#he's like... extra fuzzy with a beard
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Another Kurt wip from the sketch dump bc I have been feeling sick and it's taking energy away from doing art, especially digitally. I'll get back to it eventually though!
#omensarttag#kurt wagner my beloved#kurt with a beard especially ehehe#he's like... extra fuzzy with a beard#digital art#x men#artists on tumblr#artwork#kurt wagner#nightcrawler#x men 97#fanart#xmen#x men comics#xmen fanart#marvel fanart#marvel#marvel xmen#kurt wagner fanart
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All About Fur!
Nightcrawler HCs
I have lots of thoughts about lots of things, and Nightcrawler’s fur is one of them! So I had to get a few things out of my brain 💙 Some x reader stuff in here too ;)
Warnings: a few sexual references | a few fluffy (no pun intended) references | no pronouns or specifications on reader obvi
⚜️Unfortunately, he doesn’t get any fluffier, much to your dismay 😔 a fluffy winter coat would have been cute, after all!
⚜️But even that short fur does get thicker and longer in certain places on the daily 😏 you may notice his jawline is a bit shaggy by the end of a lazy weekend 🤭 that there’s more fur on his chest when you run your fingers through it 🥺 his belly and a line above and below is belly button gets fluffy and curly if he lets it 🥺🥺
⚜️Even if you’ve typically preferred your past partners more… clean-shaven or well-trimmed down there, you surely can’t have any issues with his fluffier crotch and thighs 🥰 the saving grace here is that all of his fur is velvety soft 😌
⚜️Now, while it doesn’t grow any longer outside of those places, he is naturally shaggier in some other areas!
⚜️His forearms are a bit more furry than his upper arms
⚜️The backs of his thighs and his little booty have longer, curled fur 🥰🥰🥰
⚜️Rub a balloon on him and watch it stick :)
⚜️Bathing with him is fun because you get to play with his fur! Run your fingers through it! This is a feature, not a bug!!
⚜️Except now he’s more like a soggy kitten 🥺 a happy one at least!
⚜️The tail is surprisingly not just, like, skin! It is fuzzy! The fur there is very very short and fine, but still soft and fuzzy! It kinda feels like one of those lamb’s ear plants! Or peach fuzz!!
⚜️But the tip isn’t covered in fur 😔 just like the bottoms of his hands and feet!
⚜️He says belly rubs are degrading, but he likes them 😘 especially when that fur on his chest and belly hasn’t been trimmed in a while, he’ll absolutely stretch out and let you run your fingers through it during late morning cuddles 🥰
⚜️Don’t be afraid to pay extra attention to his quasi-beard, too 😉 it’s not the same as pubic hair on a human! It’s just as soft as the rest of him!
⚜️And for better or for worse, you won’t have to worry very much about beard burn, at least!
⚜️He really doesn’t mind being petted anywhere and everywhere— so long as you do, in fact, have a close and/or (preferably) more intimate relationship!
⚜️Though, if all your past partners have been more on the human-presenting side, you’ll have to get used to always getting a mouthful of fur whenever you want to kiss his cheek or affectionately bite his arm 😅
⚜️This also makes it a little more difficult to do body shots tbh 😔 not to mention trying to get any sticky wine out of that fur later 🤧
⚜️Among other sticky things 🤭
⚜️And when you’re trying to be sexy and trying to lick him down from neck to abs 😔
⚜️But!! At least he’s all soft and cuddly :)
⚜️You’ll probably literally be rubbing your cheek against his like some kind of cartoon couple! You can’t help it that he’s so snuggly 🥰
⚜️But it’s gonna get very warm under the covers— and not just because he’s getting frisky 🥲 sorry if you get hot easily!
⚜️Also sorry if you're ticklish 🥺 he’s probably trying to be very sexy and romantic by kissing down your stomach all slow and teasingly 😏 but those fuzzy cheeks are probably going to have you giggling and squirming away from him instead 😅 it’s okay, he’ll work with it 😘
⚜️His tail is also a major offender of this! Sometimes, he does it on purpose, but other times, he’s genuinely trying to be sexy when he wraps his tail around your thigh or waist, but it’s so fuzzy! It tickles!
⚜️And that’s okay, too :) he does love making you laugh 🥰
⚜️But there’s another disadvantage… sweat and fur don’t mix— there’s a reason dogs and cats don’t sweat!
⚜️Bandaids and fur also don’t mix 😬 but hey, it’s a lot more intimate wrapping medical tape around his arm or whatever 😏
⚜️And no! He won’t get fleas 😤
#nightcrawler x reader#nightcrawler x reader smut#kurt wagner x reader#kurt wagner x reader smut#nightcrawler#kurt wagner#nightcrawler fic#nightcrawler smut#nightcrawler one shot#nightcrawler oneshot#nightcrawler imagine#nightcrawler headcanons#nightcrawler drabble#kurt wagner imagine#kurt wagner one shot#kurt wagner oneshot#kurt wagner headcanon#kurt wagner drabble#marvel headcanons#marvel#xmen#xmen headcanon#marvel x reader#xmen x reader
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No shave November
M.S 🔞
“Oh fuck, Matt..”
Matt swears he’s in heaven, the soft skin of her thighs underneath his large hands when he spreads them open across his black duvet and pins them down to dip his tongue further into her wet folds is making his own brain and chest fuzzy inside. He feels the blood rushing to his cock the longer he has her spread out on his bed like this, completely bare with her mouth hung open and eyes pinched shut from the sensation his tongue is giving her. He feels himself grind his hips down onto the mattress from how turned on he is just by looking at her, her skin is so smooth and slightly dewy from the lotion he’d watched her apply right before pulling her into his bed. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and her tongue was nearly hanging out of her mouth from how good he was making her feel, her expression embodied the epitome of pleasure and he feels as pride swells around in his chest from knowing it’s all because of him. She tasted so addicting to him, not a single bit of excess wetness dripping from her going to waste. He keeps hooking his arms around her thighs to pull her body down closer to his face, desperate to taste more of her wet cunt.
Her voice, how velvety soft it sounded even in moments like this, every word falling from her lips sounding so needy and breathless as she praised him for how well he was treating her.
Her touch, the way her hands were brushing through his hair. Combing stray hairs from his eyes and slightly gripping on the hair by his scalp when he sucked extra harshly on her clit. He was addicted to her hands in his hair, somehow making him feel so relaxed in contrast of the acts they were performing.
His eyes never left her face once, he feels as his own expression scrunches up in pleasure just by watching her reactions to his lips on her cunt. He could cum in his pants by this, his brain was so fuzzy, only thinking about how he wanted to sink his face further into her wetness.
He was so immersed in watching her and licking at her clit, he hadn’t realized how close he was to making her cum. Her body was shaking and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, whines falling from her lips as she finally looks down at him through furrowed eyebrows and with parted lips.
“Matt baby, you’re-you’re making me feel so good.” She reaches down once more to comb her fingers through his hair, making his eyes roll back with the feeling of them in combination of her praise. He could die happily like this. He pulls back to kiss up and down her inner thighs, the scruff of his beard scratching her slightly and emitting her skin with goosebumps. Replacing his tongue with his fingers when he massages her clit with his thumb. “Yeah baby? You like my tongue on your pussy?” He’s egging her on, anything to hear her pretty voice and watch her pretty lips say his name in praise and affection. It’s making his ego and cock grow.
“Yes, yes, fuck. Please don’t stop Matty. I’m begging you.” The whiny undertone in her voice and the pouty expression on her face makes Matt smirk. With him not being able to get enough of her neediness, he pries more out of her,
“Hm? How bad do you want it?” His lips are now traveling up to her pelvic bone, kissing around the area above her pussy while his thumb continues to stroke her clit softly, she whines feeling her orgasm begin to fade at the way he denies her.
“Please.” Her voice is somewhat quiet and shaky and her head falls back against the pillows as she swallows, gripping the material of them in need.
“Please, Matt. I need to feel your tongue on my pussy. Only you know how to make me cum. Please make me cum, Matty.” She pleas, her breath getting caught in her throat when he mumbles “Good.. That’s my baby girl..” Against her pussy and begins to suck and lick at her clit harshly, now prodding two of his fingers at her entrance and pushing them deep inside of her hot, tight hole to curl them upward against her g-spot.
She gasps and reaches down yet again to tug at his hair, making his cock twitch in the confinement of his briefs and sweatpants. She feels as her stomach begins to churn, and the rest of her body begins to tingle. Her lost orgasm building back up rapidly and more intense than before.
“Matt, M-Matt, Can I cum? Please?” She looks down at him again, her eyes glossy as they meet his from below her, he only nods against her pussy, not wanting to deny her of another orgasm by pulling away. Her mouth hangs open as she feels more of her wetness soaking down to her legs. Letting out breathless moans and whines while he continues to suck on her clit and curl his fingers inside of her. The squelching sounds of her cum against his fingers emitting through his dim bedroom. She quickly begins to feel the sense of overstimulation shock through her lower half, whining out short, high pitched sounds as she pushes his head away softly and tries to grab his wrist. “No more, Matt, Please. I can’t.” She’s out of breath and her stomach is beginning to hurt from how tense her body had become from the overwhelming sensations. He pulls away from her cunt, lips red and shining in her essence as he catches his own breath. She hisses softly when he removes his fingers, he picks himself up from his spot below her and crawls up her body. Now taking notice in how he’s fully clothed compared to her being completely bare on the bed. He smirks and brings his slick-cum covered fingers to her lips. leaning over her expectantly and pleased when she takes his fingers into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his while she sucks her cum off of his fingers.
“I hope you recover quick, baby. because i’m going to fuck you until your sweet little voice is gone.”
#Wrote this in 3 minutes idk#sturniolo triplets smut#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#christopher sturniolo
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staring problem (john price x f!reader, same rank!!)
the visiting weapons specialist was droning on and on, fifteen minutes over his allotted time slot. you should have been paying attention, at least taking notes, but that was hard to do with john price’s glare seeping into the side of your face.
you chanced a side glance and there it was again, steely blue eyes tracking your every movement. his posture uptight and perfect, hands collected in front of him like a king on a throne. he was poised to strike and you dreaded it, could tell by the way his body charged up like preparing for war. like you were the mission.
“thank you for that informative presentation. we’re dismissed for the day. captain, i’d like a word.” he refused to name you under the guise of professionalism, a worse sign. you packed up your belongings as everyone left, hiding shaking hands under the table as you fiddled with your pockets.
