#marvel mcu

[whitedarkmoonflower]

The man on the bridge... I knew him... Sebastian Stan as Winter Soldier // Scenes that make my heart brake Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[guardian-angel12]

Ok, say it with me:

Yondu 👏🏽was 👏🏽not 👏🏽an 👏🏽entirely 👏🏽good 👏🏽person 👏🏽and 👏🏽knew 👏🏽it👏🏽yet 👏🏽he 👏🏽tried 👏🏽his 👏🏽best 👏🏽and 👏🏽that 👏🏽makes 👏🏽him 👏🏽the 👏🏽best 👏🏽father👏🏽

[fotibrit]

field trip to stark industries fic but it’s post-NWH and it’s peter community college class and peter’s first time back in the building after being forgotten.

and the building makes it very clear that AIs were immune to the spell.

bonus points if it’s an au where tony survived, and he’s very curious why his tech is reacting so strangely to this random kid

[asherashedwings]

This is how the first Avengers went, right?

[fanficgirl429]

Sex, Dishes, and Emotional Damage

Prompt: Y/N walks into the kitchen where the rest of the Thunderbolts are and is in a very grouchy mood. She's mad at them for one reason and Bucky for another.

Pairing: Fem!reader x Bucky Barnes

---

The kitchen buzzed with the usual morning chaos: clattering mugs, half-hearted jokes, and a steady stream of sarcasm as the Thunderbolts tried to function on minimal sleep and questionable caffeine habits.

Y/N shuffled in like a storm cloud wrapped in fuzzy socks. Her hair was in a messy bun that looked moments from total collapse. She wore leggings and one of Bucky’s oversized sweatshirts—it nearly swallowed her whole, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips, the hem brushing her knees. She looked exhausted… and somehow still unfairly adorable.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Yelena chirped from her perch on the counter, legs swinging like a child’s as she sipped from a black coffee mug.

Y/N grunted. “Is it?” she muttered, making a beeline for the coffee pot like it held the meaning of life.

“Someone’s a little grumpy,” Ava sing-songed, lazily stirring her cereal.

“I’m just saying,” John added with a smirk, “this feels like one of those mornings where I pretend I didn’t see anything and slowly back out of the room.”

Bucky, leaning against the fridge, watched his girlfriend move around the kitchen like a very tired, very cute gremlin. He held a banana he’d long since stopped eating, more interested in how she looked in his sweatshirt. His voice was soft when he greeted her.

“Hey, doll.”

Y/N didn’t even look at him. “Don’t ‘doll’ me right now.”

Yelena’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh. He’s in trouble.”

Y/N turned with her mug, scanned the room—and froze.

The dishes.

The fucking dishes.

The sink overflowed with food-streaked plates and smudged mugs. Greasy pans hadn’t moved in days. The garbage can was brimming. The counters were covered in crumbs, an empty energy drink, and a sticky mystery spot that might’ve been jelly.

“This kitchen,” she said, eerily calm, “is an actual war zone. Why do I even bother making a chore chart if no one reads it? Is it invisible? Am I being pranked?”

“Y/N, relax,” John said, raising both hands like she had a weapon.

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she snapped, spinning so fast coffee sloshed over her mug. “Last time someone said they’d clean it, guess who spent two hours on her hands and knees scrubbing dried oatmeal off the tile? Me!”

“Babe—” Bucky started gently.

She cut him off without turning. “Don’t even start with me, Barnes, because I’m mad at you too.”

A low whistle escaped Yelena. “Welp. I’m leaving before blood gets spilled.”

“I’m going with you,” Ava said, grabbing her toast as the three of them evacuated with zero shame.

Silence settled over the kitchen, save for the hum of the fridge.

Y/N let out a long sigh and leaned against the counter, arms folded tight, jaw clenched. But beneath the edge in her voice, her eyes looked tired—not furious, just worn down.

Bucky leaned against the counter opposite her, patient and calm.

“Alright,” he said gently. “Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart.”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m tired. Not just tired-tired. Everything-tired. I feel like I’m doing all the little things no one else even notices. Cleaning. Organizing. Fixing. And the second I clean something, it’s a disaster again.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “You’re right. I haven’t been helping enough. And I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”

She blinked a few times. Her voice cracked when she finally whispered, “I just miss when it was simple. When it was just us. That shoebox apartment with no furniture and a toaster that shot bread like a missile.”

