I Could Cry Bc This Is So Beautiful And SO Accurate

i just love love @earth2bucky’s writing 😭😭

it’s so beautiful and i was always find myself binge reading her masterlist.

angel - bucky x reader

a/n: lisTEN im working on three requests rn and i needed a break so this is the result

word count: <1k

summary: bucky coming to terms with just how much he loves needs you (also ur first kiss aw !!!)

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i love him, your honour 🤭🤭

omg @literaila you never fail to describe this man so well!!

i know you 

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary: 

“i’m peter.”

“and?”

“i wanted to introduce myself.”

“i know who you are, peter.”

warnings: college party, mentions of biology, peter is a bit of.. a… so-so, um, embarrassment 

*

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valkyrie is hot 😍😍

the way you set the scene + the feelings they provoke 🤭🤭

your beauty never ever scared me

ship: vampire!valkyrie x reader

summary/request: a cozy night in with your wife. sequel to your little heart goes pitter-patter

word count: 1k

warnings: smut (18+), vaginal fingering (reader receiving), alcohol consumption, bloodsucking, soft vampire wife

masterlist | monsterfucker celebration 2022 masterlist

The dancing of flames in the fireplace casts shifting shadows throughout the library. They flicker across Valkyrie’s skin, illuminating her face in an orange hue. She notices you staring at her. She always does. 

“I know you can’t take a picture, but my portrait is upstairs,” she grins. “It’ll last longer.”

“What’s the fun in that?" 

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"can i kiss you?" vi asks, close enough that her lips are a mere inch away from yours. the scent of alcohol hits your nose, hitting you with a little piece of reality that nearly winds you.

you swallow, looking at vi through your lashes, and try not to fall into this trap. because that's what this is; a trap geared towards your downfall.

but vi's staring at you, her gaze so sweet with how disarming her puppy dog eyes are. it breaks you down from the inside and deconstructs you until you're only pieces of yourself. but you have to hold it together because you can't do this; you can't be involved in this.

"vi," you murmur, moving back a little so you can breathe. "you can't. it won't—it's not fair."

"...i know," vi whispers, after a brief moment, and closes her eyes. then she's closing the gap between you two, but only so she can rest her forehead against yours. "i know."

tears burn behind your eyes and sit tight in your throat, your hands curled into fists at your sides.

but you say nothing and simply allow both of you to exist in whatever piece of time this is.

love love love it so far 😍🫶🏽

serendipity

series masterlist  |  main masterlist | ask box  |  taglist

pairing: photographer!peter parker x photographer!reader

warnings: explicit language, mentions of drinking, clowning business majors

summary: you’re an upcoming photographer in search of experience, and peter happens to need assistance. by a stroke of luck, he takes you on.

a/n: i know y’all love the smaus and i do too so i really hope you enjoy! make sure to read the character intros if you haven’t already <3

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so sexy

drummer!steve rogers’ instagram.

commissions :)

devil!nat goes crazy 😫😋

she’ll want the devil on her team - natasha romanoff

Summary: what’s an angel doing at a nightclub?

Warnings: supernatural beings, bottom!nat, alcohol consumption, oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), mommy kink, strap on use (nat receiving), smut 18+ only

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: and here’s the end of kinktober, it’s not much but it’s honest work. hope you guys enjoyed it <3

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

masterlist | kinktober masterlist

The room spun around you as you walked through the crowded space. Lights flashed all around you and the music was so loud it shook you to your bones. You were tiptoeing on the line between fun and over-stimulation, enjoying the sweet spot between wanting to go home and being too overwhelmed to do anything. You were having fun. 

It was after you lost your friends that you saw her. You’d drifted away from them while you were dancing, getting caught up in the music. There was a light around her, and when you made eye contact, nothing could explain the attraction you felt towards her. Not just to the way she looked, but you felt like there was something pulling you right from your core.

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pls the way i smiled whilst reading this 🥺😫

and the way it’s written!!

so good <3

Sleepy kisses in the morning with Bucky plsssss 🥰🥰🥰

sleepy

bucky x f!reader

wc: drabble! 665

a/n: why are drabbles so fun!!! reminding me i'm so alone lmao

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

Bucky has always been an early riser. Always.

It's ingrained in his bones– wake when the sun does, sometimes, rest when the sun does.

Until you, he never knew time could be a friend. Not someone to fear constantly looming over his shoulder. The sun wasn’t as cruel as he once revered it, his bones can breathe. Bucky sleeps now– sometimes, later than you. The sun be damned.

Watching him sleep was one of life’s little heavens. The once labored breaths that carried him through so much torment eased, gently warming the insides of his lungs and exhaling to tickle the skin of your neck. His eyelashes twitched faintly, caressing the flush of his high cheekbones as if the sunlight filtering through the curtains was made for him.

And those lips– perfectly pouted, pink, plump, precious– taunted you so cruelly. The sun teasing his skin peeking out of the sheets was always followed promptly by the pads of your fingers trailing his body. Now is no exception, dusting along the black and gold garnishing his bicep, ghosting over relaxed pecs. Your hand travels, tracing along the stubble of his jaw, feather-soft up to outline his mouth.

