#and weighted pull-ups as a girl 💅

[johnlockdynamic]

the way I bruised my collarbone and pelvic bone from hang cleans in Olympic lifting today ✌️ but coach Todd’s approval was worth it 😭

[the-winter-spider]

Say Don't Go | Part 3

Bucky x Reader 🏒

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut?? Fluff

A/N: IM SORRY here is the RIGHT part 3, sorry i didnt come on here sooner to see it lol 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

In my defence and my own dumbass mistake i had both part 3 & 4 labeled as part 3 in my google docs 🤪💅

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Taking a shaky breath, you edge toward the kitchen, clutching Bucky’s jacket closer to your body as if it might anchor you. The hum of the party buzzes in your ears, a disorienting mix of music, laughter, and voices blending into an overwhelming blur. You tell yourself it’s in your head, that nobody’s actually looking at you—but you can’t shake the weight pressing against your chest. Every glance feels like a judgment, every laugh an accusation.

Once you made it to the kitchen, you spot a happy couple leaning against the counter, throwing back shots and laughing. They look carefree, like they belong here in a way you don’t. Still, they smile at you warmly, and before you know it, you’re lifting a shot glass with them. The sharp burn of alcohol hits your throat, the warmth spreading quickly through your body, loosening the tight grip of nerves in your chest.

“Here’s to good nights and no regrets!” the guy says, clinking his glass against yours. You laugh faintly, echoing his enthusiasm even as the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle. Setting the empty glass down, you make yourself a strong mixed drink, hoping the buzz will make the stares and whispers—real or imagined—fade into the background.

As you finish the drink, your phone buzzes in the oversized pocket of Bucky’s jacket. You consider fishing it out, but the thought of fumbling through the thick fabric feels too daunting. Besides, it’s probably just Steve checking in again, and you’re not ready to be reminded of how much you rely on him. Instead, you pour another drink for courage and step outside, hoping the cool air will clear your head.

The jacket slips off one shoulder as you move, revealing the strap of your little black dress. You barely notice, too focused on scanning the yard for Bucky’s familiar figure. The pulsing music inside fades to a low thrum as the night air prickles your skin. You sip your drink, letting the warmth settle as you wander further into the crowd.

Then, you hear it—sharp laughter, cutting through the noise. Your unsteady steps bring you toward the doorway where a group of people stands clustered. You don’t realize you’re about to bump into them until it’s too late, your drink sloshing slightly as you stumble forward.

“Hey, watch it,” one of the girls snaps, pulling back like you’ve spilled acid on her. Her eyes land on you, narrowing as they linger on Bucky’s jacket hanging loosely around your frame. “Oh, look who it is.”

You blink, trying to steady yourself. “Sorry,” you mumble, heat rising to your cheeks. But the girl’s sharp gaze doesn’t soften.

“Steve’s little friend, right?” she says, her tone dripping with mockery. “Always hanging around the rink like you’re part of the team.”

Another girl crosses her arms, smirking. “Must be nice, having Captain of the Hockey team babysit you.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat, tangled up in the buzz of alcohol and the sudden swell of insecurity. Before you can say anything, one of the guys grabs the collar of Bucky’s jacket, tugging it slightly and pulling you forward.

“Wait a second,” he says, his grin widening. “Isn’t this Barnes’ jacket? First Steve, now Bucky? Damn, you’re really making your way through the lineup.”

Laughter erupts around you, sharp and grating, drowning out the faint hum of music. Your stomach churns, and you feel your grip tighten around your drink as if it might somehow shield you from their words.

“Must be a new record,” another girl adds, her cold eyes scanning you like you’re a piece of gossip brought to life. “A little black dress and a hockey jacket? Nice combo if you’re trying to collect the whole team.”

“She couldn’t get half if she tried,” someone else scoffs, their voice laced with cruelty. “Look at her hair.”

You swallow hard, the sharp sting of their words cutting through the alcohol’s dulling haze.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” the first girl says with a smirk. “Bet she’s spreading her legs to keep their attention, since no one else will give her any."

The laughter that follows feels like a punch to the chest, the echo of it burrowing deep into your skin. You clutch the jacket tighter, the fabric warm against your trembling hands, but it doesn’t stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You lower your head, willing them not to fall, and push past the group without a word, your legs shaky beneath you.

The voices follow you, their laughter and whispers echoing in your mind as you stumble back inside. The warmth of the house is suffocating now, the press of bodies too close. You find a quieter corner near the staircase, leaning against the wall as you try to steady your breathing. Your hands tremble around the drink, your knuckles whitening with the effort to hold yourself together.