Bucky chuckled, stepping closer. “You mean the one-bedroom with the leaky faucet and neighbors who screamed at each other every night?”

“Yes,” she mumbled, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I miss it. Because it was ours.”

He reached for her hand, gently lacing their fingers. “This is ours too. We just forgot how to protect our peace.”

She let herself lean into his chest for a moment, melting into the quiet comfort of him. “Thank you.”

He rubbed slow circles on her back with his thumb, then pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Okay. But why am I in the doghouse, exactly? I’ve been pretty well-behaved lately, haven’t I?”

She bit her lip, hesitating. Then, softly: “We haven’t had sex in, like… a week, Bucky.”

Bucky blinked. “Wait. That’s why you’re mad?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Don’t laugh.”

He laughed anyway. “You’re mad at me for not jumping your bones?”

“I said don’t laugh!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“Babe, I didn’t know that was on the official ‘Reasons You’re Mad at Me’ list.”

“Well it is!” she insisted. “I’ve tried. But every time I make a move, you’re already passed out or talking mission strategy or patching someone up.”

Bucky stepped in closer, his voice low and sincere. “If you had said the word, I would’ve dropped everything. You know that, right?”

She looked away, but he could see the faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Maybe I wanted you to notice first.”

“I always notice you,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Even when you’re mad at me. Especially then—you get all snappy and flushed. It’s hot.”

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Shut up.”

He grinned, tugging her into him again and pressing a kiss to her temple, then the corner of her mouth. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere with a lock. And a bed. And no dishes.”

She giggled as he led her toward the hallway. “We’re just leaving this mess?”

Bucky glanced back at the disaster zone. “We’ll clean it later. Or bribe Yelena.”

Y/N laughed as he guided her to the doorway, stealing one more kiss before guiding her out—her hand in his, her storm-cloud mood finally starting to clear.

[catnelli]

"Daddy, I'm so alone. I don't have anything anymore. All I do is sit, and look at my phone, and think of all the terrible things that I've done, and then I go to work, and then I drink, come home to no-one, and I sit and think about all the terrible things I've done again and again and I go crazy!"

- Yelena Belova

[partyyhardyyyyyy]

Real💔💔

I'm still here btw...

[itzsephig5]

Bob: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag. Yelena: Way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

[mercurial-chuckles]

On the qui vive

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader WC: ~1k Warnings: Fluff | Established relationship | Absolutely-in-love Bucky | Protective Bucky | Bucky painting your toenails | Bucky taking care of some business (mob elements) | Bucky being hot and incorrigible | Allusions to spicy times | Some language | Very much unbeta'd | Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: Sorry, I haven't been on much here. Found a thought in my drafts and put together something haphazardly for Hot Bucky Summer 2025 | Week 02 Prompt: "Did I give you permission?" | @buckybarnesevents Thank you for hosting. 😊✨🥹💞 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. Banner & Divider made by me. Picture credits to Pinterest. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

Damn it!

You scrambled around the hotel suite.

You were supposed to be on time. You always told yourself you'd have everything sorted and ease into important days with a calm, relaxed start. But nope. That version of you clearly didn't exist. A miserable case of chaos was what you were.

Gawd!

Bucky was to be blamed anyway. He'd flown in late last night, and he didn't let you out of the bed ever since he stepped foot into the hotel room. And he thwarted every attempt of you sneaking out of the bed this morning, dragging you right back into his arms. You couldn't believe sometimes that he could be so insatiable despite being married for more than a decade now.

Your husband was a ridiculously sinful man, indeed! Not that you usually complained about your husband's incorrigible loving ways. But today was an important day, and you should be there on time.

You had a luncheon with the whole team today before your book launch tomorrow, and Jeremy would absolutely have your head if you were late to your own event. You'd already been two minutes late to the dinner meeting last night. To be fair, that wasn't really your fault either. You got held up by a couple of women who somehow recognized you. You hadn't expected anyone to know you, especially not in Venice, so far from home. It was endearing. You'd been so flustered when they asked for your autograph that you walked into the meeting grinning like an idiot, only to get an earful from Jeremy for being late.

Yesterday was a simple team dinner, but today was important, and you couldn't be late by a second.

You heard the loud yawn, followed by a grunt.

Fucking Finally!

"Bucky, hurry up, will ya?" you called out to him.

"I'm almost ready, pretty girl," came his gravelly rasp.