“c’mere.” you shook your head no, instead slumping backwards in your chair, eyes trained on the ceiling. john sat back too, content to watch you let down your captain’s mask in front of only him. “captain…” “don’t captain me, john. it’s not going to work.” you scoffed. “you’ve got a staring problem, you know. thought i had something on my face the first twenty minutes of that presentation.” he hummed in thought. “come over here an’ fix it.”
you stomped over, purely out of frustration rather than flirtation. you tried to stop a good foot away, a respectful distance between two captains, but he reached out and tugged you in by your belt loop, trapping you between him and the table. he didn’t let go once he got you there, a heavy hand resting on your hip, his finger twisted in your belt loop. what an arrogant, presumptuous man.
“y’ve been avoiding me.” you tried to look down to your boots but instead made eye contact with his lap, strong thighs straining under woven fabric. what a terrible view. “i’m being a professional.” he squeezed your hip. “is tha’ what friday was? professional?”
“this isn’t very professional, john.” you whispered, almost knocking over the half-empty bottle of whiskey as you straddled him. he pulled you in closer until your pelvises kissed, his eyes dark in the moonlight of his office. “‘s alright, sweetheart, we’re off the clock.” he leaned in to kiss you but you stopped him with a hand to his chest. “no- no kissing on the lips, okay? i can’t, i’m sorry.” he frowned, then leaned in again, lips touching your neck in a sorry imitation of a first kiss.
“friday was a mistake. we were drunk and alone, right?” he moved his chair closer, your legs trapped almost uncomfortably so as he put himself in your line of sight, furrowed brow and well-trimmed beard. “we weren’t drunk, sweetheart. bit fuzzy, but not drunk.” you weren’t sure how to respond to that, arms akimbo at your sides as you planned a way out of this conversation. his free hand grabbed your own, brushing over your worn knuckles before bringing it to his face, entwining your fingers in his beard.
“i like your beard, y’know.” the admission rolled off your tongue easily like the two glasses of whiskey before it. “y’do?” you nodded solemnly. “can i tell you a secret, though?” your eyes flicked up at his, your best impression at being seductive without looking it. “can tell me anything.” his tone made you pause. it sounded like a vow, proud and unwavering. “the recruits make fun of it. they call you captain chipmunk.” he raised an eyebrow and it sent you giggling, scooting closer to him on his office couch. “‘s that why you had them running extra laps yesterday?” you bit back a smile. “maybe.”
you felt like a goddess on an altar, john your willing supplicant. your hand in his beard was like a leash, and he gave you control easily. “can’t believe y’ve got a man like me begging, sweetheart.” you scratched his jaw out of pure curiosity and were rewarded with his closed eyes, an invitation to study him without pressure. you traced his early crow’s feet, dark lashes and smile lines, a few silver hairs in his beard. “begging for what?” he opened his eyes, all blue and wanting. “another friday. another night in my office.”
“hips up, sweetheart.” you whined at loss of his warmth on yours. john laid you down on his couch, unbuttoning your pants with reverence. “up now, there we go. there’s a good girl.” he leaned into the juncture of your thighs, beard scratching you gently as he kissed your scars and stretch marks and every piece of skin in between. the sweetness of it was too much, the aching in your core too much to bear. “john, i need you.” he chuckled, callused hands tugging down your underwear. you swore he moaned, low grumbling as he kissed around your pussy, ignoring where you needed him most. “patience, baby. been waitin’ a while f’ this.”
you pulled your hand away, sitting back on the table as you folded your hands neatly in your lap. “john, i can’t. i-“ the conference room door openly suddenly, subordinate voices filling the room. you cringed inwardly at their view: the female captain spread for her male counterpart, a walking stereotype. it didn’t take a genius to guess who you were, even from the back, based on john’s presence. “out. now.” you made to leave at his command but his strong grip forced you back down, that ever present hand at your waist. the sounds of your intruders slowly faded, but you swore you could hear your name echoing through the halls. you dropped your head to your hands, practically shaking at the thought of even more rumors being spread. never mind you were a captain and worked hard to get where you were - any association with a male colleague was a hit to your reputation. you heard john stand, moving your head to his chest, a gentle hand cradling the back of your neck as he stroked the skin there.
“that’s why, john. i can’t be your captain in the daytime and the girl warming your sheets at night. there’s too much at stake for me to risk it.” he was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. you took the time to soak up the ease of his presence, probably for the last time before he rejected you, cheek pressing into the hardness of his body. warm and powerful, a honed machine capable of so much damage, wrapped in soft murmurs and even softer touches. predictably, he pulled away, untethering himself from you. you wrapped your arms around yourself, preparing for impact.
“think i started us off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.” he tilted your chin up, forcing your eyes on his. “should’ve taken you out on a date first.” wait, what? “took the coward’s way out with the whiskey. i should’ve let y’ get dolled up, nice restaurant, the nine yards.” you moved back, out of his reach again. “what are you saying, john? you’re confusing me.” his voice grew bolder. “‘m sayin’ i want you in every way, not just in my bed.” oh.
“i’m not a nonchalant person. i need a lot of attention.” he nodded. “good thing i’ve got a starin’ problem.” you frowned. “but i’m also busy. you can’t expect me to give you all my time.” he huffed. “i’m a captain too, love.” you pulled him in by the belt loop. “and im not going to put out just because of friday. i need seduction.” his hands landed on your hips again. “got years of experience f’ you.” you locked eyes again, finally without any pretense between you.
“y’ gonna give me your lips? not gonna hide again, are you, sweetheart?” you snorted. instead of answering, you tugged him down towards you, capturing his lips with your mouth. the kiss was soft and sweet until you wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him into your embrace. he squeezed your hips hard, preventing you from bucking into him. “eager, are we?” you shut him up with another kiss, hard and unwielding. “i think i’m already tired of you, john. you’re very presumptuous.” he pulled you in closer, hands moving under your ass as he tugged you up. “never done with you, love.”
#price#john price#price is right#tornadothoughts#price call of duty#captain john price#john price x f!reader#john price x female reader#john price x y/n#john price x you#john price x reader#captain price x reader#price x y/n#price x you#price x reader
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Poly 141 x Baker Reader Warnings : MDNI, fluff? , suggested poly!
“It’s too…crispy?” I hear from the customer in the corner, making me groan mentally. I had always fumbled with making croissants , especially the ones were they’re supposed to be soft and chewy, not rock hard like the fucking earth. I fidget with a strand of hair, my two pretty pink lavender bows are trimmed to perfection and dangle in my hair aimlessly. I tug on my white apron, when I hear the doorbell chime, turning my head to the direction of the sound, I see buff shoulders like they were made to carry damsels in distress and the fucking world. The man wore military green and black, with a vest over as he turned to my direction, his hair shaved except the mohawk he sported so confidently. I fumbled with my name tag. Meanwhile, I see a man with a scurry beard and hairy arms that are visible due to rolled up sleeves of a plaid white shirt, another man had rich creamy skin, his face and body literally glowing as he lays a arm on another man, who seems so damn mysterious, covering his face with a balaclava that is in the form of a skull, dark war paint smudged against his eyes. I open my mouth and start the usual lines of the average customers, expect its much more softer than usual, which I don't even notice,
“Hi! Welcome to Bun”s Bakery! What can I get you?” I say, fixing my name tag : Bun : short for the name Bunnie.
“Hi. So we're gonna start on one tea, 3 cups of dark espresso, and one blueberry muffin.” The man with fuzzy black hair says, with his arm slang over the Skull face-covered man, whom I’m surprised didn’t shove him away.
“Okay! Your total is 10.56$” I say with a smile.
After the payments are done, the group of men find a table in the corner of the cafe, taking in the scene before them. Art pieces hanging around, antiques and sculptures, it was like a hectic history and art, but you couldn’t help but awe at it softly. I turn in just then, carrying their drinks and warmed blueberry muffin on a small white tray.
“Bunnie, right?” the man with the overgrown mohawk says, eyeing my name tag with curiosity.
I nod with a smile “and you lot must be?” I say with a genuine smile for once these days.
“I’m Johnny,” He says, reaching over and pointing at the man with the skull mask, “That’s Simon.” He then points to the prettiest man out of all of them. “That’s Kyle”. He finally then points to the oldest man of the lot, with a slightly overgrown beard. “And, that's our captain, John.”
I smile. “Pleasure to meet you all, you guys are new here?”
John smiles and nods “It’s just temporary for a few months, nothing permanent.”
I smile again, giving them extra napkins and refills, “Well, if you need anything, let me know, you know how hectic Italy can get, am i right?” I give an awkward chuckle and smile.
Throughout their stay, I hear the man give hushed whispers to each other until finally, the skull guy, simon comes up to me with a grunt and says :
“Others wanted to give you their number, here.” He tugs a note with all their phone numbers in there, he grunts again and walks back, his voice was gruff and almost - kind?
I give a small smile and wave as they leave the building, my heart flutters softly, new friends, new starts.
So much for burnt croissants I guess.
#poly!141 x reader#poly 141#poly141 x fem!reader#Poly141 x baker!reader#kyle garrick x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#johnny mactavish x reader
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NFSW Alphabet-Dean Winchester
Warning: Smut, 18+, language, Mention of knives
A/n:
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
First thing he would do is make sure you're okay, then he would get a warm towel and clean you off. Then he would bring you water or anything you needed before cuddling you
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Dean would also be very proud of his hands because they are so strong and rough just like him he knows they really turn you on
His favorite body part of yours is your hips because he likes being able to grab onto you and control you
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Dean likes to be risky sometimes even if you are on birth control sometimes he'll cum inside you
If not he cums on your titties
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Dean secretly loves when you tease him and make him jealous on purpose because then he gets to really show you that you are his and no one else's
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Obviously Dean is gonna be very experienced but boy does this man know how to pleasure the hell out of you!!
Don't even get me started on demon Dean because let's be honest best and hottest sex ever!
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Dean likes when you ride him because he gets to focus on you and making you feel good. But he also really enjoys missionary when you lock your legs around him and he can lift your leg up and go fully deep inside you.