Pulling Bucky’s jacket closer, you close your eyes, the fabric brushing against your skin a reminder of him, of the warmth and safety you’d thought it represented. But now, even that feels tainted by their words. The ache in your chest deepens, spreading through you like a weight you can’t shake.

You tell yourself it’s just the alcohol, just the party, just the whispers. But deep down, you know the hurt has rooted itself somewhere deeper, somewhere harder to ignore.

When you finally spot Bucky in the backyard with Steve and Natasha, a wave of relief washes over you. Steve is looking around, scanning the crowd, just as he pulls out his phone and holds it to his ear. You laugh at the coincidence—until you realize he’s calling you.

Quickly, you weave through the crowd, catching Natasha’s eye first. She smirks, nudging Steve’s chest and pointing toward you. As both boys turn to see you, you lift a hand and wave, a bright smile on your face.

“Hi!” you beam, a little out of breath as you reach them. “I was looking for you,” you say, your gaze landing on Bucky with a small grin.

Bucky’s eyes light up with a smirk. “Yeah? Well, I was looking for you too, beautiful.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Steve asks, brow furrowed, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the music.

You shrug, letting out a little laugh. “Couple shots in the kitchen, and a couple of drinks. It’s a party, Stevie. Relax.”

Natasha sees the way you and Bucky are looking at each other, the chemistry electric between you, and she pulls Steve’s arm. “Steve, I want another drink,” she says, an amused smile on her face.

Steve gives you one last cautious look. “You two, especially you" His finger points at you "Stay put, alright? We’ll be right back.”

Neither of you acknowledges them leaving, your attention fully locked on Bucky now. He steps closer, his gaze roaming over your figure, taking in the way his jacket slips down your arm.

As Natasha and Steve disappear into the crowd, the world feels like it shrinks to just you and Bucky. He’s looking at you with that familiar smirk, one eyebrow raised, his eyes glinting with amusement as he takes in your slightly tipsy grin and the way his jacket keeps slipping down your shoulder.

“You make it a habit of getting lost at parties?” he teases, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Well, maybe I just like the thrill of being found,” you shoot back, trying to sound casual but feeling your cheeks warm as his smirk grows.

He steps a little closer, his hand still on your shoulder, fingers brushing against your bare skin as he adjusts the jacket so it sits more securely. “Could’ve told me you were coming out looking like this. I might’ve shown up earlier.”

You laugh, shrugging playfully, and roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You probably say that to every girl wearing your jacket.”

“Funny thing about that,” he murmurs, his gaze softening as it holds yours. “No one’s worn it but you. Didn’t think anyone else could pull it off.”

You look down, trying to hide the smile that spreads across your face, but he gently nudges your chin back up with his thumb, his touch sending sparks through you. He’s close now, the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body making your head spin in a way the alcohol couldn’t.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a whisper against your ear. “You look amazing.”

The compliment leaves you breathless, and before you can stop yourself, you reach up to adjust the collar of his jacket on your shoulder, your fingers lingering against the fabric. “Guess I’m a little worried I’ll end up spilling something on it,” you admit, laughing softly.

“Guess that means I’ll just have to keep an eye on you, huh?” he replies, his fingers trailing down from your shoulder, brushing against your arm. His hand finds your waist, resting there in a way that feels so natural, as if it’s always belonged there.

Your eyes drift to his mouth, and you realize how close the two of you are standing. Every word he says seems to pull you in closer, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek as he leans down just slightly. Your heart races as your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket, holding on as if to steady yourself.

“Bucky…” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to your lips. He inches closer, his hand tightening just a little at your waist, drawing you in until it feels like the entire party has faded away.

But just as he leans in, a shrill voice cuts through the moment, breaking the spell.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.” You both turn, startled, to see Tiffany standing there, her arms crossed and a smug look on her face. You turn to see Tiffany, her arms crossed and a fake smile plastered on her face. Her eyes narrow, glancing between you and Bucky with thinly veiled contempt. “Didn’t think I’d see you here. Guess you’re trying a little too hard.”

The remark stings, but before you can react, Bucky shifts, standing a little closer to you. “What’s your problem, Tiffany?” he says, his tone firm and uninterested.

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms and tossing her hair back as she turns her attention to Bucky, attempting a flirty smile. “I just thought you had standards, Buck. But I guess I was wrong.”