You'd both gotten maybe a couple of hours of sleep between stuff. You turned just in time to see him walking out of the bedroom, phone against his ear, as he said, "Good," before placing the phone down on the kitchen counter.

He wandered over, buttoning up his white shirt at such a seductively slow pace, you grunted annoyedly at him for various reasons.

Jesus Christ! He looked divine.

You sat cross-legged on the ottoman, rushing to paint your toenails because, of course, you didn't get to do them earlier. No thanks to your husband. You figured you could get it done while Bucky got dressed lazily, leisurely.

Whatever was up with him today.

He strolled over, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth that you cut hurriedly for you both a few minutes earlier.

And then he met your eyes.

Shit.

The second he looked at you, you knew. Bucky knew. You didn't know who snitched, but after nearly fifteen years with Bucky Barnes, you shouldn't be so surprised. Your husband always knew when someone so much as breathed your way wrong.

You'd actually been relieved he wasn't at the dinner last night. Because if he had been, things would've gone very differently. Henry, your executive publisher, had cornered you. He was drunk and touchy, and you managed to wiggle out of the situation without making a scene. Mostly because you didn't want to see bloodshed. But the second it happened, you knew it would've been a disaster if Bucky had seen it. So yeah, you were glad he'd been delayed. Even if part of you wished he'd been there to stop it from happening at all.

He sank onto the couch in front of you, dragging your foot into his lap.

You tried to wiggle away, but his grip tightened around your calf.

"Stay still," he warned in a dangerously low voice. Nevertheless, you squirmed.

"We don't have much time," you argued, worry gnawing at you.

"Don't worry, pretty girl. I got you," he said calmly, and he took the little bottle of nail polish from your hand.

"You'll ruin your trousers," you muttered.

"Gotta be still then, Sweetheart," He hummed softly, too jaunty, for your liking. Bucky painted the first toe carefully. It was utterly unbelievable how quickly he unraveled you.

You watched him, waiting for him to ask you, but he didn't, making you groan internally. And the longer he kept painting, the more nervous you got.

"Should I just tell you?" you mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky didn't look up. "Tell me what, beautiful?"

"You know what."

"Do I?" He raised his eyes, and that dark gleam in them made your stomach twist. It was dangerous, that look, especially for your poor heart, always ready to topple you more and more into him.

Your phone rang. Jeremy. You answered quickly.

"Hey! Promise I won't be late. Ten minutes tops…" Jeremy, however, cut you off your babbling, "You didn't hear?" he said urgently.

"Hear what?" you asked confused.

"Henry. He was in some kind of accident this morning. It's serious. We gotta cancel the lunch."

You froze. "Is he…?"

"No idea. It's all over the place. Ronald called and said something about him losing an arm. It's bizarre. I put him in a cab last night, and he was fine." Jeremy sighed before he continued, "I don't know what happened, but I'll update you when I can. The launch is still on for tomorrow though. I'll send over the new schedule soon."

You set your phone aside, mind still trying to process. You went to pull your foot back, but Bucky didn't let go.

"Did I give you permission to move, Mrs. Barnes? You'll mess up all my hard work." he chuckled, casually blowing on your toes.

"Bucky," you hissed, "What the hell did you do?"

He took his time. Capped the polish. Set it down. Then lifted your leg over his shoulder and tugged you onto the couch beneath him.

"Bucky."

He kissed the curve of your neck, then licked a slow path to your ear. You let out a lewd moan, an entirely inappropriate reaction to the feeling of dread settling in your tummy. Bucky pressed himself against you, one hand cupped your face and the other wandered toward your chest, palming your tits.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping him to find your losing sanity, "What. Did. You. Do?"

He finally met your gaze.

"He shouldn't have touched you, doll," he said softly, his breath warm against your lips, his stubble brushing against your skin, and dousing you in his sweet, sinful smell.

"Be grateful he's still breathing."

"Bucky…" His name caught in your gasping breath, and he smiled at you reverently, and gawd, you knew you had to put some sense into your man, but fuck, did you love him so goddamn much.

Well?

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

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[whitedarkmoonflower]

Sebastian Stan as Winter Soldier Captain America: Civil War (2016)

[burney-the-nugget]

I never understand making Bucky a bottom in a relationship. Maybe pre war yes but post winter soldier? Absolutely not. This man just spent decades being tortured and brainwashed and probably also sexually abused. I don’t think this man would ever be comfortable no matter how much recovery with having someone be in charge of him again, even more if he was sexually abused.

