#marvel gifs
womenofmcu · 2 days
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I dream of them... every... night. Of my boys... of our life together. 
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w4dows · 3 days
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thinkin' about jealous! natasha
natasha romanoff x fem! reader
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natasha romanoff was either the most infuriating or oblivious person in the world.
you guys weren't official, by any means; hell, you guys hadn't even kissed. but it was common knowledge that you were natasha's, as she was yours.
the standoff-ish redhead had a soft spot for you & you only, and you took pride in that.
which is why when the redhead saw you getting flirted with during one of tony stark's parties, no less by some stupid agent that she trained, she was pissed - well "minorly ticked off."
she couldn't help but glower as she watched you take a seat at the bar, watching them flirt with you - or try to. she glared as they tried to woo you their rank and big muscles - "that really weren't that big," she thought bitterly, her jaw clenched, and her grip on her whiskey glass tightening. natasha smirked at the knowledge that her muscles were definitely bigger, and that she could definitely put on a better show than some low-ranking agent, especially for you.
her grip on her whiskey glass impossibly tightens, the auburn-gold liquor swishing around as she sees you laugh at a joke that idiot made; she was sure she could make you laugh much harder. so she does.
she walks over to the bar, downing the rest of her liquor, leaning over the bar, her body brushing against yours as she orders a refill, and you tense, the only thing you can focus on is her toned body against yours.
"oh hey sweetheart," she drawls, the nickname slipping off her tongue easily as she death-glares the agent - who very quickly gets the memo and slinks away.
"hey nat! this is-," you turn back to the other agent, and you see them sulking in the corner. you look back at natasha, and you can see a hint of smugness in her eyes - her stupid, beautiful, green eyes, and suddenly it all makes sense; natasha was jealous.
"you jealous?" you teased, unable to hide the grin at the thought of stone-cold natasha being jealous, being jealous over you
"oh please," she huffs before continuing, "why would i be jealous?"
"aw nat! you're so jealous!" you can't help but tease the aloof assassin, enjoying the way her face grimaces.
"i am not jealous." she mutters, scowling.
"for a spy, you sure are horrible at lying," you tease, your eyes sparkling with amusement, and affection that was purely for natsha. "y'know i'm yours right?" you murmur, cocking your head slight and enjoying the light pink that covered her cheeks and the tips of her ears.
"say it again," she rasps, and suddenly you can't remember how to form a coherent sentence, ridiculously aware of how close your lips are to hers - so close that you could feel the heat of her breath mingling with yours. your eyes flit down to her lips - her plump, perfect lips, tinged with faded lipstick - you couldn't help but wonder how soft they'd be against yours.
"i said, say it again, sweetheart," she all but purrs, and you're sure she can hear the thump-thump of your heart as you gulp. you bravely flick your eyes up towards her bewitching green eyes, and suddenly you've lost your breath again. you can see a glint of amusement in her eyes as she roams her eyes over your face.
"said 'm yours natasha, all yours," you manage to get out, and you can see the way her lips quirk up. fuck it.
before she can open her mouth to make a witty quip, you press your lips onto hers.
they were somehow softer than you thought they'd be.
"i still can't believe you were jealous," you murmur, breathless from natasha's kisses, your lips slightly swollen and bruised.
"oh yeah?" she husks, and god do you love her voice
her lips latch onto your neck before she continues, "want me to show you just how jealous i can be, sweet thing?" 
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Deal » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Female Reader
Summary: You’re the new nurse for the Avengers and Bucky pretends to be hurt just to see you so you make a deal with him and agree to go on a date with him.
Warnings: Fluff, language, flirting, kissing, pet names
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.
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“What happened this time, Sergeant Barnes?” You asked as Bucky walked in your office.
“Nothing too extreme.” Bucky took a seat on the exam table. “During the mission, some dumbass thought it would be a good idea to try to stab me when I wasn’t looking.” He explains.
He took his shirt off, revealing the cut mark on his right shoulder. You walked over to him and examined it. You walked away for a moment to get the supplies you needed to stitch him up.
“You need to learn how to be more careful during missions, Sergeant.” You say, setting everything up.
“I’ve been doing this for a long time, doll. I know what I’m doing.” He says.
“I know you do.” Your voice is soft. “Now be a good boy and lay back for me.” You say with a smile.
“Yes ma’am.” Bucky says flirtatiously as he laid back on the exam table.
You numbed his shoulder and began stitching him up. You were so focused on stitching him up that you didn’t know he was staring at you. Actually, he was admiring your beauty.
“You’re staring.” You say, not taking your eyes off of his shoulder.
“I’m not staring. I’m simply admiring your beauty.” He says softly.
You couldn’t help but blush. Bucky will do anything to see you and flirt with you. That’s why he’s in your office most of the time. He’ll pretend to be hurt just to see you. You just go along with it. Bucky has a crush on you and you have a crush on him.
“Go out with me.” Bucky says out of nowhere.
“What?” You asked, caught off guard.
“Go out with me.” He repeats.
“Bucky, I-I-” You didn’t know what you say so you just said the first thing that popped into your mind. “I’ll give you an answer when I’m done stitching up your shoulder.” You say.
You put your focus back on stitching up Bucky’s shoulder, but you could help but imagine what it would be like to go on a date with him. You smiled to yourself when an idea popped into your head.
“You’re all done.” You say, doing the last stitch.
Bucky looked down at his right shoulder, admiring the great work you did with the stitches as you cleaned up. You went to your desk and wrote down in his chart that you put stitches on his right shoulder.
“What’s your answer?” Bucky asks, hopping down from the exam table and put his shirt back on.
“I’ll go on a date with you on one condition.” You say, turning around to face him.
“Anything. What is it?” He asks.
“Try not to get hurt for a week. Deal?” You say.
“Deal.” He agrees. “Kiss on it?” He asks flirtatiously.
Bucky kissed you before you could say anything. He put his hands on your waist and pulled you against his body. Your hands found their way to his head, running your fingers through his long hair. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you breathless.
“That’s just a little preview of what’s to come for our date.” Bucky says softly.
You were speechless as you watched him walk out of your office.
The week has finally ended. It took everything in Bucky to not fake an injury. He was definitely looking forward to his date with you and so were you.