F = Foreplay(how much time do they take pleasing you, teasing, etc) (I haven't actually seen anyone do this and I think it's a fun one to add:)
I feel like Dean would be the KING of foreplay. He would definitely be into edging you on and then not letting you cum. He would do this about 3 times or until you've begged him enough
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
I feel like Dean would start out goofy like just bullying you and purposely trying to get you a little riled up and then he would take control
But if you make him jealous he will be so serious because he wants you to know that he's in charge of you and he'll make you listen
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dean has a little bit of hair but not a crazy amount, maybe just like his beard where it's slightly rough but not overwhelming
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Dean is actually very intimate with you because he's so happy to finally be with someone who really loves him and excepts him and helps him
If he's jealous he's not as intimate but he'll still make sure you're okay
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dean has a very high sex drive so I feel like he would do it a lot
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Dean loves choking you because he loves feeling like he has power and control over you. But you also like it because even though he's being dominant you still trust him to not hurt you
Dean also wouldn't mind you being tied up with either a rope or his belt just to control you
I feel like Demon Dean would ABSOLUTELY have a knife kink. Not ever to draw blood but just graze your skin
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
If Dean could have you anywhere and everywhere he could. You and Dean definitely have sex every time you guys are sleeping at the bunker and if Sam isn't around sometimes you guys will try other rooms in the bunker.
SHOWER SEX!!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He loves seeing you in one of his flannels and some fuzzy socks with your hair in a messy ponytail or bun. If you have your glasses on that's an extra bonus:)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that would hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dean likes receiving head because you are the best he's ever had
But he could also just sit there and eat you for a long time
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Dean is always really fast and rough because that's who he is
There are definitely times when he's upset you or is sorry or just wants to make you feel better he will take his time and make sure to let you know how special you are to him
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If Dean can have you anywhere he could so if he gets a chance like if Sam leaves to get food or do research you guys usually will end up doing the deed
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
I feel like Dean would be really risky with you but he would also make sure you were okay with everything he is doing
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Dean can usually last about 3 or 4, possibly 5 if he's really horny
Demon Dean could go forever as long as he wanted but once you were to tired or sore he would stop
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I feel like since Dean likes teasing and foreplay he would definitely be okay with you having a vibrator if he could control it and tease you with it
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Dean very much likes to tease you because he's the king of foreplay and will make you squirm
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Dean is usually very vocal and his voice is so low and raspy his moans are even deeper and sexier
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Lazy sex I feel like is something that Dean would really like. Especially after a hunt or if you guys have a free day
Car sex. If he's really desperate he'll opt to just do the deed in Baby.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Dean might not be as long as Sam but he can definitely satisfy you. But he's also super thick so he fills you out more
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Dean has a very high sex drive and is usually very handsy in public
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Dean would first clean you, bring you water or food, then he would either give you a back massage or just rub your arm or play with your hair until you fall asleep and then he would spoon you and fall asleep after.
#dean winchester#jensen ackles#supernatural#supernatural imagine#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x you#jared padalecki#sam winchester smut#sam winchester
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Over The Phone
Dad Bod!Professor!Miguel x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Just... NSFW. So much NSFW. Phone sex, masturbating, sexy selfies, sexting, all that shit.
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: God this took forever to churn out but I finally got motivation to finish it!!
Taglist: @cupcakeinat0r @tojishugetiddies (if I forgot to tag anybody let me know, pls! I lost the saved list I had for people alshldhd)
Divider by @/across-the-art-verse
Miguel art @ meeee
The day had dragged on for what felt like far longer than usual for him; the usual students who showed up late, tried to sneak out, slept through the lecture or just ignored whatever he said.
The students who listened and actively engaged with the lesson were few and far between, and the almost silent lull between classes felt felt almost too short. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered, especially with the growing list of students who were disinterested in his class, or those that only signed up for extra credit and didn't want to do the work...
But, getting cards and thank-you post-its from students who felt like they wouldn't have been able to graduate without him kept him on in this tedium. He loved to hear from his former students about how their new careers were going--careers they credit hi to helping them achieve.
It never failed to make his heart all warm and fuzzy when he thought about them.
Miguel ran his hand across his beard, and a thought came to him about maybe shaving it off. He had grown it out; rather rugged if he had to admit it. But, he quickly shook that thought away--you loved his beard. Oftentimes he would wake up from a nap, you snuggled perfectly against his solid frame, your nails dragging through the short hairs with a content smile on your face.
Oh, he couldn't say no to you, his pretty little wife, could he?
Speaking of which... it was your day off. He couldn't help but wonder what you were--
When his phone pinged, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and unlocks the screen to see a text from you;
Hiii baby, how's work going?
He chuckled and replied, Same as usual. Only two students slept through class this lime
*time
Your reply was swift.
Awww I'm sry :(
If it makes you feel any better, if I were in your class... wait. I wouldn't get any work done either. I'd just be lookin at you :p
He laughed, his belly shaking a little bit as he grinned at his screen, his massive fingers fumbling the small keys once again on the too-small phone screen.
Yes, you would mafe a very door student, wouldn't you, amor?
*made *poor
Miguel rolled his eyes. He was tempted to try and see if they didn't make phones built for someone with his giant hands in mind... Damn this tiny screen!
Awww my Miggy gettin all frustrated?
Yes.
For what felt like too long, his message was left on "read". He quirked a bushy brow, scratching at his beard curiously at what was keeping you.
And then, his phone pinged again.
Here, maybe this'll keep you entertained ;)
*Image attached. Click to view.*
He hummed in curiosity. Maybe it was one of those silly little doodles you liked to send to him? One of your memes, maybe? Though, it didn't make sense why the image was blurred, when--
His heart lurched up into his throat and he instantly slammed his phone against his desk, screen down; looking around pointlessly as if he were worried someone was standing over his shoulder when the image finally cleared.
Cursing himself for acting like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, Miguel slowly lifted his phone to his face and looked at the picture you'd sent him.
You were nude, laying belly-down in your bed, the blankets askew around you. Your feet crossed one over the other as you smiled at the lens--you must have moved the full body mirror from the living room to your bedroom to achieve this shot--and your back was arched slightly to show off your bare ass.
He felt his cock twitch to life as he examined every pixel on the screen; wishing so badly he were home right now, to touch that soft expanse of flesh he loved so much. To cup your ass in his palms, feeling the warmth of your skin in his palms as his fingers massaged and groped the skin.
He could feel your hands slide up the soft pouch of his belly, scraping your nails delectably through the short, curly dark hairs that ran up his abdomen and covered his chest. He could feel your teeth scrape and tug his nipple before kissing your way back down...
Dios, mi amor. You're lucky I am not in the middle of a meeting! He hastily typed, pretending he wasn't practically salivating over that selfie.
Aw, didn't you like what I sent? :'(
I didn't say--
But before he could finish typing and send the text, he got another attached image from you.
He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat and his thumb hovered over the image hesitantly. He looked towards the clock above the door to his classroom. He had half an hour left...
When the image unblurred, he felt his heart damn near stop.
You were perched on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide; one hand was holding your phone while the others spread you slick folds with nimble fingers and a cheeky expression on your face.
How bout this one?
Miguel groaned, loudly. He actually slipped a hand over his plush lips, cringing at how damn near pathetic that sounded.
He immediately clicked your contact information and hit "call".
The phone rang a painfully long, droning tone until your bubbly voice giggled on the other end of the line, "Heyyyy Miggy~"
"You are going to kill me, baby." He hissed into his phone, pressing the heel of his palm into his throbbing erection, "I'm in the middle of a school day! The students are at lunch!"
"Ohhh, did I get you all hard and excited for me?" You sigh dreamily into the phone, your voice dropping into a more sultry tone.
"Naughty boy, popping a stiffy in the middle of class."
He grunted, his head dropping back against his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he tugged the ends of his button-up out from his rapidly-tightening jeans, "And whose fault is that?"
You gasp theatrically, "Mine? Oh, baby, I was just trying to provide you moral support, I swear!"
"Of course," Miguel huffed, eyeing the doorknob, waiting to see if he was unlucky enough that somebody were to walk in right as he pulled his cock free from his jeans, running his fingers over the swollen tip, smearing his precum around it.
He could hear in your voice, the way you were biting your lip in excitement as you spoke. "Baby, are you touching yourself?"
"You tell me, first." He replied, his voice strained as he gave himself a few tentative strokes; trying to gauge if the risk was worth it.
"Oh? Want me to tell you that I'm playing with my pussy?" You croon. "That I'm imagining you, and me, in bed..."
His teeth snagged his plush bottom lip briefly as he sped his hand up to your words, then slowed back down again. The friction wasn't right; too dry. So, he sucked on his tongue until he had a nice glob of saliva; bringing his hand up to his mouth to wet it before slicking his throbbing length up.
"Go on." He grumbled into the line.
"...ooooh." You giggled, your voice a little breathless. He could see you now, laying back on the bed, your fingers plunging in and out of you, pulling out to stroke your puffy clit; your pussy drooling into the blankets beneath you.
"Mmmm~ I'm also imagining you on top of me, my legs on your shoulders..."
He felt the oxygen squeeze from his lungs as he upped his pace, the vein in his cock throbbing and thumping in time with his rapid heart rate.
"Yeah, bebita?"
"Yeah." You huff, a small moan coming from you; "'m imagining you pinnin' me down, fucking a baby into me."
"Dios." Miguel groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his fist. "You want a baby, hermosa? Want me to make you a mami?"
"Mhmm... want you to fill me aaaallllll the way up." You whined, your panting hot, even through the phone.
Miguel dared a glance up at the clock. Still had some time... He needed to do it quickly; needed to milk his cock so he wouldn't appear "improper" with a massive erection straining his pants.
As if enough of his female students (and even some of the male ones) didn't have enough difficulty paying attention in class...
He'd be lying if he hadn't gotten a few love confessions from students, present and former. He'd always politely turn them down, and then, if they were currently his pupils, politely and quietly have them sent to another class to avoid any improper behavior in the future.
It was as if none of them ever paid any mind to the gold band firmly secured to his ring finger--the matching mate to the one you wore on your own softer, delicate hand signifying your matrimonial bonds. Or... maybe they had and assumed they could tempt him from you.
Well, those assumptions were always wrong. The only person he could imagine bouncing on his cock, sucking it, milking it, stroking it--was you. You and only you.
Sometimes thinking of you when he was alone was the only ways he could get off, before you started dating. Even finding porn of a woman who looked like you wasn't enough. It had to be you.
And after the first time he felt your pretty pink pussy swallow his cock whole? Oh, he was addicted. Addicted and whipped, a few of his colleagues would say...
The professor and the school nurse; a bit of a cliche; but it was a nice one. The two of you had even played with a slutty nurse outfit or two.
You not always being the nurse...
"Fuck, Miggs, 'm so close." You whine loudly. He could see in his mind's eye how fast your fingers would be working your clit, maybe even giving in and plunging one of your silicone toys in and out of your tight hole for him.
In fact, he could imagine it so closely he could hear it.