Bucky’s jaw tightens, and he slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I do have standards its why nothing ever happened between us,” he replies curtly. “C’mon, doll, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

Leaving Tiffany standing there, embarrassed and fuming, he guides you away, his arm warm and secure around your waist, making you feel protected and confident as he leads you through the crowd.

The moment Bucky's hand closes around yours, you feel a spark—a warmth that spreads up your arm and settles in your chest. He leads you through the crowded house, his grip on your hand firm yet reassuring, like he's guiding you through the maze of people and noise. The murmurs and whispers of girls around you don't go unnoticed, but somehow they don't bother you. In fact, there's a warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach, your head, and even your chest. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just Bucky. Either way, it doesn't matter. You're with him, and that's all you care about. Your mind quickly jolts to Steve, what would he say? Would he be disappointed in you? Would he say he told you so if Bucky hurts you? Bucky wouldn't hurt you...right? The alcohol buzzing through your system shoves any and all common sense away.

You pass by the groups of people laughing, talking, and occasionally shooting you curious glances. But all you can focus on is Bucky-his broad back, the way his hand holds yours so easily, and the way he looks at you with that small smile playing at the corners of his lips, as though he's leading you to something important.

When you finally reach his room, he pushes the door open and lets you step in first. The room is quiet, private, a stark contrast to the noise of the party downstairs.

You glance around, taking in the space-there's nothing chaotic about it. It's neat, clean, and well put together. The bed is made, the floor spotless, and everything in its place, "It's not what I was expecting," you admit, turning to face him, feeling a little surprised.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What were you expecting?"

You hesitate for a moment before answering, a teasing glint in your eyes. "A mess. You know, like clothes everywhere, maybe a pile of old pizza boxes."

Bucky laughs softly, his gaze softening as he steps closer, his voice lowering. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a slob."

"Clearly," you reply, smiling, your heart racing at the closeness between you two "I did expect that though" You nudge your head in the direction of the Hockey poster.

He follows your gaze and he laughs, its such a beautiful sound, a sound you wouldn't mind hearing for the rest of your life. There's a chemistry here, something undeniable, and it makes your pulse quicken.

He takes another step forward, his eyes scanning your face. "So, you like it?" he asks, his tone playful but also sincere.

"I like it," you answer, voice softer now. "I like this. Being here with you."

A moment of silence stretches between you, charged with an electricity that only seems to intensify. You both stand there, neither of you willing to break the tension first "I like it to..." His voice is low, hoarse almost hes afraid of his own words "I like it more than you know sweetheart"

Bucky steps closer until there's barely any space between you, his breath warm against your face. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your body reacting to his presence. His hand lifts, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and the way he looks at you sends a wave of heat through your body.

You instinctively lick your lips, and the sound of his sharp intake of breath is enough to make your heart skip a beat. "Can I kiss you?" His voice is low, a hint of desperation there that makes your chest tighten.

You nod, a soft, "Yes," slipping from your lips before you can stop it. The moment the words leave your mouth, Bucky closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that is both gentle and desperate. His hands come up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his tongue lightly grazes your lips, asking for permission. You part your lips, and he deepens the kiss, the heat between you building with every passing second. Your hands find their way to his chest, pushing him back slightly as your bodies press closer together. Bucky groans softly at the contact, and before you know it, you're backing up toward the bed, the kiss not slowing for even a second.

When your legs hit the edge of the mattress, you stop, breathless, staring up at him as he hovers above you, his eyes lock with yours, searching, asking, waiting for your consent. There's a moment of stillness before he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there, a soft touch that feels like a promise. "Are you sure?" His voice is a whisper, thick with desire, but laced with the care he's always shown you. The way he says it makes your heart skip—he's not pushing, not rushing. He's waiting for you to take the lead.

You nod, sliding his varsity coat off your shoulders, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "I'm sure," you whisper back, your voice barely audible, but filled with the certainty you've been hiding deep down. His eyes soften, a mixture of relief and something deeper-something raw.

Before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours, slow and soft at first, as if testing the waters, giving you a chance to pull back. But you don't. You melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him is intoxicating, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matches your own.