Bucky walked in your office just as you were finishing up work. He knocked on the open door to get your attention. You looked up from your desk and smiled when you seen him. You walked over to him and greeted him with a kiss on his lips.
“You went a week without getting hurt or faking an injury.” You smiled. “I’m proud of you.” You say, pecking his lips.
“I tried my best.” Bucky says with a smile.
You grabbed your things and closed your office door and walked hand in hand with Bucky.
“Does this mean you’re mine now?” He asks with a cheeky smile.
“We’re just now going on our first date and you’re already asking me to be your girlfriend.” You say with a small giggle.
“Well, what do you say, doll? Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks with a big smile on his face.
Instead of saying yes, you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips passionately.
“Does that answer your question, Sarge?” You asked softly.
“Mhmm.” Bucky hums with a smile, kissing you again.
-Bucky’s Doll
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fandomnerd9602 · 3 days
Wanda: (giggles) shut up!
Y/N: make me!
Wanda: okay but it might make you moan a little
Wanda grabs Y/N and leads them somewhere more secluded…
Steve: guys we’re in the middle of a- never mind.
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For @lifespectator
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redwing4life · 11 hours
Home Cooked Meal
can be read as a stand alone :)
PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!
SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.
WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)
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Call me when you get home x
Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.
It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.
Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.
He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.
You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.
“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.
“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”
The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.
Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.
“What are you doing right now?”
Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“
“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”
“What, now? What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”
And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.
Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.
Even Alps is confused.
Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.
Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.
He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.
She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.
With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.
Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.
Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.
He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.
Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.
It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.
Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.
“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.
“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.
“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”
Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.
Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.
When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.
“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.
Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.
“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.
“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”
You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“
Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.
“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”
Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.
“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.
The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.
“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“
“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.
Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.
“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.
“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”
If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.
Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”
You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”
With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.
Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.
“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.
He notices.
“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”
Fuck. Me.
You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.
“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.
You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.
Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.
“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.
You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.
“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”
Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.
With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.
Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.
“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.
“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”
“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”
You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.
Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.
It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.
Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.
Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.
Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.
“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.
“What are you trying to say there, doll?”
Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.
“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”
The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…
Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”
The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.
“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”
Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.
He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.
Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.
“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.
“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”
You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.
“You what?”
Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”
The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.
“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.
“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”
Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.
“James, what are you doing?” You ask.
“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.
Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.
From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.
It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.
“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?
The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.
“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.
“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”
A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.
“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.
In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”
You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”
With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.
Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.
“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.
You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”
He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”
Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.
Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.
“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.
That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.
Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.
“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.
A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.
“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.
Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”
“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.
“Teach me.”
“What?” You freeze.
“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”
You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.
Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.
It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.
With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.
Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.
From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.
It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.
The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.
“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.
When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.
You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”
A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”
You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.
Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.
Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.
He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.
It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.
“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”
“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.
It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.
“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.
“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.
Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.
“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.
“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.
Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.
A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.
Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.
Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.
“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.
“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.
Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”
Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.
You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.
Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.
“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”
Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”
“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“
With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.
“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.
“Why?” You ask, heart racing.
It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.
Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”
A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.
Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.
“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.
“Yeah? Is that what you want?”
Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.
“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.
Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”
That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.
Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.
You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.
Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.
“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”
“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.
“Then let me make up for lost time.”
“Wait, what do y-“
Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.
Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.
It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.
Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.
“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.
You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.
“I promise.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”
A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.
A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.
“Bucky, please…”
“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”
You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.
“Look at me, Y/n.”
The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.
“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”
The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.
Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.
He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.
“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.
“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”
You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.
Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.
“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”
“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”
“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”
Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.
The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.
“James- oh fuck-“
Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.
“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”
You mewl and squirm beneath him.
“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”
Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.
You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.
“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.
“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.
Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”
An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.
He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.
The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.
“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.
You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.
With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.
“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“
“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”
You nod feverishly.
“Good girl, now let go for me.”
That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.
“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.
“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.
Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.
“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”
You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”
“Every night, doll.”
Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.
“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.
“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.
You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.
After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”
What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.
He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.
His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.
“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.
“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”
You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.
“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”
Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.
“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”
“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.
“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”
You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.
“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”
Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.
“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.
He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”
You whine.
“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”
His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.
The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.
“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”
You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.
“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”
You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.
“I wanna see you, Bucky…”
He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.
You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.
“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.
Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.
He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.
“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”
Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.
You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.
Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.
“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”
You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.
“More than anything.”
And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.
You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.
“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.
“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”
You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.
“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.
He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.
“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”
His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.
You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.
Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.
Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.
“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.
“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.
You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.
With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.
As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.
“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“
You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.
“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”
“And that’s a problem because…?”
He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”
You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.
“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.
“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”
You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.
“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.
“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”
You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.
“How about now?”
There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.
“No!” You giggle.
“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.
“James! You’re squishing me!”
The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.
Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.
“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.
Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.
“I need you inside me.”
His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.
The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.
“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”
After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.
Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.
“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.
You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”
You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”
“So what?”
Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.
A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.
“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”
His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”
He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”
His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.
“Shit, honey, say it again.”
“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.
“Again.” Your neighbour growls.
“Oh my god, fuck- I”
It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”
“That’s my girl.”
Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.
“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”
You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.
“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”
“Harder, Jamie.”
“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”
You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.
“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”
“Ah- just like that, baby.”
“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”
Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.
“Jamie…” You sigh.
He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.
The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.
“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”
He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.
“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”
“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.
“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”
Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.
“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“
He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.
“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”
You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.
“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”
“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.
“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”
Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.
“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”
As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.
With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.
“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.
You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.
“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”
“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”
You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.
“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.
Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”
You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.
“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.
“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”
He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.
“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.
He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.
When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”
You smile, “Your shirt?”
“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“
He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.
Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.
“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.
“Of course, doll.”
Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”
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a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️
comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡
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Stuck with a God | Loki Laufeyson
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// Pairing // Loki Laufeyson x Agent!Female!Reader
// Summary // Loki gets imprisoned by Shield and he loves flirting with you. As much as he annoys you, even more does the Shield technology annoy you.
// Wordcount // 2.488
// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, smut, kind of enemies to lovers, being stuck with Loki, bit of dub-con, fingering, squirting, CMNF, finger sucking / cum eating kinda, bit of housewife kink, praises
// Authors Note // This is my first time writing for Loki, so thanks to my amazing friend @jiyascepter for encouraging me to write for him.
