briar was Brixtons lost brother and him and Deckard reconnected and Deck basically adopted Michael as his mini me whilst luke and briar struggled to keep them out of trouble.

Two criminals and their much bigger police boyfriends.

Enjoy :)

[nubuckleather]

beefy bewildered boyfriend

[aaronsinferno]

Buck prioritizing his relationship isn’t weird or out of character. "He should’ve been with Bobby." Bobby was with his wife and his kids, Buck didn’t need to be there. "It didn’t make sense for—" It didn’t make sense to you, but what you would have done isn’t important because none of these characters are self inserts. "Tommy’s daddy kink topic was weird and came out of nowhere." It was initiated by Buck. They are two consenting romantically involved adult men who are both bonding and showing attraction towards one another in an intimate space. There’s absolutely nothing weird, misplaced, or inappropriate about that. Again, these characters are not self-inserts. What you would have said or done doesn’t matter. Both characters expressed how they felt in the moment on screen, so the narrative that one of them was even slightly uncomfortable at any point is untrue.

Stop projecting.

[dearharriet]

Sunday; James Potter 📺

summary: you spend a lazy sunday evening with your boyfriend, james.

word count: 1.5K

warnings: beefy!james, fem!r, established relationship, lots and lots of fluff, mentions of eating

note: BEEFY JAMES 🩷🩷 a second part (or prequel?) to this fic is up now <3

The telly hums gently beside the trickling rain outside, lulling you into a swath of late-afternoon drowsiness. The cooking competition that once effortlessly held your attention is now fuzzy at the edges, the challenges blurring together into a mess of commentary. Beneath you, the sofa seems to swallow you further and further into its enticing comfort.

Distantly, you register the sound of the lock clicking in the front door, and then the push of it falling inward. Your eyes close heavily and startle open again and again, an endless fight against sleep that you’re probably losing.

Thankfully, your boyfriend traipses into the room at that very moment, giving you a reason to turn your head and shake some of the sleep from your person.

He’d popped to the gym while you vegged on the couch, and by the looks of it he’d chanced a trail run. His ebony hair sits in slick curls, dampened with rain. The old shirt he’d thrown on is tacky over his chest and shoulders, likely absorbed with an assortment of rain and sweat. It shouldn’t make him as handsome as it does.

As he tosses his gym bag to the floor, you push yourself up the sofa cushions feebly.

“How’s my gym rat?” you ask sweetly, with a tang of teasing at the corners of your mouth. James is all smiles, leaning into the silly nickname you like so much.

“Hiya, lovey,” he sighs in response, finally settling from his long trek home. He’ll run off to shower in a moment, but for now he moves to lean over the sofa back, aiming to get a good look at you. “Miss me?”

“Mm.” James kisses you once, twice, then leans just far enough away so he can see you. “Terribly.”

“Mm,” he mimics your hum as he leans in for a third kiss, and then two more to your chin. “Same for me. Couldn’t stop thinking of my lovely girlfriend, all warm and dry and falling asleep to the telly.”

“I was not falling asleep,” you insist, even as your eyes droop faintly, dry from so much screen-time.

James lets you have this, though he smiles soft and knowing as he kneads his calloused fingers into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You sit silently like that for minutes, your forehead meeting his lips in a moment of lucky structure.

“D’you need to shower?” you eventually broach.

“Hmph,” James sighs, “yea.”

Bringing a gentle hand up, he encourages your head back, displacing it to the couch once more. As if you couldn’t possibly do that yourself. It’s a simple thing, an unnecessary thing, but one that James happily does without hesitation.

“Don’t move an inch, love. Back in a tick.”

James disappears, and defying his words—though you know he was exaggerating—you shuffle to spread yourself fully over the sofa.

The shower starts, and the chefs on the screen are up for elimination. You pay hazy attention to who wins, distracted by the muffled water lapping into the tub in the bathroom, and the rain still coming down outside.

Before you know it, you’re slipping under the blanket of sleep, your mind taking each evening apartment noise for its strange sofa dreams.

+

When you wake later, it’s significantly darker outside, and the apartment is fragrant with dinner-smells. The television is playing an antique auction show quietly. You haul up and off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen where James is working.

“Hello, boyfriend,” you greet sluggishly, still wiping sleep from your eyes. A faint headache lingers that only a sofa-nap causes, so you sally up to the cabinet to start a glass of water.

James, presiding over a simmering pan of mystery sauce, preens over his shoulder at you.

“Lovely girlfriend,” he returns. “How was your nap?”

Unsure of your answer, you hum noncommittally. James glances down at you in amusement as you settle against the counter beside the stove, facing him.