His hands slide down your back, firm but gentle, as though he's memorizing every inch of you. He pauses for just a moment, looking at you with a hunger that makes your pulse race. There's a slight hesitation in his eyes, as if he's waiting for a sign-an invitation to take things further. Your fingers tremble as they move to the hem of his shirt, and when he doesn't pull away, you tug it over his head, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. The sight of him takes your breath away, and your heart beats faster.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky, as he takes in your figure, his eyes filled with admiration and a quiet reverence. The words sink deep into you, igniting a fire that you hadn't known was there. His hands are back on you, skimming down your sides as he pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. Your breath hitches as his lips trail down your neck, sending waves of heat to places you hadn't known were sensitive. You close your eyes, unable to stop the quiet gasp that escapes your lips as his mouth explores, leaving soft, lingering kisses along your skin.

Your heart is racing, your body on fire, and when he lifts his head, his eyes are dark, filled with something you can't quite name. But you don't need to. All you know is the overwhelming desire to be closer, to feel more of him. "Bucky," you breathe, your hands tugging at his belt, desperate to feel him even closer.

He freezes for just a second, his brow furrowing in concern. "Are you sure?" he asks again, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, your hands on his chest, pulling him back into a kiss that's deep and urgent, a quiet plea for him to understand. "Please," you whisper against his lips.

The tension snaps, and in a flurry of motion, he pulls you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

He pulls away just long enough to speak, his voice hoarse “You’re the most beautiful girl ive ever seen”

You meet his gaze, your voice steady, filled with doubt from earlier “You don’t mean that…”

He brushes hair behind your ear cupping your cheek “I mean every word i say to you” And then, with a tenderness that takes you by surprise, he leans down to kiss you again, and the rest of the world disappears.

Bucky’s hands roam your body with a reverence that steals your breath. His touch is both gentle and deliberate, as though he’s memorizing every curve, every hollow, every mark that makes you you. His fingers linger, tracing the swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the soft flare of your hips like an artist studying his masterpiece.

Your skin responds instinctively, goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips as your body arches toward him. Heat pools low in your belly, an ache that deepens with each passing moment, with every lingering caress.

He leans in close, his breath warm against your neck before his lips brush against the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. His kisses are slow and exploratory, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. A shiver ripples down your spine, and you tilt your head back, inviting him to continue. A soft sound escapes your lips, half-sigh, half-moan, unbidden but utterly sincere.

His hands venture lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, his knuckles brushing against the heat of your skin. The first delicate touch against your most sensitive spot pulls a gasp from you, your hips lifting instinctively to meet him.

“Bucky,” you whisper, his name a plea caught somewhere between desire and surrender. You can feel him pressed against your thigh, the hard evidence of his own need. Knowing he wants you as desperately as you want him sends your pulse racing.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His blue eyes are darkened, heavy with longing. “Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear it.”

You hesitate, the words caught in the knot of heat and nerves tightening in your chest. But the way he looks at you—like you’re the only thing in the world—gives you courage.

“I want you,” you admit, the confession trembling on your lips. “All of you. I need you, Bucky.”

The hunger in his eyes sharpens, and in an instant, his mouth is on yours again, claiming you with a kiss that leaves no room for uncertainty. His hands are deft and sure as he tugs at your dress, sliding it down your legs before casting it aside. He makes quick work of his remaining clothes, his movements deliberate, unhurried, until there’s nothing between you but the heat of bare skin and the weight of anticipation.

For a moment, he stills, his gaze sweeping over you with something like wonder. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice a mix of awe and sincerity. “Absolutely perfect.”

You reach for him, pulling him closer, needing the press of his body against yours. He obliges, settling between your thighs, the warmth of him grounding and electrifying all at once. The anticipation tightens further, coiling like a spring as he trails his fingers down your body, finding the slick heat waiting for him. He teases, drawing out soft gasps and murmured pleas until you’re trembling beneath him.

When he finally slides inside, the world seems to still, the sensation washing over you in waves as you both exhale a shaky groan. His movements are slow at first, measured, as if savoring every moment. The rhythm builds naturally, every thrust pushing you closer, deeper, drawing soft moans from your lips and muffled groans from his throat.

The room fills with the sounds of your bodies moving together. His lips find yours again, his kiss deep and consuming, swallowing your quiet cries of pleasure as the tension between you mounts. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as the pressure builds to an unbearable peak.

When the release comes, it’s overwhelming, an avalanche of sensation that leaves you both trembling. Your cry of ecstasy mingles with his, your bodies shaking in unison as you shatter together, caught in the same tide of bliss.

In the quiet aftermath, Bucky collapses against you, his breath warm and uneven against your neck. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest as you both come down from the high.

Neither of you speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken emotion, but his hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours. It’s a simple gesture, but it says everything. Suddenly time stops.