// Events // Slumber Party: Sundae Bar | French Vanilla (stranded, looked in) and Black Cherry (Enemies to lovers) | @the-slumberparty | Bingo of your own | N4 | Stuck together | @thebo3bingo |
// Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson //
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     “Darlin’! Didn’t think I would see you today,” the black-haired man says, his smirk growing as you walk closer to the cell he is in. “Want to see me again before they bring me into another cell, my dear?”
     You roll your eyes, earning a chuckle from the man. Since they brought him into the cell earlier that day, he flirts with you whenever you’re around. Or at least it’s what you think he is doing; maybe he just tries to convince you to let him out and let him rule the world — something you won’t do unless your boss will force you to.
     “Didn’t miss you; I just have to get something, and then I will be back doing my work,” you answer him, walking further through the room.
     Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief — at least what he said — walks up and down his cell, his green eyes following every little movement.
     “Oh, darling—“
     “Stop that flirting and let me do my job. You’re annoying, and I’m done with you, Loki,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief about that man.
     His lips are still curled up, and his eyes are glistening. As much as he annoys you, he has something that makes your knees weak — mystic and magical.
     “My dear, come here. Look at me when you tell me that you’re done with me. Are you done with me, darlin’, or do you only want everyone to think that?” His voice is low, his head falling forward, and he looks up, looking even more handsome than before.
     “No, don't even think that. You’re not that interesting to me,” you groan, frustrated that you’re stuck in that conversation. Too nice to just ignore him and too annoyed to continue talking to him.
     “Not interesting to you? I’m Loki — god of mischief — from Asgard! Everyone wants me. Oh, that sweet maid in Asgard — you should have seen her, darling. She begged me, but she wasn’t interesting to me,” Loki says, chuckling softly at your expression.
     How can he dare to tell you such an intimate story about one of the maids who is working for them? But to finally let him know that you’re not interested in his idiotic ass, you make your way closer to the entrance of the cell. Loki is grinning at you and walking in his cell to the entrance as well.
     When you reach it, he places his hand against the glass, waiting for you to tell him that you’re not interested in him. His green eyes remind you of a snake, staring into yours and glistening mischievously.
     “I’m not inter— How?” You almost shout at him when he is suddenly in front of you — without glass in between you. “FUCKING SHIT! How do— GO BACK INTO THE CELL!”
     Loki laughs softly, his white teeth visible. His tongue darts out, and he slides it across his plump lips before closing his mouth and leaning a bit further down.
     “Make me, darling. I’m a god; you think that little cell stops me from breaking out? How sweet,” he says in a teasing tone.
     You place your hands immediately on his chest, feeling the muscles tensing underneath your soft touch, before you push him back into the cell. Actually, you learned to not do things like that — never touch a criminal or get too close to him — they could use it to their advantage.
     A loud sound behind you makes you flinch, and you look around. The door behind you shuts, and your eyes widen when you realize that you’re stuck in a cell with the enemy. And not just one enemy; you’re stuck with Loki.
     “Stay away!” You grumble, letting go of him to take a step backwards and look for your card, which opens literally every door in a shield compound. You reach your card, finally able to get out of the cell again — you just need to find out how he managed to open the door and walk out of the cell.
     “Darling, don't you want to give me some company? That hurts my feelings; I thought you changed your mind and wanted to stay in that cell with me,” Loki says, his eyes still following every movement of yours while you walk to the door and press your card against the small display next to it.
     His lips curl up when the door doesn’t open. You try again, pressing the card against the display again. Once again, the door stays closed, and you groan frustrated — why can’t the technology work like it should?
     “Doesn’t work, darling? Do you need my help?” Loki asks, his tone teasing, and you roll your eyes once again. At some point, you’re sure you can roll your eyes all the time, but right now you’re just annoyed about the technology and him being such a dick.
     “I don’t need your help! Can you just shut up for a moment?” You ask through gritted teeth. You turn around, wanting to face the black-haired man, but the cell is empty, and you wonder if he broke out once again.
     You hiss and almost jump when you feel a warm breath against your neck. Long arms wrap around your waist, and a broad but small chest is suddenly pressed against your back. You can feel Loki’s nose sliding over the soft skin of your neck; a low chuckle leaves his lips when he pulls you even closer.
     A shiver runs down your spine; you want to lean more into his embrace. His warmth and scent envelope you. Loki feels just so good that you want more of him and more of his touches.
     “You like that, don’t you, darling?” He asks, his breath hitting your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. It shouldn’t feel so good; you shouldn’t stay in his embrace; he shouldn’t touch you like that — Loki is still the enemy, but the two of you look now like he isn’t just that; it looks like the two of you are so much closer.
     “L—Loki, let go of me. H—How did you escape here? Wh—“ You interrupt yourself when you feel his long fingers moving over your stomach, higher to your chest.
     “I didn’t escape, but I told you — I’m a god, darling. I never escaped here; you opened the door with your card; you pushed just an imagination of mine into the cell. And now that you’re here with me, stuck in this cell, don’t you think we should just continue where we stopped?” Loki asks, his voice quiet, and he presses his soft lips against your neck.
     You shake your head, even though you don’t feel like that. You just can’t be that close or intimate with the enemy. He grumbles behind you, pressing you even closer against his chest, and you can feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass.
     Your eyes widen, pussy throbbing, but you can’t just give in to him, can you? Loki is thrusting his hips forward, chuckling against you, when a soft moan escapes your lips.
     “You like that?” You nod lightly, his fingers gracing over the fabric of your t-shirt to your chest. Loki moves his hands over the swell of your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, and when you look down, your breath hitches.
     His hands are so big, thin, but long fingers — they cause the most filthy thoughts you ever had. You inhale deeply. A moment later, you think about pushing him away, telling him to stop that, and that there are cameras, but you know that they won’t work when the display to unlock the cell doesn’t work either.
     Loki feels you tensing in his arms; he kneads your soft breasts in his hands, causing you to throw your head back.
     “N—Loki, please,” you whine, feeling his hard cock still pressing against you. He thrusts his hips forward, making you squeal. His hands are squeezing your tits more.
     “Changing your attitude is exactly how I like it. What do you need, darling?” His tone is teasing. You nod your head, now knowing what to say. Loki laughs, suckling at your neck while his hands snake back to your waist. “Tell me, darlin’.”