"Shit, baby..." He hissed, his hand working his length furiously, now, almost in a race with you to see who would cum first. "You on speaker??"
"Mhmm~" You whine, your air leaving your body in wet-hot pants, the sound of your slick pussy being fucked--by your hand or your toy, he couldn't place--but the sound of it had his balls tightening up already.
"Gonna cum for me, mi amor?" Miguel huffed and puffed, more thick precum dribbling down from his tip. He smeared it over himself, using the fluid as lube to help hasten his impending orgasm.
"Yeah, baby~"
He snarled, the sound of stroking skin lewd and loud; your moans the best pornography his ears could ever be graced with.
"Cum for me, honey." Miguel whined, his glasses slipping further down his nose as he released his cock long enough to yank his shirt up over the soft, rounded edge of his tummy.
Immediately after, his hand returned once more around the thick pulsing shaft of him; stroking, tugging, milking himself like he knew your sweet cunt would. Your tight, wet, needy pussy that was dying for a drop of his cum.
As you wantonly moaned; he could imagine you splayed out in bed, legs wide and mouth open as you shout your orgasm out for him to hear, drowning out the outside world... and as his eyes would drift down, he could imagine your belly, cute and round; a baby kicking out at his hand as he caressed the stretched-out skin.
The image of you carrying his baby sent his mind into a blazing fire, the tightening in his balls and swelling of his cock too much to bear. Miguel arched his back, the wheels of his chair squeaking faintly across the floor as he curled his toes in his polished shoes, hot, thick ropes of cum shooting out to coat his belly, fingers, and even the underside of his desk; your name leaving his lips in a flurry of obscene prayers.
His mind was fuzzy as he slowly came down from his high, the sound of your giggle snapping him back to reality:
"See you when you get home, Miggy~"
The phone hangs up, and Miguel is left with his pearly white mess coating his belly, making his skin and hair sticky. At least he didn't get any on his shirt. This time.
The bell rang, suddenly, shaking him to full lucidity from his post-coital haze, his hairs standing on end and making him jolt up straight.
He hastily grabbed a few tissues from his desk drawer and began cleaning up, shoving a few stray stands of his graying hair back into place as he began to hear the chatter and footfall of students in the halls.
Oh, you would pay for this when you got home, all right.
#Db!Miguel O'hara#Dad bod!Miguel O'hara#Db!Professor!Miguel O'hara#Dad bod!Professor!Miguel O'hara#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#Db!Miguel O'hara x Reader#Db!Miguel O'hara x you#Professor!Miguel O'hara x you#Professor!Miguel O'hara x reader#atsv x reader#teacher au
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HOLY SHIT now I'm thinking about Stucky at the bear hooters. One of them is the server and he has massive sagging moobs that fill out the little top tiny booty shorts that do nothing for his giant round ass and his gut is so large that it hangs down so far that it hides the booty shorts so he looks practically naked, while the other is waited on by him and he spends more time staring at his waiter than actually eating. He's so preoccupied with staring that he doesn't even know what he's ordering until all the food is put in front of him and it's A LOT of food and the waiter tells him how proud of him he is. I don't know if this is a fake stereotype but I've heard that hooters waitresses will flash their boobs at the patrons and sit on their laps and things like that, and I imagine the waiter (I don't know if it would be hotter if it were Bucky or Steve) would the patron's belly when it got too painful and lovingly feed him food until he was all gone. Is there alcohol at hooters? Imagine if the patrons could tip their waiters with food and alcohol to see them get drunk and bloated until they're easy to play with and the more often they come in to see them, the more the two of them have changed- the patron orders the waiters alcohol and food to make them bigger, and then they eat to have an excuse to be there. I DON'T KNOW DUDE NOT I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT EIHER.
Bear Hooters
Bear Hooters a.k.a. Roars a.k.a. Growlers a.k.a. My Actual Fucking Roman Empire
I love this. I love you. I could kiss you on the mouth for this chunk of thoughts. Every part of it is unfairly hot. Just like you were lamenting, though, I cannot for the life of me decide who would be a hotter server.
Initially, I can't lie, I was picturing Bucky all the fucking way, like, Civil War Bucky. Chunky, beefy, hairy Bucky. That's the Bucky I think of whenever I think of Bear Bucky.
And now I think of Thunderbolts trailer Bucky, too. Give me all the thick, soft-yet-strong beefy, hair, and tired-of-your-shit attitude
My mouth is watering. Who said that?
And I think about this Bucky because of those frazzling details. The beef, obviously. The hair on his head and the hair that you know would be spread all over his chest, in his pits, and between his legs as well as down them. He's fuzzy. He's a bear for sure. Not to mention how grumpy he is. He's giving bear right before hibernation that is lazy and tired yet needs to get shit done, so it lumbers around, a slab of fat and muscle not to be fucked with.
HOWEVER
The more I think about Hooters, the more I think about how, obviously, tits are a huge part of it. Ass, too, but mostly tits. And... no one has better tits in the MCU - I'm sorry everyone else, but you know it's true - than Steve. Not to even mention, that is literally America's ass, so he has no problems with the more minor assets needed to fill out his resume.
So, maybe Steve is the server with his tits spilling out of his tiny little tank top, especially once he starts to add some softness to his big, big frame because once his body starts to fill out - entering hibernation mode if you will - then his tits get all swollen. Like, they're still high and tight but there's this extra volume to them, making his tank top strain across the meat of his chest, warping the logo of the restaurant so badly that you can't even really read it anymore. It's not just that, though, his tits overfill the tank top from the sides and the top, too. He has cleavage and side boob and when his belly swells up, filled with all the leftovers from his shift, his tank top rises all the way up his domed, taut gut to show off underboob, too.
I am melting.
If we want to really make him bear, though, I guess we should imagine this Steve not as freshly microwaved Steve but as nomad Steve with all his glorious body hair. The beard. The grown-out hair. The hair on his fucking forearms in his rolled-up, worn uniform. Yeah. That Steve has the real makings to be a bear.
Tiddies 🤤🤤
So........ I still have no idea who I want to be the server more.
Anyway, YES, I do love the idea of having the servers sit in people's laps to praise them about eating. Maybe teasing them, even, saying that it's good they finished it all and, hey, if they're looking for a job, then they're shaping up just right to come and work here, yanno? Just look at that pudgy, overfull belly and how those moobs are coming along, nipples through their shirt, aroused by having such a heavy, crushing, hot bear in their lap making them wheeze for breath even more than they already were from having so much fast, greasy food churning in their stomach.
When I was thinking about Bear Hooters originally, I was thinking purely about the display that the big, fat servers would be. I was thinking about allowing patrons to tip them in food and drink only, no extra money, they get paid enough to be fattened up and drooled over. I wasn't thinking about fattening up the patrons but... both. I like both.
Maybe patrons pay to share a challenge dish, or something, with their favorite server? They have to eat halves? Splitting it so you end up with the patron and server stuffed together, pudgy hip to hip in a booth, wedged in too tight to move, other patrons and servers gathering around to pod and tease and congratulate. If not for the uniforms... no one would know who works here and who doesn't. Either way, they both came for the food and bellies.
#ask#mylevisdontfitanymore#belly kink#text#stuffing#weight gain#alcohol consumption#bucky barnes#steve rogers#stucky#chubby bucky#chubby steve
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Downtown abbey 1970
Edith and mary as old people
After 28 years of dodging the Crawley family gatherings. Edith is coming home for Christmas. Maybe she is a glutton for punishment.But it feels like the right thing to do. Even though Bertie her husband and all of her girlfriends back home in Australia think she has gone bananas.
She has always been the black sheep. The chubby girl in a family full of Disney princesses and incredibly charming women. Of which she is neither.
The Last time she went home for Granny's 100th birthday palooza in 1942, it was an absolute disaster. She smeared blueberry pie all over Mary, her dragon lady older sister.The look on the skinny gargoyle's face when Mary realized her white silk dress was ruined was priceless.
Mary wouldn't shut up about what a fat, hopeless cow Edith was as a mother.Edith deserved some of it, for writing that embarrassing story about her sister all those years ago when she was a teenager. And a million other awful things she had said in the heat of the moment. But Mary should have left Bertie out of it.
Luckily,granny and her friends were pretty tipsy and completely deaf. Thank God, nobody heard what Mary said about Bertie's strong feminine side.It would have ruined both of their lives.People were really funny about that sort of thing now.Even with all this talk about free love.It was true he liked to crossdress and sometimes very discreetly meet with men. He had told her before they got engaged and she hadn't cared.As long he never left her and she didn't have to meet or hear about them.Bertie helped cover up her daughter being born out of wedlock. Very few men would have done that back then. He was good to both of them and helped her make the big decisions in the marriage which made her rather panicky. And he bought her flowers just because.
Which no man had ever did before.Edith is not making this trip for herself.Honestly, she would rather stay put surrounded by fans and friends who adore her.The great neices and nephews only knew her as the old lady who writes mystery novels and plays that sent them bizarre gifts from all the places she and Bertie had traveled to.
Marigold, her daughter is hosting the Christmas party at her house in Beverly Hills, California this year. She has had a rough year with that divorce and that jealous crackpot trying to discredit her work.He was proven wrong and settled out of court ,but still. It has been all about Edith for a long time,which isn't right. Rose said that last year,When they were on a trip to India when Edith struggled to make excuses yet again for Christmas.
Rose didn't understand what the fight was about and thought Edith hated her.Even though Rose is in her early sixties, Edith will always think of her as the silly energetic kid who kind of looked like Tinkerbelle and always thought when people where fighting it must have somehow been her fault.Even if things should go bad , she will have fun checking out the Hollywood walk of fame with her daughter and Rose.Also she found a muumuu that makes her look 20 pounds lighter,That is something.
Edith had an extra bullet in her arsonel. She has been reading this new self help book called " I am ok ,your okay". which is really beneficial in healing yourself and dealing with difficult people.She was keeping that and a barrage of snappy comebacks handy , just in case , Mary started on how fake Edith's red hair looks when she waddled through the front door. Edith arrived in L.A. all safe in sound thanks in part to the exceptionally kind bearded gentleman in the fuzzy lavender trousers.
Who aided her in finding a bakery in which to buy a Chocolate yule log and a pumpkin pie that was open Christmas eve. He also aided her in getting unstuck from the backseat of that cab.Marigold was surprised and showered her mother with kisses the moment she came in.Suprisingly, she wasn't too irritated about Edith being a little late.But then,Edith is always late.This time it wasn't her fault.She was chasing the damned luggage all around the airport.