[b0ng05]

Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader:

Injured

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Word Count: 1937

Summary: Sam broke her foot at the gym, and her loving girlfriend is there to dote on her

!MDI 18+! SMUT

Also, Not Proofread💅

Master list/ Request list

I hold in a laugh as I walk into Sam and I’s apartment, on the couch sat Sam with her casted foot propped up on a pillow on the coffee table. She wore an annoyed yet pouting look, her bottom lip jutted out a bit and her brows furrowed in frustration of her situation. Her arms crossed, making her muscles bulk out a bit more.

“Hey honey, how are you?” I ask, trying to stifle a small giggle at her expression.

I make my way over to the couch to sit next to her, kissing her cheek softly.

“About as good as I can be after dropping a weight on my foot.” Sam grumbles as she stares at the tv, which was playing an episode of Survivor.

“You should’ve been more careful,” I say, cringing after I see the glare she gave me.

“I am careful…” Sam mumbles, wrapping her arm around my shoulder before slyly flicking my arm with the same hand.

“How bad did you break your foot?” I ask, curling up to her side.

“An acute metatarsal fracture. Doctor said it might take weeks or months to heal, all I know is I want this damn cast off.” Sam remarked, her hand softly rubbing over the spot she flicked.

“How did you even drop a weight on your foot?” I ask, stroking her hair back out of her face.

“I was trying to swap weights on the benchpress, it just slipped out of my hands I guess,” She mumbles, a bit embarrassed.

“It’s alright, just means I get more attention cause you can barely workout now,” I tease with a playful smile as I lean up to kiss her jaw.

“I see how it is, you enjoy my pain, huh?” Sam jokes with a squinting stare.

“Kiss me and find out?” I joke with a teasing smirk.

“And how exactly would that help me-” Before Sam can finish her sentence, I steal a small kiss, teasingly biting her lip as I pull away before looking at her with a mischievous grin.

“That did actually help, maybe a few more,” Sam teases with a playful smirk, tapping her lips with her pointer finger.

I giggle and lean up again, our lips locking in a soft, slow, sweet, and loving kiss. My hand moves to run through her long dark hair gently as hers move to softly rub my waist with her thumbs.

“So how exactly did you get to the hospital, and then back home…?” I inquire after our lips part.

“... I had to call Tara. It was a harrowing process.” Sam states, slightly cringing at the memory of her with her arm wrapped around Tara’s shoulder as Tara tried to help her walk in and out of the buildings. The total process took them hours due to Tara being significantly shorter than Sam.

“Could’ve been worse,” I try to reassure with an amused smile.

“How? Tara almost fell over trying to help me, 4 times,” Sam scoffs trying to stifle a laugh at her own comment.

“She did her best.” I say trying to hold a straight face as a grin itches the corner of my lips.

“That she did.” Sam grins with a chuckle as she leans over to kiss my cheek.

“I love you.” I say, with a smile as I kiss her cheek in return.

“I love you too. Now, since I’m kind of working with one foot, can you get me water?” Sam asks with a cheesy but charming grin.

“You’re lucky you have a cute face.” I tease as I stand up to grab her water, only for her to lightly slap my butt once I’m up.

“And you have a cute butt,” Sam teases back with a mischievous grin.

“Oh hush,” I laugh as I walk to the kitchen to go fill up a water bottle for Sam.

Once I come back and hand her the water bottle, she takes a sip and puts it on the end table next to her before pulling me back into her arms.

"So how was Tara?” I ask with a smile as I snuggle up to her.

“She was kinda busy cracking jokes about me breaking my foot, for me to have asked her,” Sam grins at the thought of her sister, despite the fact the girl started playing Big Foot by Nicki Minaj when Sam got in her car to go to the hospital, and the fact that Tara played it just to mischievously look at Sam and sing, “The bitch fell off, I said “Get up on your good foot!”

“Sounds about right,” I let out a small giggle as I poke the tip of her nose.

“Y’know usually people dote on the injured, but you and Tara are relentless, I bet you guys would hit someone with glasses on.” Sam playfully glares at me, before poking my nose back.

“Maybe I would, my hands are rated E for everyone,” I joke.

“Knew it,” Sam laughs before leaning down to kiss me.

I kiss back, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss. I could feel my heart swell and butterflies fluttering my stomach. Her soft lips parting as her tongue grazes my lip, I give her access. Our tongues meet in passionate dance. Sam’s hands move to my waist as mine move around the back of her neck, my nails delicately trailing up and down the back of her neck, causing a small but noticeable shiver to run up Sam’s spine. She leans in more, pulling me closer as we kiss.