     “L—Loki, please, n-need you,” you whimper. You feel so pathetic, begging the enemy to touch you, to fuck you. His hands and his lips feel like the softest thing you have ever felt, and you need him to continue touching you. You need to know how talented those fingers are.
     “Look at you, melting in the enemy's embrace, needing his fingers, don’t you?” He mocks you, laughing softly when he picks you up. He carries the two of you to the bench on the other end of the cell, sitting down before he places you in his lap.
     Loki’s hands hold you in place, his hard crotch pressing against your ass, and you wiggle lightly, earning a low groan from the man behind you. His fingers are digging into your sides, pressing you further down on him to keep you still.
     His lips trail along your neck once again, and he then smirks miraculously once again. And suddenly… you’re naked in his lap. Your clothes are nowhere around, and you can feel the leather of his suit underneath your sensitive skin.
     “Come on, spread those pretty legs for your favorite god, darling,” he grumbles, his fingers sliding along the inside of your thighs as he spreads your legs apart.
     Loki reveals your throbbing pussy; his left hand is holding your one leg, and he squeezes your thigh, while his other hand inches closer to where you need him the most.
     His long finger slides through your folds, and you moan softly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Loki circles your clit, pinching it lightly between his fingers before he moves his long fingers further down to your entrance.
     “So wet, ‘s that all for me, dalin’? Pussy’s drippin’ for me,” he says, kissing his way along your neck to your ear. His fingers coated in your arousal, he slowly pushes one finger into your entrance. You moan loudly, arching your back. Loki’s finger slips deeper into your tight pussy.
    “Doing so well; look at you, sweetheart. Taking my finger like you’re made for that, aren’t you?” Loki praises you, pushing deeper into you while curling his finger. He starts pumping it in and out of you, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.
     Your hands gripping his thighs, the cold leather feeling perfectly underneath your hot skin. And having him completely dressed while you’re naked turns you on beyond belief.
     Lokis circles your clit with his thumb, adding another finger to your cunt. Your breath gets heavier, you rock into his hand, and the coil in your stomach tightens with every moment of his long fingers inside of you.
     The black-haired man hits your sweet spot every time, the pads of his fingers sliding over it, causing an intense feeling to build up in your lower stomach. A feeling you never had before, not when you fucked yourself with a toy and never with another man.
     “Doing so well, darling. Squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait to fuck you, probably. Yeah, that’s what you like? Being fucked by a god, don’t you, darling?” Loki asks; his eyes darken lightly, but since you’re with your back toward him, you can’t see them.
     “P—Please, so close. LOKI!” You almost shout; you're just about to come all over his fingers. You don’t know how you ended up in that situation, but right now you can’t care about that. Everything you want and need is Loki, his fingers curling inside of you and bringing you closer to the edge.
     The sound of your wet pussy and his fingers pumping into you in a steady rhythm echoes through the cell. He speeds up, loving the way your walls cling around his fingers, sucking his thin, long fingers even deeper. “Come on, sweetheart, come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”
    With that, you do as you’re told, your pussy clenching around his fingers. Loki massages your sweet spot with his digits while you come all over his fingers. Your juices squirt all over his palm and fingers, landing on the ground of the cell.
     “F—Fuck, please, keep going, please, Loki,” you beg, thrusting your hips against his hand while you ride out your orgasm.
     He can’t stop his movements just now; you need him to fuck you through your orgasm — and that’s what he does. Curling his fingers steadily inside of your pulsing cunt, he thrusts slowly into you while you breathe heavily.
     You have been moaning like a whore since he started to fuck you with his finger. But you don’t care; he feels too good to think properly.
     “Didn’t think about it, darlin’. Doing so good for me, gonna keep you and take you with me to Asgard; make you my sweet little wife and fuck you whenever and wherever I want,” he groans, his eyes rolling slightly back when he thinks about that idea. A low moan escapes his pink lips, and he smirks. “You’re already so cock drunk, you can’t even think about it properly. Just say yes, darling.”
     You nod your head, your hips still moving against this hand, while you don’t really notice what he is saying. As long as he keeps his fingers inside of you. “Yes, please.”
     “Whining and begging like a pathetic little housewife, that’s what you are. My sweet little housewife.” He kisses your neck once again, sucking a purple mark into your skin. “All mine, darling, and everyone can see it.”
     Even with your protests, Loki pulls his fingers out of you, holding them up to show you your arousal dripping down his fingers. You blush slightly, watching Loki bring his fingers closer to his face. You turn your head, looking at him while he takes them into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.
     “Tasting perfect, darling,” he hums more to himself before he moves his hand, and you’re suddenly dressed again.
     Your eyes widen, reality hits you, and you jump off his lap. You immediately miss his warmth, a cold shiver running down your spine while you consider getting back into his lap or staying away from him. This is just a short moment, because as much as you should stay away from him, as much as you crave and need this black-haired man.
     “That’s my girl. Now let’s get out of this cell and make you my pretty little housewife,” he says, smirking at you when your back is pressed against his chest once again. And just as he tells you, he is doing exactly that, making you his wife — and luckily, you’re not the only one addicted to the other one. A god can be just as addicted and craving like a human.
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// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles
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hydravns · 3 days
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beheworthy · 2 days
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So, is this how you normally look? More or less. It's a good look.
Thor Odinson + magical transformations
(requested by anonymous)
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elennemigo · 19 hours
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@mcuchallenge June | MORE
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Captain America: Civil War
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Random gifs of Billy Russo (3/∞) Ben Barnes as Billy Russo ↳ The Punisher | S01E12
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Emoji, questionmark
Katya receives a special text from Natasha, who is very... appreciative of her muscles.
• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 3.1k • Warnings: suggestive • A/N: thank you so much for your patience as I took a bit of a break from writing! I hope to post more now :) Masterlist
Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!
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"Thanks again, Kat!"
The last of Katya's students left the training room, taking their water bottles and positive energy with them. 
It had been another good day at the women-only gym, and Katya lingered around to clean up, in no rush to get home. She looked up and smiled at the goodbye, giving a small wave to Sandra, who got more confident in her own skin every week. 
"Till next week!"
When the room was empty, Katya did a small lap around to look for any forgotten items or water spills, ending up where she started; at the portable speaker nestled in the corner. Her phone lay next to it, connected to the bluetooth device. 