Marigold did roll her eyes when Edith said she wanted to make a dramatic entrance and that is why she didn't call first and ask for a lift from the airport.Maybe later Edith could hint about her making a trip to Melbourne.
The handsome widower down the block from them liked quiet women.They both liked to ride horses.Marigold looked like a younger version of Katherine Hepburn.She even wore the office shirts with the popped up collar,everywhere.Rose is passing out Father Christmas hats and showing off her engagement ring Garesh had given her.They had known each other when Rose was growing up in India and reconnected on that trip to India. And had been writing letters to each other every day every since.Everyone is present except George, Mary's eldest son.Who couldn't face his mother with his latest much younger wife and baby girl.Edith offered to accompany them as acting president of the black sheep club.
But he was afraid of what people would say about his abandonment of his mother and the house. Even though his brother Reggie.The one that came back from the war years later with the most insane story of why he had been away so long. Had major success with the beer garden and'' no shrinkin' violet beer label. And took good care of his mother.
Mary sitting on the neon orange couch next to the aluminum Christmas tree. Thin as a rail and Regal as the queen she was named after.Her older sister still dressed like it was the 40's. complete with white gloves and a blue and white polka dot dress with a stiff lace collar.Their was something decidedly different about Mary.The arrogant smirk has been replaced by a vacant look.Mary is muttering something to the aluminum Christmas tree who she thinks is a copper. Something about the beach and finding henry and her boys. My God she thinks it 1928 , not 1970, Edith shakes her head.
Mary is the only one not in line getting food.They used to play pranks on each other all the time.But she really looks terrified and lost maybe.Reggie needs a break , he looks so worn down.So Edith gets kid -sized portions of everything.(Mary never did eat much: you can't when you wear a corset all the time) And Edith gets her to eat and they talk while watching Charlie Brown.
The whole time Mary thinks Edith is granny.Which is irritating because she didn't think she looked quite THAT old.Even bringing up that dinner and medal of honor she received for saving all those jews during the war (it was way more than the handful ,mary had always said) didn't ring a bell.But watching Charlie Brown and listening to the cartoon kid with the blankie talk about the real meaning of Christmas. Nothing matters but right now ,even if you are thirty years too late
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"Gather up your tears; keep 'em in your pocket...."
---
I saw that we were short on Captain Tangent 'fics, so I wrote one... with no dialogue. Enjoy the boy!
“A penny for your thoughts (Oh no)”
Read on AO3
Character study series
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This was meant to be 2k words, but my OG opening line got pushed nearly 5k down by impromptu tangents and honestly I wouldn't have it any other way.
(First 1,000[+] words under the cut)
---
For "safety reasons," Connor spends his whole 4th grade year with Uncle Bill, Aunt Josie, and his 6-year-old cousin Lilith. It's quite the adjustment. He's almost taller than all three of them (separately- not combined), even though his next growth spurt hasn't kicked in yet. Yeah, puberty's been taking its sweet time with that. He's started sprouting blond stubble down his legs and under his arms, but the extra hair is all he has to show for himself so far.
Rapid hair growth actually runs in the family. His dad used to sport a full, fuzzy beard. You know, both his parents have always had hairy arms and legs. It's fun to watch goosebumps prickle up in waves. Mom's arm does that when they watch scary movies together. Like Duskrunners: an enchanting tale of psychological horror and mystery! First filmed in 1944, directed by Cora J. Williams. The lead actress and actor later got married, even though they both died onscreen in much too gruesome of a way for a young boy to see. But it was fun!
Connor's been scruffy ever since he was a kid. He's still a kid, freshly 10 years old (His birthday flew past him in September) - but, well… you know. Once when he was young and roaming the beach with shovel and pail, he even overheard a little girl whisper to her mother, asking why he had "fur" all down his back. It's just how genetics dealt his hand. He also has poor teeth, but that's partly his own fault. He devours all sorts of sweets, especially from the arcade's prize counter or the coin dispenser machines at the front of the grocery store. You can find all sorts of hard candy there. His favorite flavor's cherry, but it wasn't always. For the last three years, he's leaned towards grape. Before that, he liked blueberry. Something about strong fruity flavors just tickles his fancy.
Though, there's definitely something to be said about cotton candy. A single lick always conjures up memories of exploring the amusement park, hand in hand with Dad while Mom snapped pictures with one of the dozen disposable cameras she carried around. Actually, dozen is a bit of a misconception. She had eight of those cameras. Gifts from her mother-in-law, they were. She rarely uses them anymore.
Not because she doesn't like her mother-in-law. Actually, they've always gotten along great. Connor's even named after her: his Granny Connie. There's an interesting story he can tell about her: Granny Connie thrived as the best swimmer on her high school team in her younger years. She won every contest. Her backyard stood full of conifers, and she even kept a pet conure as a kid. And she might have been a part-time con-woman. Not sure; her stories can be a little convoluted. One thing he does remember quite clearly is the way Granny Connie often said that telling stories reminded her of baking bread. Sometimes you have to let them sit and leave them there to rise. What a listener chooses to do with their freshly cut slice of bread after that is entirely up to them.
Sometimes Connor counts himself lucky to be blond. It was inevitable, of course. Both his parents have light-colored hair. It means he can see himself quite well in their old pictures- even the black and white ones. It feels familiar. Mom always says he looks just like she did back in her day. Undoubtedly true. See, Mom's always been as honest as a piggy bank. Her paintings reflect this; the landscapes she dabbles in shine without exaggeration. She gave up lying a long time ago, back when he was but a wee boy hoping for a cookie or cupcake in the evenings. The thing is, she often needs to think before she answers him. Her hands stall in completely different ways before she answers him in truth versus when she's lightly fibbing. He's picked up on that and she'll never pull one over him again.
Not that her lies have ever been cruel, by any means. Oh, goodness no. The fact is, Mom's all so very sensitive with her praise. He might be too, in her position; she's both an artist and an art critic. Makes her cranky sometimes. But really, she's the most supportive woman he could ask for as a mother. He and Ruth both love her dearly. Ruth's his half-sister, away at university right now. Sometimes she calls. She's quite busy at the moment, though. Seems like she's dating someone new every couple weeks, but at least the revolving door of potential partners always bring along exciting stories.
You wouldn't guess it if you only knew his mom, but Connor's been classed as "the tall one" ever since his birth. Entirely true! No embellishment necessary. He and Ruth always stand in the middle or back row of the extended family photos. The pictures hanging here in his aunt and uncle's hallway are proof of that. They have six photos- one for every other year since they tied a knot together. Where that knot lies now, he isn't sure. Aunt Josie is an eldest daughter. A bit of a control freak, but nice enough. Needs everything kept ship-shape, though, and she'll tell you in those exact words.
Once, Connor actually did try to sit cross-legged on the floor with most of his cousins during a photo session. It didn't really pan out. At least, not any better than their interactions around the kids' table come Thanksgiving. There are three young sprouts blooming from his mom's side and four on his dad's. Plus half a dozen more from Mom's first husband, but the Harrisons are certainly a wily bunch and even he can barely keep up with them. They seem to multiply like rabbits. Or was it rats?
No, definitely rabbits. Also through the Harrison side of his family, he and Ruth proudly claim connection with an estranged second cousin named Flynn who's been parasailing in fourteen different countries… or possibly more than that by now. All his cousins have such a varied range of interests that it's a wonder they all grew up in the same family. One of his cousins likes race cars. Two of them - they're twins - know more about dinosaurs than Connor ever will, even if he studies bones for the rest of his life. That's not to say he isn't fond of bones. He's always admired a good museum or aquarium exhibit depicting hulking skeletal beasts suspended on cable and twine. Though, he does know the difference between a tarsal and a metatarsal, so perhaps it's a worthy field of study to investigate as he grows older. What's that line of research called again? Paleontology?
You know, Connor was never into dinosaurs or race cars as a kid. He liked scaling trees, playing croquet, splashing through the creek, catching lizards and grasshoppers, and all sorts of adventuring like that. He used to scratch his legs up real good in the process. Er… real bad. Badly? Either way, Mom always sent him to rinse off when he came stumbling back home. Sometimes he'd even be hopping on one leg. Showers are never a delightful way to spend his free time, but it's a necessary cruelty; infection's no fun for anybody. She'd make a game of it. And it worked for them; she'd pay attention to him instead of to her art. Connor could talk to her one-sidedly while she looked him over, smearing rubbing alcohol up and down his legs with her palm. She'd kiss him on the forehead and ruffle his hair before he went romping off again, dragging a stuffed toy or a kite behind him.
[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]
#Captain Tangent#WordGirl#ridwriting#Cursed magnet prince#apparently art#Satirical vocab alien child show#fic announcement
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200 Films of 1952
Film number 169: Denver and Rio Grande
Release date: May 16th, 1952
Studio: Paramount
Genre: western
Director: Byron Haskin
Producer: Nat Holt, Harry Templeton
Actors: Edmond O’Brien, Sterling Hayden, Kasey Rogers
Plot Summary: In 1870 as work begins on the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, a rival group, led by McCabe, hopes to complete their own railway in the same area. McCabe is willing to resort to any means, including deadly violence, to sabotage the D & RG. Jim Vesser, one of the D & RG’s head men, fights back with his own extra-legal plan.
My Rating (out of five stars): ***
Although there is nothing spectacular about this film, I did find myself engrossed in it all the way through. I’m a big dork who has always found the history of building railroads and telegraph lines in early 19th century America kind of thrilling. In just a few years it totally transformed a country it was believed would take hundreds of years to populate. I also wanted to watch it because I love Sterling Hayden. Overall, it’s not a bad way to spend 90 minutes, even if it’s no cinematic masterpiece. (some spoilers)
The Good
Kasey Rogers! She was the revelation of the film for me. She took a role that could’ve been boring and thankless and elevated it to one of the most interesting. I was really impressed with her acting. Reading about her in real life only increased my affection for her. She was on Bewitched in the 1960s, she was pretty liberal, and she wrote several books. Most badass of all, she got interested in Motocross racing in the 1970s and worked at getting more women into the sport! She helped establish the first association for a women’s pro-league! I found a new love!
Sterling Hayden as a bad guy. I like him a lot as an actor, but he was so good at making me hate him in this! The gross fuzzy beard he wore definitely helped though!
Edmond O’Brien. He was effective as a tough frontier dude- he really looked the part. He’s so much of a man’s man, I didn’t find him all that attractive personally, but I think a pretty boy type wouldn’t have worked as well in the role.