“Weird dreams,” you say as a means of explanation.

“Oh, yea?” James sets his ladle down carefully and crosses his arms. You watch his arms tense against his short black sleeves, and then trace his jaw up to watch his damp hair fall over his forehead. You nod distractedly to his question.

James borrows your water glass for a quick swallow, and you pretend to be inconvenienced. You’re sure he only takes it because it’s yours and he’s been compelled to share everything with you since you started dating—maybe even before that.

Handing the glass back and retrieving his utensil, he asks, “Was I in any?”

The answer is typically yes, and today is no different.

“Mm, I think so, yea.” You squint at the ceiling, dredging your warped dreams back to the front of your mind. “We were trying to swim but we had to get a turtle back to its owner first, and then I think the owner was Bobby Flay.”

You’re laughing at the absurdity as you recall the story, and James sends you amused little glances as he stirs.

“We’re lovely for doing as much. Did we get to swim for our troubles?”

“Nope,” you say disappointedly, “the dream changed to something else after that. I don’t remember what.”

James forces a frown that you think is meant to be lighthearted.

“Rubbish,” he curses. “Day ruined.”

Despite his dramatics, James’ free hand snakes over your torso, slipping under your thick sweater to soothe the skin of your hip. You smile contentedly, headache already ebbing away from the water and his hands and the promise of dinner very soon.

“Was your shower very pleasant?”

“So pleasant,” James agrees immediately, and you can imagine the simple pleasure of hot water on rain-wet hair. It makes you run your palm up his bicep, soaking in his warm skin, his clean clothes.

“Mm. I’m glad.”

A moment later, James steps away to fish a spoon from the silverware drawer. Returning, he dips it into his stew and offers it to your mouth.

“Taste,” he says, but you’re already closing your lips around it. You’d thought it was some kind of pasta sauce, but it’s significantly more rich and spicy than expected. It’s good.

“Curry?” you guess. James nods happily. “I like.”

Giving it his own taste-test, James seems to be happy with the flavor, too. A few more stirs for good measure and then he’s flipping the burner off and thwacking the spoon over the pan to rid any excess.

He moves around like a trained professional, removing the pan from the heat and wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. Competence is always sexy, but James has a way of amping it up further, twisting the metaphorical knife of affection you’ve taken for him.

There’s no arrogance in what he does, despite how good he is at it. He’d brag for days on end about his prowess in the gym, or on the field, but there’s a dexterity he has at home, too, that he doesn’t seem interested in flaunting. It’s the happiest you see him, when he’s practicing this genius of domesticity, and it makes your chest ache.

“Thank you, Jamie,” you muster sweetly, as he ferries your bowl and his to the living room. You reclaim your place on the sofa, and James settles in beside you.

You eat in a fuzzy silence, not really paying attention to anything in particular, just enjoying the food and the company.

“Good?” James ensures, glancing at you. You hum around a bite, enthusiastic. “Not too hot, you’re sure?”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him, calf pressing against his. “I was so hungry.”

“I bet,” he agrees.

Lapsing back into silence, you both pay haphazard attention to the TV once more. When your bowl is empty, you place it beside James’ and ease back into his waiting arms thoughtlessly. It’s like pinging from one good thing to the next—out of the meadow and into the clouds. You sigh.

“I love Sundays.”

James hums his agreement, the sensation shivering up your back. He follows with a press of his mouth, just over your temple.

“Love you, dear.”

The nickname makes your lips lift. James only calls you dear every so often, when he’s feeling truly, undeniably sappy.

You tilt your head up to catch his eye, watching his expression soften the same way yours does. Twisting in his hold, you press a kiss to his strong chin, his aquiline nose—reach up to fix his glasses, just because he’ll let you.

James strokes your back like a harp, and your humming is the music. You know you’ll go to work tomorrow, and you’ll miss him all day, but for now time feels doused in molasses. The apartment—James and you included—is swimming in the thick, sweet flood of your idle words and touches, as it will be tomorrow night, as it was the night before. It’s enough to make the long weeks worthwhile.

“Love you, too, Jamie,” you say, and then it’s him lulling you to sleep instead of the cooking channel.

+

thank you for reading! 🏹

masterlist

[ramp-it-up]

Party Games

Summary: You want it bad.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: This wasn’t the kink y’all picked, but here we are. It’s two am. 🥴 Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to That Face.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Reader is owning her sexuality. This is about a nal s ex and it’s enjoyment. Allusions to past acts and partners. A teeny bit of angst, but mostly pwp. Bucky has turned reader out but he’s sprung. Drinking, bathroom s ex, mirror s ex, rough s ex, (but Bucky’s so sweet), oral s ex (f receiving), a nal, praise/degradation kink, allusion to group s ex if you squint. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. 