As we make out, Sam moves her feet off of the coffee table, gently trying to lay me back on the couch, but as she goes to crawl on top of me I hear a small thump, she pulls back out of the kiss quickly. She bites down hard on her fist, stilling for a moment in pain.

“Sam? You okay, baby?” I ask worriedly as I caress her arm softly.

“I just smacked my foot so hard on the armrest.” Sam groans as she moves to cradle her casted foot, her face scrunched in pain and annoyance.

“Oh you poor baby,” I say trying to hold back a small giggle as I cradle her head against my chest and kiss her forehead.

“Don’t mock me in my time of need,” Sam jokes as she pokes my side making me giggle.

“Oh and what type of need is that?” I tease as I move to lift Sam’s legs onto the couch, making her look at me with a blush.

“Oh shut up,” Sam says with a blush.

I giggle and move to lay between Sam’s legs, being extra cautious of her casted foot. I caress her cheek before kissing her again, igniting our heated makeout session once more. I move to kiss down her jaw, down to her neck. I kiss her neck, my tongue softly running over her pulse point before sucking down on it, forming a dark hickey. Sam’s hands move, one threading through my hair bringing me closer, the other resting on my butt with a teasing grip.

I sit up, my hands grasping the hem of her shirt and gently tugging it off of her before leaning back down to start kissing along her collarbone, trailing my tongue along it delicately, causing Sam to let out a soft almost inaudible whimper. She holds me tighter as I kiss down to her chest, tugging her black sports bra over her head before I begin to give attention to her breasts. My hand teasing and rolling over the nub on one of her breasts, my mouth occupying the other, as Sam breathing begins to pick up. Her eyes fluttering shut as she relishes in the pleasure emitted from the action.

“Baby~” Sam moans softly, her hand resting in my hair.

I smirk as I begin to kiss down her stomach, my hand moving to softly rub her hip as I kiss just above her waistband of her sweatpants. My other hand moves to untie the strings of her pants before tugging the soft plush down her legs, being cautious of her injury. I smirk at the sight before me, her panties were slightly soaked with her wetness. I pull them off, not wasting any time. I lay back between her legs, pressing kisses to her inner thighs as I watch her grow more flustered, Sam was normally in control in our more intimate moments, so this made her feel extra vulnerable. I lift her legs over my shoulders gently before I lean in and lick up her wet slit slowly, watching her mouth open in pleasure as a shaky breath leaves her plump lips. I moan against her wet cunt, making her moan a bit louder, her hands tangling in my hair to pull me closer to where she needs me.

“Fuck, babe~” Sam whines as she bites her bottom lip.

I swirl my tongue around her clit, my eyes gazing up at her as I watch her face contort in pleasure. I thrust my tongue inside of her, my thumb moving to rub her clit to match the pace of my tongue which was teasing her with a slow pace.

“Faster~” Sam bites her lip as her head leans back onto the couch.

I add a bit of haste to my actions. My other hand moves to hold down her waist as her hips begin to buck and grind against my mouth. Her moans echo out as I continue to eat her out. I move back to suck her clit as my finger moves to tease at her entrance, her wetness so prominent that it slipped in with ease.

“Please, I’m getting close,” Sam mumbles through strung out moans.

She moans louder, her chest heaving as her pleasure starts to build up. Her hand grips the edge of the couch, the other tugging my hair as she gets closer. I slip in another finger, going a bit faster as I feel her pulsing around my fingers. I let her grind her hips against my mouth as she chases her high. She cums around my fingers with a loud moan of my name. I let her ride out her high until her thighs twitch from sensitivity. I carefully take her legs off of my shoulders as I lick her juices off of my fingers. Sam stiffles a moan at the sight as she pulls me down for a kiss.

The kiss is soft and loving, her hands caressing my cheeks delicately. As we pull away, I lean my forehead against hers, closing my eyes.

“I love you, Sammy,” I whisper softly with a smile.

“I love you too,” She replies after she catches her breath, looking at me with utmost love.

I smile and peck her lips before getting up to go get a rag to clean her up and to go get her different panties, considering the soaked state of her ones on the floor. When I return, she’s attempting to hobble off of the couch to come find me, unsurprisingly without her crutches.

“Sam!” I scold as I rush over to help her sit back down.

“Am I not allowed to get up now?” Sam playfully sighs as she sits down, not resisting it.