Pulling the hair tie from her sweaty, oily hair, Katya picked it up. It unlocked to several missed messages from the last two hours—she rarely checked messages between classes, and not at all in classes. That's not the type of vibe she wanted to give off.
There were some notifications from her social media, a text from Laura thanking her for the flowers she sent for her and Clint's wedding anniversary, one from Maya saying she picked up cat food. 
And, of course, a text from her wife.
They were so… pathetically connected that they missed the other instantly when they were apart. 
Natasha had some errands to run in the city? Katya sat on the couch, sulking, anticipating her return. Katya was at work all day? Natasha texted her more often than usual about stuff that didn't matter in the slightest just because she was thinking about her the whole time. 
The only time they were ever fully at ease was when they were together. Maya made fun of them for it, but Katya was quick to point out that the past had given them enough reason to feel that way. Unexpectant time apart, years where they thought the other was dead. It left deep scars in their fragile hearts and separation anxiety in their stomachs.
For obvious reasons, Katya had message previews for Natasha's chats off, in case anyone needed to use her phone. She only saw what her wife texted her when she opened the chat. 
Katya snorted out loud in the empty room. Caught off guard by the embarrassed sound that came out of her own mouth, she quickly looked around, but the only one staring at her was the reflection of herself in the large mirror wall.
Smugness drew a smirk across her mouth, ego puffing out her chest. Natasha was the best hypewoman, even when her reasons were entirely selfish. Nobody loved Katya's physique more than her, and she made sure to let her know every chance she got, both verbal and non-verbal. The non-verbal worshipping was both their favorite. 
Natasha's message consisted of one emoji and one punctuation mark. Not an uncommon thing in itself. A food item with a question mark meant; can you pick this up, or can we have this for dinner? A cat or a ginger-haired girl with a question mark meant; where is the cat, and where is Maya? Any of those things with an exclamation mark meant; don't forget to pick it up. 
It was an important distinction. 
But there were no doubts on what Natasha meant this time. It was very, very clear what she wanted. Shamelessly too.
The flexed arm emoji combined with the question mark meant she was most probably horny, and most definitely mentally drifting.
Katya snickered as she locked and pocketed her phone, collecting the last of her stuff before closing the door of the training room behind her. Usually, she would head straight for the office or to the car, but now she took a detour to the machines. 
Smiling and greeting people, she did a few quick stretches before grabbing a set of weights. With no pre-workout taken, no warmup of any kind, she sat down and started a quick bicep and shoulder routine. 
The goal today wasn't to get a correct workout in. The goal was to pump her muscles so her wife could get her fix. 
She was barely sweaty by the time she stopped, but she had no patience to continue. By now, Natasha would have seen that she'd been left on delivered and would be waiting on what she asked for. The woman was a lot of things, but patient wasn't high up in that list. 
Katya was in and out of the machine room within fifteen minutes, hurrying to find a mirror before her hard work was lost. Luckily, there was another pro to an all-women gym: incredible bathroom lighting. None of that dark, mysterious stuff where you feel like you're in a cave. No, the mirrors on the walls were huge and lined with lights. 
Katya made sure the stalls were empty before propping her phone up on the sink, next to the gym-provided perfumes and deodorant. Quickly, she took her hoodie off and turned with her back to the camera, redoing her ponytail to ensure a maximal view of her shoulders and back.
It felt odd in the beginning to take pics like these, when Natasha first started asking for them. But Katya quickly found out that it wasn't very different from the nudes she sent her. Natasha found her sexy and hot no matter what pose or position she was in, as long as she could see what she wanted to see. Don't overthink it.
She snapped some pictures from different angles, capturing different muscle groups, and tried some new poses she found online from the fitgirls she followed. They didn't turn out amazing, but they would satiate Natasha for now. When footsteps approached the bathroom door, Katya hid the evidence of her activities by snatching her phone off the sink, but Brianna took one look at her and smiled knowingly.
"Documenting your progress?" She asked, picking the sink next to Katya's to wash her hands. Her hair wasn't in box braids this time, instead in a bun on the back of her head. She looked gorgeous whatever way she wore it. 
"They're not for me," Katya answered distractedly, flipping through the photos to pick the best ones, deleting some that were too mediocre. She had to admit, her body looked good.
"Ah." Brianna smirked, taking a quick peek at the phone screen. "What the wife wants, the wife gets."
"Exactly." Katya mirrored her expression and sent the three best pics off to Natasha without any context, then she pocketed her phone and turned to her boss. "I think this means I have to get home ASAP."
"Get some."
Katya snickered. "I think I will."
Natasha had been feeling like this all day; clingy, needy. Usually, she was the first one out of bed in the mornings. Today, she wouldn't let Katya get up to go to work. It almost made her late.
These phases of hers came and went. One week, she followed Katya everywhere like a baby duck. The next, she sought out solitude in her office upstairs. 
They made it work no matter what mood she was in, but Natasha couldn't help but dread the moments she was alone when she felt clingy. With Maya at school, and no distractions, she started to think about stupid stuff, like if this was how it felt to be on your period. Emotional and needy. 
She just missed Katya. Like a dog misses its owner. She wanted hugs; a warm, strong body to nestle into. She wanted to be taken care of; for Katya to bring her tea and wrap a blanket around her. 
She would tell her all of this, but Natasha didn't like to bother her too much when she was at work. It was only eight hours, and she was a big girl. 
Nevertheless, after trying everything to put her mind off it, Natasha wound up looking through her camera roll for pictures of her wife. If anyone ever found or hacked her phone, they'd think she was a stalker. She had folders for everything, sorted alphabetically, and filled to the brim with pictures of Katya.
'Kat on holiday'. 'Family'. 'Kat doing stuff'. 'Kat candid pics'. Natasha even had a 'this is my wife'-folder, because she always managed to work Katya into any conversation and would then proudly show her off to anyone. This folder was filled with Katya's prettiest pictures. 
Natasha paused with her thumb hovering above the last folder, hidden at the bottom of the screen. Going into her camera roll, her goal was simply to daydream innocently and to fill that Katya-shaped hole in her day. But if she clicked on that folder, her brain was going to take a very aggressive U-turn onto a road that steered straight off a cliff.
Oh well, it'd give her something to do.