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were having fun at game night. Until the bottle pointed Bucky’s way.

Then the fun turned into need.

“Choose anyone here to do anything with.”

“That’s easy,” Nat laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“No. I’ll give James a pass. He can go with anyone he’d like.”

You were confident of your man.

Bucky’s face lit up.

“Really Doll?”

You hesitated. You didn’t like the way he jumped at that chance. Curse your mouth that ran ahead of your brain when you were tipsy.

You fixed your face as Steve smirked at you two and took a swig of his beer.

“Really James. Live your fantasy.”

Your voice was less confident now.

You held your smile as Bucky grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking around his circle of friends.

He could choose any one of these beautiful people. You'd heard tales of how wild it got with them being in the field before you got together, and even of him and Steve, years ago.

‘Adolescent exploration,’ Bucky had called it.

You lowered your head and braced yourself as you felt him stand up. You didn’t want to see who he chose. You listened, on alert, to the sound of his shoes as he went toward the bedroom door. He stopped, presumably to make his choice.

“Get that ass in here, y/n.”

You gasped and looked behind you to see that Bucky was grinning at you. Everyone started laughing when you got up and skipped toward him.

Bucky pulled you through the bedroom to the bathroom, making sure to close both doors for extra privacy. He chuckled at you.

“How could you even think I’d choose someone else, Doll. You know you’re my one and only.”

You nodded and allowed him to pull you into his arms.

“I know. You know how I get when I drink. I get loose. Create scenarios.”

You shrugged as you smiled up at Bucky, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“You’ve had three beers, Doll. I was counting.”

“You were watching me?”

You angled your neck back as Bucky started licking your pulse point. It was a done deal that you were gonna let him fuck you in your en suite with your friends in the other room.

The question was how.

“Like a hawk, Doll. Was gonna suggest you stop after three. Need you to be sober enough to let me in. You’re a tight fit.”

Bucky’s hand was palming your cunt over your jeans and you ground yourself into the warm metal.

“It’s because you’re so big, James.”

You smirked at him.

“But how much tighter is my ass tho?”

Bucky stopped, pulled back and looked at you, eyes blazing and jaw clenching.

“Fuck. Doll. You want me to fuck ypu like that? Right now?”

Bucky licked his lips, exactly like you imagined the big bad wolf would before he tore you apart.

You whined in anticipation, your core flooding with slick. You whispered your reply to him.

“Yes, Bucky. Please. I- I’ve been thinking about the last time since the last time and I- I need it.”

You reached for him and started unbuckling his belt, a fiend.

Bucky closed his eyes as you went inside his pants and started to stroke him. He was thinking about how you wanted him to fuck you and the way it had you stuttering.

“Please, James. Pretty please?”

When he opened his eyes again, you licked your lips and pouted. How could you be begging for something so filthy yet be so adorable?

His dream girl.

Bucky panted while you handled him, your hand barely closing around his stiff, aching cock.

“Doll…I…”

You watched Bucky’s eyes dilate as he opened his mouth to breathe and you continued to stroke him. The way that you were licking your lips and looking him in the eye made Bucky realize that he was the one that taught you to be bold.

“I’m such a fucking slut for this cock. Want it in my ass, Daddy.”

“Jesus.”

You had Bucky shook. And he admired the monster he’d made.

“Yes, James. Make me your fuck doll. You know what you’ve done to me.”

And it was true.

Bucky Barnes had ruined you.

Turned you out.

Reduced you to a dripping, quivering, distracted mess whenever you thought about it.

You wanted him to do that sweet, dark, feral thing all the time.

All the time.

Something about being impaled on his pretty, hard, huge cock, stretched to your limits, feeling pleasure that was just on the razor's edge of pain and pleasure that had you hooked.

Oh, and when Bucky led you over that edge into that intense pleasure …

God.. you were addicted to it.

That first time, he was gentle, oh so gentle. And, as he promised, he’d made it feel oh so good.

Bucky teased you, pleased you, coaxed you, ate you, stretched you, lubed you, then eased into you so slowly and sweetly that you were on cloud nine the entire time.

And you’d cum harder than you ever had before.

Then Bucky took care of you with a hot bath, food, water, and rest.

The more you did the deed, the more wanton you were for it. You moved, arched, grabbed, and begged for it.

Tonight, the added bonus of people a few feet away had you heated, glowing hot.

And Bucky was like a moth to a flame.

He took you by the waist and brought his mouth to yours, making you open for him in this way first, wanting the tenderness on your lips at the moment. He backed you up to the sink, and left you breathless as he drew away, opening the medicine cabinet.