“Not without your crutches,” I smile, kissing her cheek.

I clean her up with the rag, and then help her back into her panties and sweatpants.

“Now this is what I call properly doting on the injured,” Sam teases, with a cheeky smirk before pulling me back into her arms as I giggle.

[minispidey]

Hey its ya girl, ominoose here, aka your biggest fan. I would like to request some hcs for my fave men Steven Grant and Blue Jones would be like with a s/o thats shorter than them please and ty xoxo

BLUE JONES AND STEVEN GRANT with short s/o.

Warnings: smut 💅, language, uses female body descriptions, degradation, objectification (for blue smh), worship.

Requested by bestie @ominoose

(Author's Note: Requests for Oscar Isaac characters are still open! Don't be shy, keep them coming! Repeaters are welcome. Reblogs and comments are appreciated 💅)

MINORS DNI

Blue blue my love. Teases a lot to be honest. Hated it when you wore heels or shoes that elevate your height a bit. Would be mean and trip you down if you did.

"No more shoes like that, honey."

It wasn't a question. It was a demand. He would push you around until you take off your heels. Only he gets to tell you if you could wear them.

He actually loves crouching down to your level, talking down to you like a child.

"Aww, is my favorite girl mad? Take them off and throw them away."

Blue likes picking you up like a cat and placing you down. Be it a table, one of those tall bar seats or his lap.

You could be walking all pretty and he'll pick you up like you weighted nothing. Even for my plus sized girlies out there, he'd still pick you up.

He could pick you up and fuck you anywhere. Ramming into you mercilessly.

He finds you adorable when you try to stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. Blue always ends up standing taller to tease you.

"Gimme a kiss, sweetie. You're almost there."

He's mean.

Steven the baby. Or like, you're his baby.

He absolutely adores you. Wanna grab something from the shelves? No need for a chair. Steven's got you.

If you wanna wear a pair of heels, (unlike Blue) he'd let you. He thinks that you look like a model, strutting around with your heels.

He once wore a tie during a romantic date. You pulled on his tie so you could kiss him.

He developed a thing for it. You too.

(Bonus)

You let him wear his suit during sex, pulling on his tie like a leash.

"Fuck me harder, Stevie... please..."

"I-I'm trying, love. Just hold on for me. You're... You're just so pretty for me... pull it harder..."

[twinklelilstarkey]

Omg could you do one where he is all clingy and protective, like idk. I’m just a narcissist who craves love, attention and want too feel important 😔💅

A/N.: Girl- Same. I understand you so well. [I only made him clingy in this one because I struggle with ideas, but I hope you like it anyways.]

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

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Rafe has just come back from an away game. A total of 4 days away from you and the tall boy swears that he doesn't even feel like himself.

It was told to him and the whole rest of the team that the bus would get home pretty late due to traffic, so he didn't even bother to text or call you to get him since you were probably already asleep. And, right as promised, around 4am, Rafe was already getting in one of his friend's cars, which was left in the parking lot for this same amount of days, and getting back to the apartment.

He felt tired but not exactly tired enough to sleep because he slept the almost whole way home. So, he kept his eyes on the floor as he got out of the car, telling everyone a quick goodbye and making his way to the elevator.

Rafe truly expected to get home and see all the lights turned off and hear nothing but silence. Yet, that was not what he got. As soon as he opened the door, he noticed that the kitchen and living room's lights were on, but so was the TV.

He's quick to lock up the front door once more and almost run into the room. And he's, once more, surprised to not find you asleep but actually very much awake, watching your favorite show while snacking on whatever packet you have hidden under your blanket.

As soon as your eyes flick from the TV to him, you swear that your heart almost jumps out of your chest.

Your eyes meet nothing but a 6'2 man staring you down while not moving a muscle as you munch on your night snack... Yeah, not scary at all.

"Jesus Christ." You whisper, a bit out of breath with the unplanned scare Rafe just pulled on you.

As you try to recover (so you can finally go hug your boyfriend), Rafe doesn't give you much time to react. Right as he brings himself to take another step forward, he throws himself onto the couch right by, and also on top of, you.

You groan slightly at the sudden weight over your body and Rafe's quick to grab and wrap his arms around you tightly.

"I missed you so much." He whispers into the crook of your neck, already starting to pepper your skin with kisses.

"I missed you too." You whisper back, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

Rafe lays kisses all over the right side of your exposed neck, all while snuggling closer and closer and you can't help but let out a little giggle at the small tickle he gives you.