'Kat's muscle pics', was, obviously, filled with pictures of Katya's muscles; ones the brunette sent herself, posed, or quick snaps Natasha took. Most of them were lucky shots. Candid pics turned muscle pics. Katya's strong legs in shorts, her arms in a tank top, her abs in a bikini, her back in a strapless dress. Anything where her incredible muscles were highlighted.
If Maya didn't have the code to her phone, Natasha would have named the folder something more worthy. 'Muscle mommy', maybe. 
But the mediocre name didn't stop Natasha from enjoying the content thoroughly. She stopped at every pic, took her time, zoomed in, shifted in her seat if one really got to her. But they didn't seem to be hitting like they usually did. With a frown, she scrolled back to the most recent picture, finding the date to confirm her thoughts. 
It dated back 3 weeks. 3 weeks! Way too long. 
Upset—and a bit pissed—she backed out of the app and found her chat with Katya. It was truly outrageous that she hadn't been supplied with fresh content for twenty-one whole days. Shocking that she had to ask for it herself. Part of her was too proud to, but the bigger part needed new pics right now. 
Quickly, she found the arm emoji—which wasn't even in her recents anymore, unlike the peach and the scissors—and threw a big, fat question mark behind it. Only one, because she wanted to tell Katya in person how pissed she was. Then she sent the text.
Waiting was torture. Natasha even went on a run to pass the time, music blasting in her eardrums instead of the usual audiobook or podcast. But there were no notifications when she came back home, or showered, or made herself a snack. 
She was ready to throw her phone across the room and roll up into a blanket ball on the couch when the status of her text changed from 'delivered' to 'seen'. Hopeful and excited, Natasha sat up, intently staring at the screen. She wasn't disheartened when Katya went offline again without replying. Her wife never ignored her, so something must be coming soon.
She fumbled for her phone when it chimed, her heart racing as she opened the pictures Katya finally sent her. It wasn't just one. It wasn't two. It was three.
Saliva pooled in her mouth as she studied them. Closely. Every ridge, every rounding, every curve of Katya's upper body. Her phone was only inches away from her face, too scared to miss anything like she didn't have free access to those muscles 24/7.
The pictures were perfect. They were sexy, so sexy. They were feminine yet masculine. Elegant yet tough. The perfect combination. A woman who could rock a dress and be a gentlewoman, and strangle a man to protect her. 
The need to feel the muscles underneath her fingertips slowly grew. It was a weird mix of horniness and loneliness. To have those strong arms around her in a hug, or to desperately hold them as Katya ruined her? 
Liho meowed as she jumped on the couch, sniffing Natasha's phone as if she wanted a piece of Katya too.
"Look at your other mom," Natasha said to her in her baby-voice full of awe, showing the cat the pictures like Liho had any clue what she should be looking at. The animal just meowed again. "I agree, baby. So gorgeous. So sexy. And all mine."
Natasha's thumb drifted towards the call-button—she needed to hear Katya's voice. She couldn't keep staring at the pictures that were sent without any context. She needed more. Anything. But right before she tapped, three dots appeared at the bottom of her screen. 
Kat: Leaving now. See you soon x.
Katya walked into the house with caution like the spy she once was, dropping her shoes and bag along the way. 
When Natasha didn't reply to the pictures, she knew what time it was. Actually, she knew what time it was when she asked for muscle pictures. Only a needy Natasha would do that. And Katya knew, based on the millions of Instagram Reels her wife had also sent her today, that it wasn't just a regular horny episode either. Natasha was lonely.
The thought made her heart swell. They'd been together for most of their lives, yet Natasha still wanted to spend all of their time together if they could. Only then did she feel completely content and happy. She wasn't very good at verbally telling Katya that, but there were huge signs if you knew where to look. Like her behavior today.
Just in time, Katya stopped herself from chuckling when she stepped into the living room. Natasha sat on the couch like an angry child, scowling pettily and refusing to look away from the TV. She clearly wasn't happy with Katya's lack of attention today and wanted to teach her a lesson for it. Silent treatment was therein her lesson of choice.
"Привет, милая (Hello, honey)," Katya said slowly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorpost. The Russian was on purpose and came as a complete surprise to Natasha, who stiffened slightly. The words always hit just a little deeper if Katya switched back to their first language. "Почему ты дуешься (Why are you pouting)?"
Natasha looked conflicted, not sure what emotion to act on. One, anger; two, horniness; three, clinginess. She thought long and hard about her answer, not moving an inch as she did, pretending her wife was air. 
"I've been neglected," she accused Katya coldly. A good answer. It covered all three of her emotions.
Katya pushed away from the doorpost, slowly approaching her frozen wife. Like one would a scared cat. "I'm sorry, baby. That was never my intention." If Natasha listened closely—and Katya knew she did—then she could hear the amusement in her voice. That's probably the reason for the side-eye Natasha gave her when she sat down next to her. "How can I make it up to you?"
It didn't appear as if Natasha was going to answer. She stayed silent for so long, her steel expression directed at the TV, that Katya nearly gave up. A minute longer and she'd have stood up to prepare some sweet gesture. But then Natasha slowly leaned into her. 
It was barely noticeable if Katya wasn't hyper aware of her to begin with. But slowly, very slowly, her wife's body tilted her way. When Katya opened her arms, it went faster, until Natasha was fully resting against her chest. Eagerly, Katya wrapped her arms around her body. Natasha didn't fully relax; silent protest.
"For now," she said warningly, before Katya got too happy.
The brunette frowned. She was still happy, don't get her wrong, but hugs weren't exactly what she expected when she drove home. "Does—"
"Sex later."
Of course, Natasha read her mind. 
Katya hummed in acknowledgement, like it didn't make her incredibly excited. Natasha would push her off the couch if she set one foot wrong. Instead, she rubbed her shoulder carefully while Natasha kept pretending to watch the TV. If the redhead wanted to be stubborn a little longer, then Katya was going to let her. She could contain her own neediness for a long, long time.
Natasha's phone was safely tucked between her thighs, anxiously. How big were the chances that Katya's pictures would pop up if she unlocked it? She was too scared for her hand to find out. 
"Did you like them?" She asked, failing to hide the smugness in her voice. The thin ice she tread on cracked beneath her feet.
"They'll do," Natasha answered, uninterested.