You were looking down at Bucky’s cock playing peekaboo in your hand as he searched behind you. You looked up when he suddenly exclaimed.

“Ah HA!”

Bucky brought a brand new bottle of lube around in front of you and your heart started beating double time.

Setting the lube down on the counter, Bucky reached for the button on your jeans, sliding your zipper down. His thick, metal index finger traced the slit in your panties, divining your wetness.

“How long were you thinking about this today? Hmmmmm?”

Bucky looked down on you possessively, demanding an account of your intimate thoughts. He took in the lust on your face and reveled in the fact that you really wanted this. His mouth descended toward yours before you had a chance to answer.

Bucky loved making love to you, fucking you, taking you apart and putting you back together. But this kind of connection was the most intimate to him.

It was not just because it felt amazing being inside your delicate, snug walls, but because this uncharted territory yielded just for him. Bucky was not into virginity as a concept, but damn, knowing that he’d made you into this brazen, begging goddess, that you’d let him into a place so sacred to you rendered him a slave to your pleasure, which he could tell was intense.

Bucky turned you around so that you faced the mirror and he pulled up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the bright bathroom light.

“You wore this with no bra on purpose, didn’t you?”

Bucky just stared at your chest instead of touching like you wanted him to, expecting an answer as he pressed his black-jeaned bulge against your ass.

“Yes, James.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he lowered his lips to your neck while his hands came up and played with your nipples, slowly and tenderly circling your areolas. You arched into his hands; you wanted it rough.

The sound you made when he started pulling was everything.

“Eyes open. Watch what I do to you.”

You watched Bucky watch your face and your open mouthed breathing.

When your eyes connected he said, “Good girl.”

You turned your head and kissed him before he grabbed your open jeans and pulled them down your body, kneeling behind you as he took them off.

Bucky sat back on his haunches and looked at you, running his hands up and down your thighs, grabbing your ass and admiring your anatomy.

“So gotdamn beautiful, Doll.”

You shivered as he started kissing your legs, and soon, but not soon enough, licking into your heat.

Bucky’s moans as he participated in his fine dining was enough to make you cum, or maybe it was the anticipation.

It didn’t matter, because by the time he stood up and told you to, “Bend over, Doll,” your knees were already weak.

You watched Bucky tear the plastic off the bottle of lube with his teeth, plucking your own nipples now.

“You ready?”

It was a purely rhetorical question as you moaned in response.

Bucky watched in awe as the cool lube dripped onto your ass and you arched to meet it. A thick metal middle finger quickly warmed both the liquid and you. You let him fuck you there digitally until you begged for him.

“Need you James…please!”

Bucky grunted, reaching around for your clit again.

“Give me one more, Doll.”

His human hand was magic as he worked you from both front and back. Once he had what he wanted, he pulled back to take off his pants and looked down at his prize.

“Shirt too, please.”

He couldn’t deny your look in the mirror; Bucky loved how you loved his body completely.

Finally, he was teasing your tight hole with his cock, sparking electricity and rivulets of slick in your core. You could tell he was holding back because his jaw was clenched and his movements were tentative.

When you bent down and pushed back onto him was when his eyes rolled and you saw his head hang back on his shoulders.

“Holy mother of…. Damn, Doll.”

Soon his eyes were back on yours in the mirror as you fucked yourself back on him.

“Remember when I had to beg you to fuck this sweet ass, Doll?”

Bucky looked down at his thick cock breaching your tight hole. Then he pulled you upright and flush against him for control, one hand around your neck and the other in your cunt as he pounded inside your tightness.

Bucky searched your glazed expression in the mirror, your head lolled back against his flesh shoulder as you rode his cock and his metal hand. Three of his warm, vibrating metal fingers were deep inside your cunt as he slowly fucked your puckered hole.

“Now you beg me.”

“Hmmm. Ummm hmmmm.”

You nodded, mouth open for air as you let the pleasure take over you.

“You really are all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yesss Jamesssss…Ohhhhh yesss.”

The third orgasm while he was buried in you made Bucky wild, and he started pumping in earnest, keenly tuned into your sounds for any sign of discomfort. All you felt was his thick dick pulling and dragging inside the most sensitive parts of you.

And pure rapture.

“I can take it. Give it please!”

At that point Bucky had to stop, and pulled your head up as he whispered in your ear. You could feel his huge cock pumping in time with his heartbeat inside you.

“My beautiful complete cock slut. Such a good fucking girl for me.”

They way he bared his teeth as he snarled it in your ear caused you to spasm again as he fully wrecked you now, pumping voluminous amounts of cum inside you.