This absolutely applies to every ship.

Edit: I’m talking about people who write Bucky as a like a submissive bottom im fine with power bottom

Edit 2: for me personally the fact that he had for 70 years no control of his life and no choice in the things he wanted to do plays a big role in this discussion. I’m not trying to say this is how victims of sexual abuse would act. I’m also starting that buckys character because of what happened is not comfortable with having someone in charge of him.

Edit 3: after a nice discussion I had in the comments. I get certain visions of Bucky being a bottom but I hope most people understood that I complain about the fanfics that write it in this he’s a very submissive bottom and like not a gentle top but like a actual like dominant top where it’s just this sexual drive and often lacks this gentleness. I myself have come across very few fanfics that go into this healthy gentle dynamic and that’s why this option came for me personally.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Firsts

Bucky Barnes x reader smut

Summary: Bucky takes your virginity.

You hadn’t planned for tonight to be the night. It just… happened. Not because of pressure. Not because of expectation. But because Bucky looked at you like the world began and ended in your eyes, and because when he touched your hand, it felt like safety. He noticed the shift in your breathing before you even said anything. “You okay?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, so tender it made your heart ache. You nodded, then hesitated. “I’ve never… I mean—” You felt ridiculous even saying it out loud, but his expression didn’t falter. Not once. There was no surprise, no smirk, no awkward pause.

Just a quiet, “Okay,” and then, “Thank you for telling me.” Bucky leaned in and kissed your forehead. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever.”

“But I do want to,” you whispered. “I want you.” That made something in his chest tighten. You could see it in the way he exhaled, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. He kissed you then, slow and full of promise. His hands stayed gentle, his movements patient. There was no rush in him. No expectation. Only reverence. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured against your skin. “Tell me what feels good, what doesn’t. We stop the second you need to, alright?” You nodded, overwhelmed with how safe you felt in his arms.

He undressed you like you were something precious. Like this wasn’t just sex—it was a moment, a memory he wanted to protect. Every touch was soft. Every kiss was grounding. He asked permission with every step: “Is this okay?” “You still good?” “You’re doing so well for me sweetheart.” Every button, every inch of skin revealed, he treated like something sacred. His lips followed his fingers—down your neck, over your chest, kissing each breast with a reverence that made your breath catch.

There was a nervous flutter in your stomach, but it wasn’t fear. Not with Bucky. Not when he looked at you like this—like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Like you were something he wasn’t quite sure he deserved to touch, but would never take for granted. “Are you sure?” he asked again, lips brushing against your jaw as his hands stroked down your sides, slow and steady. “You just say the word, and I’ll stop. Doesn’t matter how far we go.”

You nodded, voice barely a whisper. “I want this, Bucky. I want you.” His mouth curved, not cocky—just soft. Adoring. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding past your lips as he eased you back onto the bed. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, pulling him closer.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice husky, vibrating against your skin. “You know that?” You tried to laugh, but it came out more like a gasp when his mouth closed around your nipple. His tongue flicked, slow and teasing, while his hand trailed down between your thighs. “I’m gonna make this good for you,” he said, voice low and thick with restraint. “Gonna go slow. You tell me everything you feel, okay? If anything hurts, or if you want more.”

You were already trembling by the time his fingers found you—soft, slick, so responsive to every gentle press.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, his mouth trailing hot down your stomach. “You’re already so wet for me, baby.” He didn’t rush. Two fingers stroked over your folds, circling your clit until your hips lifted for more. He watched your face the whole time, drinking in every sound, every little gasp that slipped from your lips. And when his fingers finally slipped inside you—slow, careful, deep—he whispered, “That okay?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. More, please.”

He prepped you carefully, curling his fingers just right, listening to the way your body responded, never once pushing too fast. When he finally pulled back and lined himself up above you, his expression shifted—like the weight of what this meant hit him all over again. “I need you to look at me,” he said, cupping your face, eyes locked to yours. “You trust me?”

“Completely.”

“Good. Then hold on to me, baby.”

One of your hands held his arm while the other held onto his neck, he leaned down to leave a soft, bruising kiss on your lips as he slowly dragged the tip of his cock along your entrance to gather your wetness before he slowly pushed in. You choked back a moan as you feel every inch push deeper and deeper into you.