Your fingers find their way to his soft hair and Rafe closes his eyes tightly, almost as if forcing himself to enjoy the touch he so missed right as it begins.

You hold each other for a bit. Half of Rafe's body is indeed on top of you while the rest is resting on the couch, but it takes him a bit to recognize that.

"Am I crushing you?" He whispers softly, making you grin.

You don't answer right away, since you don't really want him to move away yet, but you can't leave him hanging without an answer for too long.

"Not really." You whisper back. "But you're definitely crushing my chips."

Rafe doesn't move much. He chuckles first and then leans his weight to the side, just enough to pull the bag away from between the two of you and throw it to the coffee table. And, right after that, he leans in close again, just so he can finally rest his head over the smooth fabric of your hoodie.

He still doesn't feel tired, no matter how comfortable he is, and you can easily tell that this is going to be a long night - in the best way possible.

"How was it?" You ask, trying to start some sort of communication between the two of you.

He sighs.

"Awful."

You frown a bit and stop your hand in his hair.

"Didn't you guys win eve-"

"Still hated it." He whispers sincerely.

"Why?" You ask him, feeling a little concerned.

He shrugs first, holding his shoulders high for a few seconds almost as if he's thinking about his answer as he does it.

"I think I'm just not used to not seeing you after the games." He admits, no longer in a whisper but more in a mumble. All just to make sure you hear him right.

Your heart squeezes at his words and, with the arm you have rested over his shoulders, you tighten your hold on him.

"Rafe Cameron..." You start, "Have you become this dependant of my affection?" You ask playfully.

Rafe bites his smile in at your question, but instead of answering right away, he hides his face onto the crook of your neck.

"Just don't tell the guys." He finally says, against your skin.

You laugh a bit at his added plead and you feel him smile almost right away, hugging you impossibly closer to him.

"Your secret's safe with me." You admit.

I'm a little rusty, you guys, I'm so sorry if this sucks. I tried my best since this is already an old request, but... yeah, hope you guys liked it.

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Tags: @casually-kook @sunnymaybank @estrellarimar @depressinq @starkeythinker @drewstarkeysbitchh @vintageobx @fuckwby

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[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Alright bestie miss Y/N here to tell another story 💅

So I work at Waffle House for the moment and today I was working with my mom and a new girl, we were kinda slow which I was happy for. Next thing you know I see lile 5-6 cars pull in and go in the back to contemplate ending myself beCAuse why??? Like 5 minutes later my mom comes in the back and is like "These guys are asking for you." And im like??? Okay?? So I leave the back and SEE THE SCARIEST MEN I HAVE EVER SEEN ON MY LIFE LIKE HELLO?? HOW ARE YOU THAT BUFF AND TALL??? ARE YOU THE IRS BECAUSE I OWE YOU MONEY??? JDBFISIKSJSJS

So I walk up to them sweatin bullets and am like "Can I help ya?" And this dude who looks like Sakusa if born in America looks at me and is like "Your Foxy? My kids talk about you all the time!" Anr smiles at me and I kinda look confused like sir I work at waffle house lmao. But then all the other guys nod along and im just like ?? Am I secretly famous?? And this is how the conversation goes

🦊: Do ya mind me asking who yer kids are? Because I honestly have no idea who yall are.

🌲: *names off all there kids names* They said you were a huge mentor to them!

🦊: 👁️👄👁️(Freshmen from previous stories) They still talkin about me?? I mean im flattered but im not that good or cool of a person tbh.

🌲: We have seen some videos of you and we think your pretty cool! And thats coming from professionals! *all of laugh*

🦊: I mean thanks but- Wait...did you say professionals?? As in???

🌲: Volleyball Players! We love coming here to eat and our kids told us you would be working today and that you would like to meet us!

🦊: WTF DO YA MEAN PROFESSIONAL VB PLAYERS!?!?!?!?? YA CANT JUST HIT ME WITH THAT AND EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL???

And basically my mom watched from the sidelines as I interacted with people who could bench press 3x my weight and im big so she was hella confused lol it was very hard to explain it to her after they left too

🚪 🚶‍♀️

Literally just me leaving the chat rn because ARE YOU SERIOUS? How did you literally not faint because I definitely would have actually perished in a Waffle house, which ironically would not have been the most embarrassing thing I've ever done 🤚🏻 but nevertheless!

First off, how freaking cool is that! You are totally an icon and famous in your area! We love that 👏🏻

Second off, istg if my YN moment doesn't come soon I'm suing myself for false advertisement!