“Holy fuck!”

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as you laughed, still impaled on his softening cock. You curled your legs up as he carried you over to the shower and turned it on, him finally releasing you to kiss you thoroughly against the shower wall.

“We’re being rude to our guests, Bucky.”

“Wanna invite them to join us?”

You smirked as you turned around and Bucky started washing your back.

“I draw the line at those party games.”

“Me too,” Bucky smirked, “you’re all mine, Doll.”

“Now let me clean you up…”

And Bucky’s hand was between your legs…

As always: If you liked it, please reblog.

[aibigbois]

Well babe, we finally did it. Our pecs now touch when we sit across from each other

[withoutthegoodtitle]

[thesecretw0rld-blog]

Christmas Countdown 🦌

[immapsychoclown]

Male Y/N.. And TK... I beg for the delectable and hearty meal🙏

bon appetit

[yeahimcal]

Jason Todd who is a big strong guy but absolutely melts when you press your lips against any part of his body.

A playful kiss to the back of his hand? He’s giving you the biggest heart eyes in the world. A gentle kiss to his forehead when you’re snuggled up in his bed to hide from the Gotham winter? He’s making a noise that might actually be a purr and he’s pulling you as close as possible. His cheek? He’s melting into you and nuzzling against your cheek.

If you kiss his scars be prepared for him to be the most pliant hunk of man in the world. He’s just staring at you with so much genuine adoration and love in his eyes that he’s choking on his words and he can’t stop smiling. He’s returning the favor as soon as possible, of course, kissing you silly before worshiping all your insecurities and telling you how much he loves you…

[pokemon-npcs]

Spreading some happiness because I'm having a bad day

[qourmet]

me, actually putting pen to paper to design nie mingjue's mother? it's about as likely as you think

[rickybaby]

Daniel at the UFC302 event in Newark, New Jersey (01.06.2024)

[aikaterini-drag]

Wrapped in Affection

Summary: Imagine snuggling in bed with Sergeant Barnes, being all cute and soft with each other.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, intimacy, kisses.

Amidst the bustling heart of New York City, the radiant glow of the city lights filtered through the curtains, casting warmth in the cozy living room. James reclined lazily on the plush couch with you enfolded in his arms and under the soft glow of the television. You shared a quiet intimacy, snuggled incredibly close, with your fingers tracing abstract patterns on his metal hand.

He marveled at you in silence, his heart swelling with gratitude for the blessing of your presence in his life. He watched you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the love that surged within him. He still couldn’t believe that he was free of Hydra and how much you loved him— enough to stand by his side and help him cope with the darkness in his heart. Your kind heart and gentle laughter lit up the darkest corners of his soul, your touch a tender reassurance that all was going to be well. You had brought light and happiness, casting away the darkness and mending his open wounds.

"You know," he whispered, his voice a warm caress, "I don't think I could ever love cuddles as much as I love cuddling with you."

You chuckled, eyes twinkling with affection. "What's not to love about cuddles? They're like little pockets of heaven."

He pretended to ponder this, his brows furrowing in mock seriousness. "True, true. But regular cuddles don't come with the bonus of you."

“Am I that special?”

“You are the most important person in my life— and you already know that.”

You smiled and kissed him softly. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He brushed his fingers over you face. “My precious angel. My happy ever after. My one and only.”

“Sergeant Barnes!” You playfully swatted his arm. "Flattery will get you everywhere!"

He grinned and leaned closer, his lips tracing a gentle path along your cheek. "Good thing I have the best girl to teach me everything."

Your laughter filled the room and he followed, a symphony of happiness. Nestling deeper into the embrace of the couch, you found solace in each other's arms, wrapped in the warmth of your love and the promise of countless cuddles to come.

Your fingers danced in a gentle ballet, trailing slow patterns on each other's skin. Each touch was a declaration of affection, a language known only to you. Your hands soon meandered, fingers tangling in hair, exploring the contours of cheeks, and gently caressing the curves of shoulders and arms.

Between hazy glances at each other, your lips met in soft wet kisses. Lips brushed, breaths mingled. He coaxed your mouth open and your tongues met ardently, dancing together. Each touch held the promise of more, a sweet temptation both of you couldn't resist. He pulled you closer, with you eagerly straddling him, the warmth of your body melding into him.

The kisses turned deep and passionate, like a wild rain, each one falling fast and leaving behind a sweet aftertaste, like the memory of a melody. They broke their kisses only to exchange heated glances, their eyes reflecting the depth of their longing.

In their precious cocoon of love, they were the stars in their own universe. The world outside might have been a whirlwind, but here, in the embrace of their love, time slowed, and they cherished each stolen moment.