I liked the hint of the romance that happened in it. We saw no kiss or direct evidence of it beyond a little flirting. A slight arm around the waist was more emotionally stirring than a smooch would have been.
The story was interesting and filled with constant back and forth combat. There were several impressive explosions, and I’m not someone who’s really into that stuff. The movie didn’t give you time to get bored, even if you could fairly easily predict the final outcome.
The use of real trains was also impressive. Most of them did not appear to be models.
There was also a lot of nice location footage.
Technicolor always looks better inside a studio than outdoors, but I thought it looked quite good here.
The Bad:
The “good guy” “bad guy” stuff was a little too simplistic at times. There weren’t many grey areas to add complexity.
It wasn’t too difficult to predict how everything would turn out in the end.
There were sooo many gunfights! Yes, I know it’s a western, and gun flights are obligatory, but I got pretty bored with them after a while.
All the extra-legal stuff! It was brought up several times that Vesser should wait to let the law handle things rather than become a billboard for vigilante justice. I kept hoping the film wouldn’t reward him or glorify him for maneuvering outside the law. It did reward him, unsurprisingly. Worst of all, the Sheriff tried to give him some legal repercussions at the end, but when the General in charge of the whole project said, “You’ll have to arrest me too,” the Sherriff totally backed down. So not only did vigilante justice win in the end, it won by proving the law is less important the more power you have. That’s certainly true in real life, but I didn’t like that it was portrayed as a positive thing in this movie!
The comedy relief characters fell flat to me. I like Zasu Pitts, but her escapades with the Irish engineer made me cringe instead of laugh.
Re: the movie poster, who was Laura Elliot? Shouldn't the name Kasey Rogers have been there? Wait, I just figured it out- Rogers was billed under the stage name Laura Elliot earlier in her career. Huh.
#1952 movies#100 films of 1952#kasey rogers#sterling hayden#200 films of 1952#200 films of 1952 film 169
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9x02 | The Bridge
#HELLO MY GORGEOUS OLD MAN#Rick Grimes#*#rg#S9#💕 Fuzzy Daddy 💕#still want to rub his head like it's a crystal ball and i'm a cheap ass fortune teller at a county fair#Papa Bear 🐻💕#cradle the glorious santa beard#with your hands with your thighs#idc#why not both#that bottom lip is illegal#even in the apocalypse#rogue neck fuzzies 💙#ROGUE FUZZIES#the way his ears stick out#one second i'm fine and then there he is and i'm like fill me to the brim#bout to make like that time i played Life and had so many kids i had to get an extra car
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Pretty Please - Chris Evans [Blurb]
pairing: Chris Evans x lipa!singer!reader
summary: Chris and his friends attend your show in Miami and they make fun of him after you perform a song inspired by him.
a/n: thanks for requesting this after my swift!reader was posted, hope you enjoy it!
Feedback, comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated <3
I can't believe, I can't believe / I finally found someone / I'll sink my teeth in disbelief / 'Cause you're the one that I want / I can't believe there's something left inside my chest anymore / But goddamn, you got me in love again
Your eyes catch your boyfriend Chris along with Anthony and Sebastian in the first row of the VIP area as the cords of the song ends a new one begins to sound in the whole stadium. You smile at them and then wink as you finish saying "Somewhere in the middle, I", the first line of your song. You put your heart out in this performance, nailing the choreography. It's the first show of your 'Future Nostalgia Tour' after all. And maybe, who knows, maybe you try extra hard to put on a show for Chris.
Once you come back to the center of the stage, you notice your boyfriend is not where you left him a minute ago. It's okay. You told Chris he could leave and go backstage if he and his friends didn't feel like staying the whole concert with the public. Still, it makes your heart race even faster, worrying about what could have gone wrong he had to leave before the end of the song. Thankfully, you are only 2 songs away from finishing the show, so you keep up with the energy for the rest of it.
"Thank you, Miami! I love you so much! You were amazing!" you say goodbye taking off your earpieces as the beat of the song is extended for you to leave the stage with your dancers.
You hear them yelling between them as you try to regain a normal, steady pace after two hours of singing and dancing in front of thousands of people.
"A-ma-zing!" you hear an indistinctive voice when you reach the back of the stage and find 'the group' sitting on the sofas.
"Thank you, Anthony." you say breathless, feeling a pair of strong arms covered in a brown sweater engulf your sweaty frame. Chri's beard tickles your skin when he places a peck on your cheek, the blood quickly rushing to the spot, making your face hotter.
You turn on your heels to properly kiss him, getting some yells from the dancers, team, and, of course, Anthony and Sebastian. But it doesn't matter when you feel like you have never kissed him, but it's just been a few hours since that. He... he makes your heart beat fast, a feeling you assumed you would never experience again before meeting him. You thought that there was a rock on your ribcage where your heart was supposed to be. That's how little you believed in love, but he just makes you feel like that like it's safe to jump, to want all the strings attached, to love again. He was your muse, your inspiration in all your songs.
"I missed you. You did great," he says breaking the kiss and placing a peck on your neck. "as always."
"I'm sweaty, but thank you, lovie." Chris places his arm around your shoulders, squeezing you closer to him. His touch provides a warm fuzzy feeling in you, it feels like you are in heaven without having to leave the Earth every time he's touching you. Your bubble is broken by a staff member passing you a towel and a bottle of water. You suddenly realize you are not the only two people in the room.
"Uhhhhhh, I think they are about to do the pretty please."
"What's that?" you dry your face and neck, not caring about the makeup, and have gulps of your drink.
"Don't, Mackie, if I have to..." Sebastian shakes his head in disbelief, looking hopeless while Chris is quiet and red next to you, his arm slightly moving as he wobbles in his place, knowing there's nothing really stopping Anthony from saying it.
"Shush, Stan. It means you are about to get it on, Y/N.
"We are not, stop-"
"Why? Are we not?" you stop Chris, pretending to be in shock. He gets redder and moves you closer to him, trying to cover his face from them and their laugh with your body.
"You guys are impossible." you laugh as you slightly push him away, being conscious of your post-show state.
"I gotta take a shower, let's meet in 15 to have dinner." everyone agrees and Chris stays with them as you leave to your dressing room. You bid your thank yous and goodbyes to the people who pass with your free hand.
Once you are in your changing room, you ignore your surroundings to take a quick shower. You change into comfortable clothes and shoes, leaving your hair down for it to dry. You wash your face to take off the remaining makeup and spray perfume on you. You grab your phone on your way out. It's flooding with notifications from your fans on Twitter. It's Chris' reaction to your performance tonight.
You have a big smile as you rejoin everyone, thinking how after so many nights spent on your own, dancing on your own, crying over someone that didn't deserve it, thinking you would die without someone loving you back as much as you love them, you found Chris. His deep blue shiny eyes full of love and gentle caring smile changed everything for the better.
My Masterlist
Wanna join my taglist? Drop me an ask here (specifying the taglist) <3
taglist: @lharrietg ✧ @chesca-791 ✧ @justamarvelfan14 ✧ @marajillana ✧ @goldenrogers ✧ @sunwardsss ✧ @kaatelyyynn ✧ @high-on-darren-criss ✧ @chamorritaluv ✧ @justreadingficsdontmindme ✧ @barneskills ✧ @bval-1 ✧ @megatron07 ✧ @madisondelstan ✧ @moonshooter ✧ @nostxlgia18 ✧ @sophiaedits ✧ @mrsevansthefirst ✧ @fanficforfun ✧ @0mrs-evans0 ✧ @jassy2101 ✧ @stephv213 ✧ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 ✧ @gitasor ✧ @lovelyleanie ✧ @food8me ✧ @patzammit ✧ @angelmather1 ✧ @sarahdonald87 ✧ @khaleesibeach ✧ @stillmanicc ✧ @bageracat ✧ @mayafatmakhan ✧ @wydtrina ✧ @iconfusemyselfalot ✧ @sleutherclaw
#lucero writes#chris evans x reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans fluff#chris evans blurb#chris evans fanfic#chris evans x singer!reader#chris evans x famous!reader#Chris Evans x lipa!reader#chris evans oneshot#chris evans x female!reader#chris evans imagines
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placements of most of mellanoid slime worm OCs that i'm aware of on this chart.
I don't think this was the most effective way to measure slime morphology at least among my OCs (nevermind that, because i'm a lesbian and also a little boring, veeeerrry many of these characters are competing for space in the Girl spot)
For one thing, I wish i had an axis that could make humanoids Weird (like "oh no" weird) without making them pass through a simpler shape at the origin. For another thing, my mellanoid slimes are agender by default, so "girl" would be an offensive descriptor to most of them (and the ones that ARE girls might be offended at me putting them lower on the girl-ohno axis even though, for example, Slamtha (yellow w/ three eyes) is exactly as much of a girl as Guz (green girl, yellow shirt), but Guz's two humanoid parents of three (orange and cyan heads right next to each other) are agender but rank higher. (The red snake-worm is her third parent), and Twizzle Bajeeziz (red face, fuzzy soapy beard) is a boy and not a girl. (Though a part of that is just because i couldn't get every character in their spot and still be a legible character image--probably Slamtha should be higher up and the parents lower down)
I also had to interpret "cube" as "geometric/angular." Slamtha's features are more angular than Guz so she's more cube than her. Though there is of course an actual cube slime there.
The purple slimes are mostly @raydrawsdaly's. The purple monster and whale are both Nexus, as is the kinda pissed off six-eyed woman in the girl section, and the more confused one to the upper left of her. The tiny figures in front of the confused one are Nexus' parent Oghu and sibling Oihre. The sketch of the more feminine one (there's a mermaid tail hidden somewhere in there also) is an alt universe version of Nexus called Utut, who did not become an evil space goddex and instead became like a more or less normal starfleet scientist--but they have the same headmates and thus alternate presentations as Nexus does.
The blue one to the right of Guz is T'oumii Ela'as by James @uss-feynman and is a he/any butch.
The indigo one in the "glob" section is Laqus T. Raen by @uss-sonder and is agender.
Directly below them is James' doodle of a friend of T'oumii's.
The blue and purple ones that are CGI renders are Murf, from Star Trek: Prodigy, the sole example of a canon mellanoid slime worm.
The orange and cyan one is Shmoorp Gacklgleb by @msasterisk.
The silver one in the mess of girls is Visca Limax, character of @something-boring. Another woman that should be higher on the girl mess, like Slamtha, but who has slightly weird anatomy (extra arm, prehensile hair) so has to place lower to indicate that.