Katya nearly snorted, but she settled for a half smirk Natasha couldn't even see. "You know, there's nothing wrong with admitting that you like them.''
"I said, they'll do," the redhead corrected sharply.
Natasha's scowl deepened when she heard how sarcastic that answer was. Anyone walking in would think the TV personally offended her. "Stop being so cocky."
"You don't think I have a reason to be?"
"I didn't say that."
"You don't like it?"
"You're putting words in my mouth."
"I wish I was putting something else in—" Natasha's death glare cut her off. It was brief, but powerful, and the woman settled right back into Katya's chest afterwards.
"You have the right to be cocky, but you still irritate me," Natasha mumbled through gritted teeth. 
Katya dared to smile after the fear left her system. "Why?"
"Because you know damn well what it does to me, and it's unfair to have so much power over me."
It took all her willpower not to chuckle. Katya magically managed to keep her body still too. But it was going to be her words that would trigger Natasha. "Aw, is this your power struggle-struggle again?"
It was finally too much. With an angry huff, the woman pushed away from her, a dangerous fire flickering behind her eyes that matched the fiery color of her hair. She was absolutely stunning. "I would be very careful if I were you. What you say or do next could determine your near future and if you'll still have one."
This would be terrifying for anybody else in Katya's position. Even Clint would think this was a good time to shut up, but it was Katya's goal to rile her up as much as she could. Because the only way Natasha was going to let it out was by destroying her later. In a good way. Upstairs. 
She shrugged indifferently, scooting to the edge of her seat. "You want to live the rest of your life alone? Okay.'' Before she could lift her butt off the couch, she was yanked down by the front of her shirt. One blink of her eyes and Natasha was on top of her, her fingers digging into the tight muscles of her arms. Katya bit back a smirk. She knew the pictures hit her hard.
''You're not going anywhere.''
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w4dows · 2 days
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i told you so
wanda maximoff x fem! reader
cw: internalized homophobia, pining, eventual (light) smut - i am not responsible for the content you consume
word count: 1.7k
summary: from the moment you'd met wanda, you'd been enamoured, but being in love with your best friend when she's in a long-term relationship with her boyfriend, Vision, really wasn't good for your heart.
a/n: yes this was inspired by Chapell Roan "Good Luck, Babe!"
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you had kissed wanda once, and you don’t think you’d ever forget it.
the club she had persuaded you to go to with her was a jumble of sweaty drunk people in a dingy, sweaty bar, and you lost wanda - you think she said she was going to get a drink, but to be honest, you were just staring at her lips. her pillowed lips were pinked by a lip gloss, a lip gloss that you very proudly had bought for her. she taps on your shoulder, and you look at her, your breath hitching in your throat; god, she was beautiful - and also very drunk.
somehow you let yourself be dragged into joining the clutter of people who were dancing, and you find your hands on wanda’s hips as she dances, one of the few & rare carefree moments she has. your lips quirk up into a smile, with affection shining so brightly in your eyes as you watched the red haired girl, affection that was purely for wanda. 
she looks at you, her piercing green eyes much fonder than usual, cleared of the usual stress and worry that hid away in them, and she cupped your face in her hands. her hands were sweaty, so was your face - but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when she was holding your face as if it was fragile goods. 
“wands?” you murmur softly, your faces so close that she can hear you over the loud bass of the club, over the horrible DJ’s remixes. 
“you look pretty tonight - can i kiss you?” she whispers, her eyes trained on your lips, and your breath hitches in your throat, unable to do anything but nod.
god, when her lips met yours you thought the world might explode. the kiss was tender, soft even, and as you both pulled away breathlessly, she looked at you. you thought this might be the start for something real between you and wanda, but instead -
“want me to get you a refill?”
'no i want you to kiss me again and never stop,' you thought.
you nodded dumbly instead.
you had first met the girl when she was a shell of the woman she is now, she had just been recruited as an avenger. you were the one in her earpiece, guiding her through her missions as a very nervous wanda acclimatized to being an avenger and helping people.
you were there for her when she had failed her first mission, when she opened up about sokovia and how much she missed her twin brother, and she was there for you when you spoke of the stress of your job, and the worry you had for every avenger. the 2 of you quickly found yourselves becoming close with each other, and there was barely a moment that you weren’t
until vision came along. after wanda kissed you, the both of you hadn’t spoken about it again, opting to go on with the party as if everything was normal. a week later, she finally accepted visions’ advances.
wanda was fickle - she craved love. she had been taught between good and bad from a young age, and loving a girl - no, loving you, was simply not good. so she settled, she settled for Vision. he was a sweet boy, who clearly had it bad for her. she tried to love him, she really did, but every time he'd touch her, every time he'd kiss her, she couldn't help but wonder; would you be as soft as you looked when you'd kiss her? would you be gentle with her, or would you let the fire of desire consume you?
loving wanda was like a fire, not just because of her uncanny resemblance to one in personality & physical features; her burning embers of auburn hair, her fiery resilience. loving her was something that kept you comfortable, made your heart warm, but it could quickly turn into something more dangerous, something more damaging if not taken care of properly - which is how your 'friendship' ended.
your friendship with wanda, full of yearning and pining, had come to an unfortunate halt when you had just enough of wanda & visions relationship, or should you say, “relationship.” 
she had invited you out to brunch, which you eagerly accepted, wanda doesn’t get many days off. you guys were at your favorite spot, sipping on cocktails as you chatted, until vision was brought up. 
“i really don’t understand why it bothers you so much,” she remarks, after you’d rolled at some story about vision doing the bare minimum and wanda gushing over him. 
“you deserve someone who would treat you good wands,” you remark bitterly, sick of biting your tongue when it came to discussing her relationship
“he treats me just fine-”
“I could treat you better wands,” you interrupt, you were done hiding how you felt, especially when vision wasn’t treating wanda as good as you could.
“what do you mean?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing together.
you take a deep breath before speaking, “i mean that i love you wanda- i have for a long time.”
her face falls.
so does yours.
“you can’t love me-”
“thanks-a-fucking-lot wanda! tell me how i’m supposed to stop loving someone you, tell me,” you were practically begging; god, you were so tired of pining. 