There is hardly a sight prettier than your sleeping super soldier coming alive at the delicate exploring of your fingertips. As much as you love him in the bliss of his slumber, it was torture knowing what a slowly rousing Bucky meant.

It isn’t until your lips meet the warm skin of his throat that he surrenders to the promises lingering in the morning air.

The black of his fingers slowly spread up your arm, goosebumps and a shiver answering his touch.

“Fivemo’minutes,” he grumbles. His eyes remain closed, but his body trembles in lieu of a slow-moving stretch, wrapping himself tighter around you and bringing your wandering hand to his lips.

Faint teases of the pillows of his lips pepper up your arm. “Jus’five, baby,” he mumbles dancing across your jaw, “w-wanna,” moving to the swell of your bottom lip, “...needa sleep,” he exhales against the corner of your slowly spreading smile, a low whine pressed one, two, three times, needily slanting his eager lips to yours.

You giggle against his mouth, hands carding gently through his short locks and scratching along his scalp, holding him close.

“Mmm. Don’t do tha– s’not fair, m’tryin to sleep baby,” time has also shown him: he’s a really terrible liar.

His body melts against you, sandalwood and warmth overwhelming your senses, his lips showing no sign of ever wanting to be anywhere else, doing anything else but tasting the beauty of another morning with his girl.

You pull away, much to his displeasure, a low moan echoing pitifully within his chest. He reaches for you, lips chasing after your evil little smirk he’d be greeted with if he just opened his eyes. “Oh, okay. M’sorry. Go back to sleep, fivemo'minutes, Bucky.”

One cerulean eye shoots open, a scowl meant to intimidate you mocks your chastising remark. Your eyebrow quirks up, lips curled into a grin that lets him know just how bad of a liar he is. Bucky attacks with a growl against your shoulder, his thick, chorded body pushing you onto your back as giggles and squeals light the room.

“Y’can’t do this to me,” his lips continue, caress after caress greedily melding against your own. And his eyes are open– sleepy, but open. The sun greets him like it always does. Twinkling, heavenly against the blue truths of his honest eyes watching you bathe in his love. “It’s Saturday, supposed to do nothin’ but sleep with my girl between my sheets,” his lips stop for a moment, sleep-ridden cheeks jutting out while smiling down so adoringly at you. Never stop. Thank you. Couldn’t want somethin' any more, five minutes is never enough.

Your fingers tangle within the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him close. Your lips meet his. His eyes flutter closed. A relieved groan leaves his body.

The sun watches.

GOOD OLD STEVE ☺️🤭😫

earpiece

steve rogers x gn!reader (fluff)

summary: you're undercover.

warnings: brief mentions of drinking

a/n: i'll stop writing about jealous!steve when it stops being my favorite thing ever

“do you have to look at him like that?”

“oh my god," you exclaim—all feigned enthusiasm meant to flatter the target. tilting your head, you wonder if there's a way to press the mute button on your earpiece discreetly enough. “i’ve never been there, what’s it like?”

“what? sweetheart, we were there last month.”

wherever steve sits, monitoring this operation from afar, your sudden burst of laughter probably irks him.

the truth is, you didn't hear the response from the man in front of you; steve's hasty interjection drowned it out. it’s the urgency of his reminder, the childish call for your attention, that amuses you.

you want to tell him: you remember last month just fine.

it was your first real trip. not for work—no mission protocols weighing down your luggage or agents blowing up your phone. and not the kind of weekend-only jaunt where the driving alone eats up eight of your precious hours together. 

it was all sea salt breezes, the polar opposite to new york at this time of year. every sweet treat you spooned into steve’s sunny smile contained at least one tropical fruit, and you’re still finding sand in your shoes.

it was your first anniversary.

your thumb tucks into your palm, itching at your temporarily empty finger.

thankfully, the guy seems charmed, despite your ignorance to whatever he just said. “excuse me.” you stand and straighten your clothes. “i have to use the restroom.”

he nods. “want a drink? on me."

“you pick.” a flirty nudge of your hip earns you a grin.

once you’ve rounded the corner, you pretend to answer your phone. "rogers.”

“sweetheart,” he returns, all drawn out.

of course he would be so lax about this, jeopardizing your performance, your work. “do you want the location of this chitauri weapons operation or not?"

"i’m only—”

“yes or no?”

steve sighs, a gust of wind in your ear.

"good," you mutter, "so you're gonna shut up, and let me stroke this guy's ego until he gives me what we need, or i'm gonna mute your ass."

he sounds a little sad. "don't say it like that."

a moment of confusion. "what?"

"i don't want you stroking this guy's anything, okay?"

you don't know if you're out of steve's sight by now, or if he can see you smile. "you're such an asshole."

even with the tinny audio, steve's laughter still sounds warm. “i love you too.”

— — —

masterlist

😍😍