Basically i think it's a lot easier to interpret my version of the chart if instead of "girl" it's "humanoid," and we take the actual gender out of the equation... and also if you basically collapse almost everything in the girlmess into a single point. The more I look at the chart the more I'm questioning my decisions--like, Nexus/Utut's design is more detailed than Guz's, so does that mean that they should swap positions on the X axis? Maybe I only ranked Guz closer to the middle because she's my favorite character and I'm biased--but if I keep nitpicking my own chart I'll be up all night.
Despite the weirdness, this was still helpful because it gives me a general idea of what kinds of character designs remain to be done. There's some wide open gaps that are rife with potential character creation.
having a discussion ab slime gender presentation i will return with my findings soon
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Sorrow shared...
... is a sorrow halved.
They're the hands of a killer and the hands of a healer. For some they offer aid, and others only pain.
Here, now, confronted with a vampire gargling extra-strength mouthwash and scrubbing his skin raw... here, now, they're gentle, same as his voice, catching Shepard by the wrist and guiding him away from the sink, sitting him down on the floor.
Talk to me, Kaidan says without uttering a word, settling cross-legged opposite him. Tell me what's wrong. What could possibly rattle a vampire so?
Waiting out said vampire's stubborn avoidance of an issue is no easy feat, an exercise in patience that has Kaidan watching him comb fingers through the length of his hair and braid it back, only to tease it out and start again no less than five times. Three times he intercepts Shepard on his return to the sink with a well-timed barrier and raised brow. And twice he kicks out a leg and taps toes with him, just to draw his attention away from his fingers. But Kaidan's eventually rewarded, no sign of Chakwas giving up and demanding custody of her medbay back, and Shepard breaks the silence between them with a sigh, loud and sudden, fixing him with a glower that'd be more convincing if it actually remained on him.
"You're not gonna let this one go, are you?"
"Nope. Whatever that was back there? Seemed pretty intense."
"That's one way of putting it," Shepard replies, a grumble he directs at the ceiling.
"If you don't wanna talk about it —"
"Do you know how vampires are made, Alenko?" That shuts him up quick, sits him up straighter. No. No, he doesn't. He knows shockingly little about them considering he's supposed to oversee the life, and potential death, of one.
"I don't, no."
Shepard snorts. "Of course you don't. That'd require they pass on accurate intel. So there's the part everyone and their granny knows — you die. But after that..." back at his hair again, gaze growing distant. "After that the memory goes fuzzy. Understandable, I suppose, given your death, but. Well. Some small part of your brain knows."
His tone... "Did the, uh, mind-meld with Liara knock something loose?"
Silence.
"Look, if you need time to process it —"
"I wasn't the only survivor, Alenko."
"On Akuze?"
"Mn. There was another —" was "— Strutten. You know I can't even picture his face? His eyes? Whether he had a beard or not? But he was screaming. And bleeding."
"Did you kill him?"
"I... think I did? I remember... well," Shepard lifts his hand to his mouth, gestures to it and the fangs just out of sight, "I remember. We need blood to complete the change, so I've been told. Figures death'll come collect one way or another if you cheat."
Shepard's biotic settles then, as if every word spoken has gradually decreased the strain on elastic pulled far too tight, from a roiling mass of icicles stabbing at Kaidan's awareness every second to a smooth expanse of ice he'd be able to skate on, were it real. But there's something off about it, something... forced. Like someone knuckling down and bracing for bad news, terrible news, black suits knocking on the door and saying we're so sorry for your loss. His hands have gone still in his lap, no yarn to fidget with, no dark energy rolling over his knuckles instead of an old-fashioned coin, no fingers twisting or tapping together.
So at odds with the standoffish, in your face approach he'd normally default to.
Then again, letting an asari dumpster dive through the overcooked pasta bowl his brain's been smushed into by alien technology? Probably also not normal.
In for a credit...
Kaidan thunks his head back against the cabinet, closes his eyes against the overhead light dimmed low on account of Shepard's heightened sight, and goes picking at wounds he'd cauterised years ago. "If I told you I'd killed someone, would you judge me for it?"
"No?"
"And if I told you I didn't have orders to do so, would you report me for it?"
"Alenko —"
He ploughs on ahead. "And if I told you I'm the reason BAaT was shut down, that I killed the instructor in self-defense when he pulled a knife on me, right in my face, would you see reason to treat me as an unstable biotic to be locked up and forgotten about?"
Shepard doesn't answer, but it's clear in the horror on his face when Kaidan cracks an eye open to glance at him. Why would I? Kaidan doesn't tap toes with him this time so much as actually kick his foot, and Shepard reacts with a tingle of dark energy shoving him in the shoulder.
"You wouldn't, would you?"
"No. I — Alenko you were a kid."
"And you'd just been attacked and turned by a vampire."
"It's not the same."
"Maybe not entirely, no, but it's not far off where it counts, either. I didn't die, but we both wanted to survive. We can't hide what we are under scrutiny, but we try to blend in all the same. And flashbacks, no matter the cause, be it trigger or nightmare or alien meddling, are no fun for either of us."
~
He approaches Liara later, after hiding the mouthwash and soap and tying Shepard's hair back in a bun for him to give his hands an excuse to fixate on literally anything else, to suggest a block on any further mind-melds. A suggestion she's quick to agree to, shaken in her own right, fingers to her pulse as if to monitor it, eyes still wide and stricken from whatever she witnessed in Shepard's head.
"He can hear every heartbeat on this ship when he's in range, Lieutenant. It's a torment, a... a temptation, he subjects himself to daily. I don't think... I don't think he meant for me to see that."
There's a lot you weren't meant to see, he thinks, biting down on it much like he does his tongue. "Did you learn anything about the vision implanted in his brain?"
"No. I — I was not... prepared for how loud his... nature would be. It was... most distracting."
And disturbing, had she witnessed the memory unearthed during the meld, taken a front-row seat to instinct's demand to survive by any means necessary.
A meld neither of them can afford to repeat. Damn.
~
You're not a monster, Shepard.
Neither are you, Alenko.
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Can you do a soulmate Stucky x reader? I feel like you would write that so well, especially how you portrayed bucky in "are you mad at me" was so soft. The soulmate version would be so cute
Summary || Bucky and Steve meet their soulmate, which they had no idea existed.
Warning/content || fluff, a small explicit scene, fighting. Soulmate AU.
Paring || Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve rogers
I got a little carried away, but enjoy ❤️ not edited or beta read but I'm sleepy 😴
Bucky and Steve have had each other from the moment they have met. Imaging their surprise, being two little boys from Brooklyn seeing colors, something the two agreed to hide, pending the time period.
It was different now, a different time. They were accepted and while both of them loved each other, so very much, especially through the mind control, fighting each other, then for each other. They always knew something was missing.
A color, maybe even two, three. A part of them missing but they both collectively came to the conclusion that it was just that. Some missing colors, it happens sometimes.
It happens when they least expect it.
After Thanos, after Tony finally deciding to leave that kind of life behind, buying a small two bedroom house on the outskirts of the city. A home to grow old in, be together for the first time since before the war started but only one thing prevented that.
The house was a disaster, gutted to the foundations, no running water, green moss outside covered the whole house, the lawn completely out of control. For Bucky it was a hard no, it was a dump but the moment Steve fluttered those ridiculously long lashes, how could he say no?
So here they are, sweating on this 90 degree day, putting up new dry wall with no air-conditioning.
"What color should it be?" Steve asks, glancing to his dark haired lover, taking notice of his now shirtless appearance. Bucky let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Maybe we should get all of the walls up first."
Steve clicks his tongue, "I like the color green, like a nice pastel mint green."
"Whatever you want, honey." Bucky wasn't too picky, besides whatever made Steve happy, made him happy.
"Hello?" A sweet, feminine voice came from the kitchen. The doors left open because of the heat, there was nothing much in here anyways.
Steve pulls away from his task, pulling his shirt over his head to wipe his forehead with it. "Come in, we are in the kitchen."
Bucky wasn't too alarmed, Steve had told him previously that he hired a someone to make up the yard, nothing too fancy but the both of them were completely clueless when it came to plants, or gardens period.
"Quite a project you have going on here, Mr. Rogers." No doubt taking in the half gutted house along the way. While they have never met, they spoke on the phone briefly about his wants.
"You have no idea, Hun."
The woman looks around the kitchen first, noticing the freshly painted cabinet, the smell a dead giveaway, half eaten burgers thrown to the side on a small, make shift table with barely enough room to fit.
At first glance towards the man she notices the sharp jawline, defined but soft feature of the blonde as she greets him with a smile which soon drops in confusion as small dots of color appear. Stormy blue eyes with a full beard, Steve's mouth dropping agape as he notices the splirts of color - the missing colors for 106 years finally appear.
Bucky notices the tension in the room, shifting his attention from the wall to Steve, noticing how intensely he's staring, Bucky follows the line of vision and meets sweet eyes.
She's hit with another line of color, different from Steve's but now there's no more gray hue, bright yellows and blues. The outside is suddenly so bright and Bucky mouth drops.
This cannot be happening.
They sit there and stare for what seems like hours.
"I - ugh.." she starts, "What is happening?"
***
Sometimes life just throws curve balls, like finding out that your soulmate or in this cause soulmates are two, one hundred year old super soldiers who have already been in love with each other for over a decade.
The pull is already strong, nature intended for these souls to be together until death due part and honestly Bucky could feel it. With Steve he was used to the urge of wanting to have him close, kiss him every free minute he has but with the woman in front of him, it's new.
He doesn't even know her name, watches the way she nervously flickers from Steve's gaze to his own. She's beautiful.
Strong but delicate features, the curve of her nose is cute, cupid lips are so full... kissable. He can't stop staring, even with Steve and her in the mist of conversation. The make shift table cleared of all prior mess, Buck and Steve have to share a chair, which is quite comical, seeing two giant supersoldier try to share a small, old, dinning room seat.
Bucky's metal fingers twitch, metal plate click and whirl to life as he tights to urge to map her face out with his fingers. His heart is beating so fast, filled with so much... Love? Joy?
No matter how much Steve and Bucky try to hide it.. deep down they always knew, something was missing and in this case, someone.
"You're beautiful." The words catch both her and Steve off guard, Bucky blushes red something terrible but the sweet smile defuses the fire.
Well until she says something back, "You are too."
His whole face is hot and Steve reaches over to affectionately rub the back of his shoulder. Of course Steve was calm, he always is.
He handles things with lots of thought and understanding, while Buck is more hot headed, acts on the moment.