“why do you love me when you know i can't- shouldn't love you back?” she practically whispers, rolling her bottom lip through her teeth
“i cant-” 
before she can even finish talking, you grab your wallet, placing some bills on the table to cover brunch
“wands, i can’t do this anymore - i need time,” you mutter, trying to blink back tears as you walk out of the quaint brunch spot, desperately trying not to look back at her.
wanda was a mess without you. what was the point of being an avenger, of saving people, if she didn’t have you in her earpiece, guiding her through it, assuring her that everytime was going to be okay - you always made everything okay. 
she missed you. 
but she also didn’t have the right to miss you.
so she threw herself into missions, into making the world a better place (and avoiding vision)
2 weeks later she broke up with him.
to his credit, he took it well - at least better than most would.
she stood, small and timid on your doorstep as knocks; it was much too late at night for you to be anywhere else.
her head was pounding, a flurry of unkempt thoughts as she heard your footsteps approach the door. yet, as soon as you opened it and she saw your face, they quieted; it was just, you.
god, she missed you.
your eyebrows furrowed, meeting perfectly in the middle, before you decided to speak. "wands, what are you doing here?" you questioned, your tone not harsh, but it was lacking the usual warmth you stowed away for wanda.
"i left vision"
"i left vision because i love you"
"..." she stood there, looking so shy, eagerly waiting for your response, and all you could think to say was 'oh.' - you loved wanda, of course you did, but you weren't exactly sure how to tell her you loved her too. you were so caught up in your head that you didn't catch the way wanda's face fell - did she make a mistake telling you?
she took a deep breath, braving herself to speak before continuing, "if you dont feel the same way its fin-"
"i love you too wanda. i love you so much that i think the world might explode," you blurt out; now it was wanda's turn to be shocked. both of you clearly weren't expecting that response, and all you could do was stare at the other, millions of unspoken words and thoughts between you.
“wands, come in,” you murmur, and god had she missed this.
you quickly find your lips pressed against wanda’s, teeth clicking against each other as your hands tangle in her flaming hair, deepening the kiss. you were desperate to feel her, to touch her, as was she.
she tasted the same she did from that night at the bar, but this was much more raw, much more primal. neither of you objected as your hands made their way onto her ass, holding it as she deepened the kiss.
you broke the kiss, both of you breathless and panting, your chests rising and falling in sync as the both of you tried to catch your breath.
"touch me, please," she whispers, her lips plump and swollen from your kisses, and god, all she wanted was your touch.
"are you sure?" you murmur, and all she had to do was nod before you helped her tug off her sweatshirt and sweatpants. she was standing before you, vulnerable & so beautiful as she looked at you, her pupils blown with lust. her pearly skin was on display, and you could see every freckle, every birthmark, every scar. 
"god wands, you're beautiful."
her face tinges with red, and you can't help the soft chuckle that escapes your throat, pressing another soft kiss to her lips.
you waste no time in stripping down, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses onto wanda’s neck, and you felt like you were on fire. you take your time coaxing sweet noises out of the redhead, enjoying every moan and whimper you elicited, savoring them. kissing down her neck and moving onto her collarbones paying special attention to that one spot that coaxed the sweetest little moans out of her. 
she whined impatiently as you toyed with her breasts, tugging and toying with her sensitive nipples. god, she was so beautiful; head thrown back, soft moans falling out of her mouth.
to what feels like years to wanda, you finally make yourself in between her legs, god she was wet. you look up at her, “is this okay, beautiful?” you mummur, and she nods. 
“words, baby”
“yes, god yes,” she rasps, and you press a kiss to her inner thigh before diving in
by the end of the night, you’d kissed wanda maximoff a total of 27 times. 
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 12 hours
Sebastian Stan characters finding out you’re pregnant » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out you’re pregnant.
Warnings: Fluff, language, pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.
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The words “I’m pregnant.” falling from your lips would leave Bucky speechless, nervous, and scared, but over all, he would be excited that he’s going to be a dad. He would be by your side no matter what.
The first person he would tell is Steve, obviously.
Bucky would hold your hair during morning sickness.
He would be confused as hell with the craving combinations you came up with. You would steal some of his plums when he’s not looking or when he’s not home. When he asks you about it, you say “It wasn’t me. It was the baby.”
Bucky would give you any kind of massage. Feet, back, shoulders, you name it.
When you demand cuddles and kisses, he’ll give them to you.
He tries his best to be there for you during your mood swings. He holds you while you’re crying about something that shouldn’t be something to cry about, but he still comforts you. He also holds you when you’re mad. You try to fight him off and push him away, but he’s too strong and won’t let go of you so you give in and melt into his touch.
Bucky was a little hesitant about touching your baby bump with his vibranium hand, because he didn’t want to somehow hurt you or the baby. Eventually, that worry leaves his mind after a few days and he trusts himself to touch your baby bump with his vibranium hand.
He would be obsessed when the baby starts kicking. He would be completely astonished the first time he or she kicks. He would marvel over it while his right hand on your baby bump.
He would love having little talks with the baby. He’ll tell him or her stories about what life was like in the 1940s, Steve, your beauty, his family, and what the Army was like.
Don’t get him started on baby clothes. You two would go shopping for baby clothes after finding out the gender of the baby.
Bucky would love to have a daughter. He would love to have a son too. Just as long as the baby is healthy, he doesn’t mind what the gender is.
He would want Steve to be the godfather.
Sam would claim the favorite uncle.
Natasha and Wanda would playfully argue over the favorite aunt.
Bucky would be the kind of first time parent to buy a parenting book so he knows what to do and what to expect before and after the baby is born.
Bucky would wish that his parents and sister were alive so they can meet his son or daughter when he or she is born.
If the baby is a girl, he would want to name her after his mom or sister. If the baby is a boy, you would to name him after Bucky and he would want to name him after his best friend.
Over all, Bucky would be the most amazing father in the world.
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fandomnerd9602 · 1 day
Y/N: what if we got married?
Wanda: what?
Y/N: what if we got married? Just you and me. There’s a little chapel not far from here.
Wanda: (giggles) how far?
Y/N: two blocks I think
Wanda: race you there!
Wanda and Y/N run down the street, laughing as they race to the chapel…
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For @lifespectator
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she-karev · 3 days
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FAVORITE X-MEN '97 MEMBER (as voted by my followers) #6. Wolverine/Logan Howlett 🐺🔪🔪🔪
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