And when it finally happened, when he was finally pushed every inch deep inside you, he stayed still, brushing his nose against yours, waiting for your body to settle, for your heart to catch up. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “So good for me. baby doll.”

The stretch burned at first. Not unbearable, but new. Full. Bucky stayed with his forehead pressed to yours, letting you adjust, letting your body relax around him. “You feel so good,” he whispered. “So warm. So tight. I-Fuck, you’re perfect.” He kissed you again, and when you nodded for him to move, he did—slow, deep thrusts that made your breath hitch, your nails dig lightly into his back. He whimpered against your lips and started to whisper every sweet thing that crossed his mind.

“That’s it, baby.” “You’re doing so good for me.” “Taking my cock so fucking well.” His voice was all heat and tenderness, grounding you as your body grew slick with sweat and need.

It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t rough. Just his hips rocking into you, one of his hands moving down your body to rub small, deliberate circles on your clit while his other hand laced with yours, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. And when you finally came—shivering under him, head thrown back, mouth parted, clenching him so tight he struggled to continue his movement—he followed with a low groan, spilling deep inside you, his body pressed tight to yours as he rode it out with one last slow thrust. After, he didn’t pull away. He stayed curled around you, fingers stroking gently through your hair, lips ghosting over your temple.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, voice hoarse and raw. You smiled, still catching your breath. “I’m more than okay.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you lay there like that—limbs tangled, breath slowly evening out, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex and something more tender. Bucky didn’t move right away. His arm stayed curled under your neck, keeping you close, and his other hand ran gentle lines down your back, skin to skin. He kissed your hair once, then again, not saying anything yet—just there, in the moment with you.

Eventually, you shifted a little, just enough to look up at him. His eyes were already on you. “Still okay?” he asked, quiet but clear. “You’re not hurting?”

“No,” you whispered. “Not hurting. Just… kinda full. In like every way.” That made him smile. A little crooked, a little shy. Like it meant something to him too. Because it did. “I’m gonna grab a towel, alright? Just for cleanup. Don’t move.” He pulled out of you slowly, aware of the sensitivity and mess that was created. You let him go, already missing his warmth the moment he left the bed. But he was back in seconds, a warm damp cloth in hand, moving carefully as he cleaned you up—tender and wordless, checking your face for every reaction. He didn’t rush. Didn’t let anything feel clinical or detached.

“This okay?” he murmured, brushing gently between your thighs. You nodded, cheeks still warm, struggling to find your voice. “Yeah. Thank you Jamie.” He kissed your knee when he finished, blushing slightly from hearing the nickname fall from your lips before he tossed the cloth aside, and climbed back into bed. This time, he pulled the covers up over both of you and wrapped his arms around you tight. You melted into him instantly, your face tucked into the space beneath his collarbone, your fingers tracing the curve of his ribs.

Neither of you spoke for a while. There was no need. Bucky was the one who broke the silence, voice low, a little hoarse. “I know that was your first,” he said. “But it didn’t feel like something small to me. I just need you to know that, I'm honored you trusted me with something so vulnerable.” You swallowed, fingers tightening against his skin.

“It didn’t feel small to me,” you murmured. “It felt… safe. Like I was finally with someone who saw me. All of me.” Bucky exhaled shakily, then pressed a kiss to your temple. “I see you, sweetheart. Every piece. And I’m not going anywhere.” He held you long into the night. No pressure. No expectations. Just skin on skin, breath syncing, hearts steady and slow. Eventually, your eyes drifted closed, lulled by the way he rubbed soft circles into your hip, by the feeling of his chest rising and falling under your cheek. And just before sleep claimed you, you heard him whisper into your hair: “You were my first too. First person who’s ever made me feel whole.”

If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

Tagging:

@luannastylinsonlupin

@rockmelikeahurricaneee

@freakyflora

@nishinoyastoes

@zzz000eee

@nubecita040

[emeraldserenade]

It's father's day, can we get a dad joaquin fic??

-🐞

Father's Day ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: It's Joaquín's first father's day

tw: fem!reader, wife!reader, daughter's name is Esperanza because I firmly believe Joaquín would name his daughter after his mom if he could, suggestive, alludes to sex, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi, 🐞!! Yes you can have a dad Joaquín fic!! And just an update, I ended up at the ER at 12am and was there until 4 because I was nonstop puking for hours yesterday evening. However, they gave me morphine which let me relax enough for the stone to pass. I'm now just dealing with a UTI (not uncommon to get with kidney stones) and some soreness in my muscles. I watched Thunderbolts* today!! I'm offically taking requests for the characters from there, except Walker. No hate to him, I just personally do not want to write for him at the moment.