***
"It doesn't feel right." Bucky comments, watching from the window to insure she safely gets into the car. Steve sighs, by the time they're done talking darkness has filled the house. Steve affectionately squeezes the brunette's bicep, pressing a kiss to his hair.
"I know Bucky. This is a lot for her, for us. She needs to take time and reflect on this. She'll come to us when she's ready."
Bucky knows nothing then her name, and love for plants but chews at his bottom lip nervously. She's too far, the bond pulls at his heart strings. Now bonded forever. "What if she never comes back?"
"She will."
***
A few days pass, the kitchen is finally done, new appliances, new china and kitchen fully stocked. Steve is making something for Dinner - it smells amazing while Bucky starts painting the walls of the lifeless living room.
It's bare, not even something to sit on but no doubt with the stamina of two super soldiers it will be done by next week.
The knock on the front door is unexpected, but Bucky replies quickly. "I got it, Stevie!"
He expects some older, much wrinkly neighbor to be complaining about the noise of the nail gone or something this late at night. His mouth drops, a little shocked at the sight of her.
A very formal sitting dress, long and black, dips into a sweetheart neckline, the valley of her breasts easily visible. Hair is thrown into a neat updo, sexy and sleek.
Bucky clears his throat. "Hi." He squeaks out, feeling like a total idiot as he watches her nervously shift her weight from one heel to the other.
"Hi, I was in the area. A wedding for one my clients, thought I'd come say hello." Bucky wants to shake his head in disbelief that something so beautiful, just like Steve is made for him.
The universe sculpted and made two beautiful, breath taking human beings to be his and it's overwhelming. She's so pretty it's alarming.
It was a good excuse, the truth but not the real reason she stopped by. How could she tell them that they have been on her mind none stop? It physically hurts to be away for so long.
"Who is it, Buck?" Steve mumbles, interrupting the thick tension between the two.
"Come in, doll." Bucky's helps her with the jacket that lays over his shoulders, mentioning his head towards the direction of the kitchen, where his other lover is.
Steve is stunned none the less, he at least expected a few more days. Also, feeling much like Bucky, amazed by the radiating beauty.
He decides to play it cool, dimples forming with a breath taking smile. "Do you like spaghetti?"
Hours pass, time moves so fast with conversation, and adding wine to the mix surely didn't help.
The trio once again in the kitchen, but this time each have a chair, a new, more comfortable dinning set.
"You got this done fast. It's beautiful." She comments, "Colors are beautiful, I guess I have you two to thank for that."
Bucky shifts in his seat, the glass of wine is useless but still finds himself sipping from it. Her eyes are red, watery with a slight buzz.
"Do you feel it?" The question has both Bucky and Steve look at each other, watching her teary eyes as she presses a hand to sooth the ache in her chest. "It hurts, it hurts to be away. All week."
"It's normal." Steve answers just above a whisper, his next words make Bucky's bottom lip quiver. "I felt it every day for the last 5 years, Bucky was gone."
Bucky had never thought about it - there hasn't been enough time to. It's only been a month later since the return and it never occurred to him what Steve has gone through.
"Steve.." He starts, tears kiss his waterline as his fingers run through the blonde's hair. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't know, I -."
"Couldn't prevent it Buck. It happened but you're here now and.." Steve turns his attention towards the girl, tears slip past her eyelids. It's for Steve, for Bucky.. all the pain and suffering they've been through. "Hey, don't cry, it's alright beautiful."
It's feels right, despite barely knowing the man, nothing feel more right then being pulled into his chest as a large metal hand comforts her in a different way, rubbing the loose strands of hair as he murmurs. "We've got you now, you're our other half."
***
Months have past from that day. The house is finally done, everything they could have imagined with the additional of an extra tooth brush in the cup that sits on the bathroom sink, a pile of fuzzy blankets at the bottom of the bed and a five year old chocolate lab. Steve didn't mind much, he's always loved dogs, Bucky on the other hand...
"Alright, alright, Maverick." Bucky huffs, grocery bags in hand as the dog excitedly nuzzles his legs, following him throughout the house like it wasn't only an hour ago he's seen him. Once putting the bags down, hears the whine, big brown eyes staring up at him. Bucky sighs, dropping to a knee before petting the pup's head. "Alright you mutt, don't tell anyone about this."
"Too late, pal." Bucky jumps, hearing the amusement in Steve's voice, followed by the giggle of the woman that peers out from behind him. Wrapping her arms around Steve before testing her head against his shoulder.
"Caught you red handed, you love Mav." Bucky grumbles at her words, feeling two smaller hands wrap around his waist as a head falls into his chest. He presses a soft kiss into her hair before taking in the blonde that barely fits through the doorway he leans against.
Bucky's free hand reaches out, mentioning him closer but as she's soon finds herself in the middle of a super soldier sandwich. "Hi, baby." Bucky presses a kiss to the blonde's lips.
"Hi, pal."
***
"It's only one mission. That's it, we will be in and out." Steve promises, not liking the way his girls face twist into a worried expression.
Heavy eyes, lower lip sticking out to pout. "What if something happens? If you get hurt? Or if they find you, Bucky?"
"I told you, Hydra is gone, honey." Bucky's large hands sooth over her tight shoulders, pressing soft kisses to the back of her upper traps.
"No. You still have nightmares at least three times a week. This can't be good for you. And you." She turns her attention back towards Steve, "Barely sleep four hours a night. You carry the fault on your shoulders, you don't need anymore. I don't want you two to go."
"We don't have a choice. They were my family once, I owe this to them." Steve didn't miss the way her lips moves to form a snarl, not sparing another glance as she makes a b-line for the stairs.
Bucky sighs, leaning against the wall. "She's going to be mad at us." Rubbing his chest with hopes to ease the burn.
The bond pulls at their hearts, a slow, painful punishment for their actions.
They return two weeks later, tired, just wanting to see their girl. The moment they walk into the house they look at each other with will wild eyes, heart pumping as they fear the worse. The dog, the annoying wiggling tail that would bark is one where to be found, something is wrong.
It's alarming. "Where is that freaking mutt?"
Steve calls her name, but there is no answer. Bucky and him are searching the house, ascending the stairs, opening the bedroom door with a deep sigh of relief.
The stupid dog takes up half of the bed, but is cuddled into his owner. Arm draped around the ball of fur, amount as long as her.
The dog lifts his head, a little tail waggle as Steve stretches his ears, lowering to his knees and laying his top half over the bed to press loud, audible kisses to his ears. "Good boy, protecting our girl while we are gone."
When morning comes she notices the dog is still pressed against her, licking small stripes against her cheeks. "Have to go out, buddy?"
She barely makes it five steps before tripping over two rather large bodies, sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor. Bucky groans and Steve's eyes flicker open.
"Why are you on the floor?"
"Wanted you to sleep pretty girl. Mav was taking up all the room and you looked like an angel." Bucky hums in agreement despite his eyes being closed.
"Mmm, well it's all free now." It's short, simple but the sarcastic tone has Bucky's eyes flickering to meet his boyfriend's. They both sigh, staring up at the ceiling, knowing it's going to be a long day.
And it is. She's does whatever she can to get away from them, only answers with short replies to the point Bucky can't take it anymore.
"Sweetheart," Bucky tries again but she doesn't acknowledge him, eyes stayed glued to the book. He gets fed up, metal plates click as artificial appendages run over the binding and pull it from her grasp.
"Give it back, James."
He cringes at the name, a displeased frown wears his face. "No, you have to talk to us."
"No."
"You're bring a brat." Bucky starts, watching her expression change from annoyed to anger, wrinkles of frustration pinch between her eyebrows.
"Buck - don't say that to her." Steve comments, it's his fault, he's the one who said yes without confiding in her first.
"She is, it's over with now. She has no right to be this mad."
"No right?" Her chest fills with emotion as a humourless chuckle causes both men to stiffen. "No right? Huh Buck? I sat here for two full weeks, no communication, nothing while the two of you are out there fighting God knows what after you swore, promised you would always be with me. Don't promise me forever if you're just going to throw yourself in danger! You're going to die and leave me, or worse! Both of you will."
No one says a word, only watch as her chest rises and falls with deep, heavy pants despite the tears that rolls past her eyes lashes.
"Honey, I'm sorry -."
"I don't want to hear it James, and you." She turns towards Steve, fire in her soul. "I thought you would understand, more then him, considering it has happened to you."
She leaves the room without another word, Buck turns towards Steve, watching the way he fights the tears that gather. The pain of loosing Bucky is still so fresh, "She's right Buck, we fucked up."
"I know, I know." He mumbles into Steve's shoulder, pulling him close.
***
"You're so good to me, sweet girl." Bucky moans as she shifts her hips against him, the blunt end of his cock hitting the spot inside her that makes her squeal for more.
Large hands squeeze her hips as Steve leans over to find his boyfriend's lips, kissing him through the gasps and whines of their girl's name as she circles her hips around Bucky.
Steve's hands pull at his hair, lips trailing from his lips, down his cheeks before nipping at his jaw.
"How does he feel honey?"
"So good, Stevie." For a second he's in a trance, watching the way her face contours with pleasure and the pain of her third orgasm well on its way.
Steve lays next to Buck, hand wrapping around his own heaviness between his legs as he stokes it, switching between her face of pleasure to Bucky's, who bites his lip to suppress a moan.
It's short lived as hips stutter against her own, coating her walls with his warm cum.
Steve barely gives her time to recover, positioning her on his hands and knees before hovering over her ear and nibbling on it. "My turn, honey."
***
Her hands nervously shake, the kitchen table is all set up, dinner is ready but at the moment she doesn't have an appetite.
Between this morning sickness, the overall change her body is under going, food makes her sick. The opening of the front door makes her sit up straight, sucking in a deep breath.
Two voices conversationing in the hall, "I thought I said for you to lock the door when we leave." Buck is clearly annoyed, it's been a long day but Steve rubs his shoulders, mumbling something incoherent.
Upon entering the kitchen, they both grow worried. Face drained of color, red blotchy eyes with shaky hands.
"Hey, hey." Steve drops to his knees in front of her seat in an instant, hands curling around her wrist as worried steel blue eyes follow his stance, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "What is it? What happened?"
"I'm pregnant." She pauses, "I'm scared, I'm scared. What if someone comes for you? How are we supposed to raise a baby? What if it has the serum, will it ever be safe?"
The questions fill Bucky with dread, how much though put into every sentence, every word is like a new hit of pain to his body but he stays strong. For his girl, he leans forward, wiping the tears away from discolored cheeks. "Everything is going to be fine babydoll, you're going to be fine, our baby is going to be fine."
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