➽──────────────❥

You had big plans for Joaquín's first official father's day, your baby was born only a week after father's day last year. With an almost 1 year old, you weren't sure how much you could actually do out and about, so you had everything planned for in the house.

It started at 7am when you woke up to not only feed your baby, but also make breakfast for Joaquín. You put your baby back to bed, she had fallen asleep while you were cooking, and made your way to your room. Joaquín was awake and in the bathroom when you walked in so you waited.

"Happy Father's Day, Quino," you smiled as he walked out of the bathroom, his grey sweatpants dangerously low.

"Morning, mami," he pressed a kiss to your temple before taking the plate and cup of orange juice from your hands. You walked with him to the bed and sat down next to him.

"Esperanza is asleep again," you told him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Have you eaten?"

"Mmh, not yet but I will when you're done," you told him.

"Open," he held the fork with part of his waffle on it by your mouth but you shook your head gently.

"It's yours, enjoy it," you argued.

"Open your mouth, mami," he told you, his voice falling into the same domineering tone that made you a mother in the first place. You didn't argue this time as you let your jaw fall slack and Joaquín placed the waffle into your mouth. "Good girl," he kissed your head and you squeezed your thighs together a bit.

"Today is about you being a father, not trying to make you a father a second time over," you joked as you watched Joaquín finish his food.

"It can be both," he mumbled and you laughed out loud.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You ended up watching movies and playing video games with Joaquín and Esperanza all day. You offered to go out with Joaquín wherever he wanted but he swore that he was ok with just spending the day with his 'two favorite girls'.

By Esperanza's bedtime, you had successfully spent the whole day in one of Joaquín's shirts and a pair of lounge shorts while he had stuck in just his grey sweatpants. You were leaning against the door frame as you watched Joaquín rock Esperanza to sleep, a smile on his face as he gently sang to her.

Seeing your husband holding your little girl to his bare chest while gently swaying and singing made you reconsider what you said earlier in the day. You sighed as you watched him put the sleeping baby into her crib and leave the room with your hand in his. You two walked hand in hand into your room but you stopped him short as you closed the door.

"Are you tired?" You questioned, your eyes darting around his face.

"A little but I was planning on watching another movie with you, why?" Joaquín answered honestly. You stepped closer to him, slipping your hand out of his to wrap both arms around his neck. You pulled him into a kiss before humming against them and pulling away.

"Want another baby?"

"Right now? Cause we can make one right now if you want to."

"Yes, baby, right now," you laughed. "God you sounded so serious, like you were on a mission," you joked, pressing your lips to his again.

"I am, a mission to get you pregnant again, mami," he whispered against your lips before leading you to bed.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[bananaboatmobile]

“Oh my god,” Peter said, staring slack-jawed at the vehicle.

“Yeah, kid? Like what you see?” Tony grinned.

Peter stuttered, his eyes so wide they might pop out. “Yes—I—it’s just—this car is worth more than me.”

Tony frowned. He grabbed the kid by the shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes. “Nothing is worth more than you, kid.”

Peter’s cheeks blushed a deep cherry red. He stared at Tony, dumbfounded. “Th-thanks, Mr. Stark.”

Tony cleared his throat, averting his gaze and leaving Peter with an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Yes, well. Cars decrease in value. Children are an investment, or whatever.”

Peter’s lips twitched. Here was the mentor he knew and loved. “Sure, Mr. Stark.”

[waywardsou2]

I can't stop thinking about the fact that after Thunderbolts the 6 of them could have parted ways, sure Alexei and Yelena would have kept in touch and Bob and Yelena might have stuck together for a while. But they could have left one another at the end and never looked back. Said "fuck you" to Valentina and went their sperate ways. They did not have to listen to Valentina because they already had their names cleared thanks to their effort in saving the city (at least from a public standpoint)

But no, they choose to move into the Avengers Tower, set up the place so that they could live in it and stay together for the next 14 MONTHS, they choose to do that. They choose to stay together, they didn't leave when they could have and i think that's all a part of their own fears of being abandoned. They collectively thought "I'll stay with whoever else stays" which meant that they stuck together as an silent unanimous decision...

And I think about that all the time