No Goggles Mark Likes Being Choked While You Ride Him. That’s It.

hi lovely! could i request a bucky barnes x female reader fic where the reader is on her period and comes home absolutely exhausted from a long day at work? she's crampy, moody, and just DONE. but bucky is the sweetest and takes care of her in all the best ways (wink wink). a little comforting + spicy combo? soft!bucky being extra gentle and attentive would be amazing. thank you!

NSFW CONTENT BELOW

warning for period sex if that makes you uncomfy. (the blood descriptions aren't really graphic but just in case!)

the door clicked softly as you stepped inside, the quiet of your apartment a stark contrast to the chaos of your day. the relentless meetings, the endless emails, the pressure of deadlines, everything had piled up, and the world felt like it was leaning just a little too heavily on your shoulders. and to make matters worse, your period had hit hard today, with cramps that had you feeling like you were being twisted in every direction.

you kicked off your shoes at the door, your limbs heavy and exhausted, the only thing on your mind being the thought of curling up on the couch and disappearing into a world of blankets and comfort. you barely had the strength to take off your jacket before you heard his voice from the other room.

“hey,” bucky’s voice called, warm and inviting. “you home?”

“yeah,” you muttered, letting out a long sigh as you leaned against the doorframe. the world felt like it was spinning, and you just couldn’t muster the energy to fake being okay.

bucky appeared from the living room, a soft smile on his face. his eyes softened immediately when they landed on you. his hands, usually so confident and steady, seemed to reach out for you with a tenderness you could never get used to. it was usually like this with him. his care never came in bursts, it was always consistent, unwavering.

“long day?” he asked, the concern clear in his voice as he crossed the room toward you.

“yeah,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with the heel of your palm. “just... a lot. and cramps. ugh, it’s just... too much.”

he immediately moved toward you, his hands going to your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. you hadn’t even realized how tense you were until his touch made you aware of it. he was always so in tune with you, reading the unspoken signals you never even realized you were sending.

“you want to sit down?” he asked softly, already guiding you toward the couch. you nodded in gratitude, feeling your body practically melt against his gentle insistence. as you sat, he moved to grab a throw blanket, draping it across your lap. his touch was tender, like he was handling something fragile, though you didn’t feel fragile in his care, just loved.

bucky had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, even in your most exhausting moments. he didn’t need to say much; his presence alone was enough. he knew when you wanted space, when you needed silence, and when you needed his comforting touch.

“how about i make us some tea?” he suggested, his voice low and comforting. “i could use a little break, too. you want some ginger or chamomile? or both?”

your smile was small, but it felt like the first real one all day. “chamomile sounds perfect.”

he nodded, he disappeared into the kitchen. you listened to the quiet sound of him moving around, the clink of mugs, the soft hum of the kettle. it was nice. simple. it was the kind of sound that made you feel like you were exactly where you needed to be.

bucky returned moments later, his hands carefully carrying two steaming mugs. he sat next to you, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he didn’t want to disturb the fragile peace between you. he handed you one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

“how’s the back, sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes searching your face.

“better now that i’m sitting down,” you said, leaning back into the cushions, feeling the warmth of the blanket and tea start to ease your discomfort.

bucky watched you for a moment, his brows knitting together with a protective concern. he’d seen you struggle with this before, but he could never quite get used to the sight of you not feeling like yourself.

“i know it’s not much,” he said softly, his fingers brushing through your hair, “but if there’s anything i can do to help, just let me know.”

his words, simple as they were, were a balm to your soul. you didn’t even realize how much you needed to hear them until he said them. he didn’t expect anything from you, didn’t push you to talk or make you feel like you had to smile. he just gave. and that was more than enough.

“i just need you here, buck,” you whispered, leaning into him a little more, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

bucky immediately wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his embrace warm and grounding. his fingers traced slow circles along your arm, the motion rhythmic and soothing. he didn’t speak for a while, just letting you lean against him and drink your tea in quiet comfort.

the silence wasn’t awkward. not with him. it was the kind of silence that said everything and nothing at once. a peaceful, unspoken understanding between the two of you that you didn’t need words to be comfortable in each other’s company.

“tell me if you want something more, baby,” bucky murmured after a while, his voice a little raspy. his thumb continued its slow, calming circles on your arm. “anything at all.”

you hummed softly, a content sound. “'m good..”

his eyes softened as he looked down at you, his lips pulling into a gentle smile. he didn’t respond with words, just tightened his arm around you in a way that made you feel safe and cared for. his warmth was a shield against the world outside, and in his arms, you could finally let go.

“okay,” he said simply, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “just let me hold you– for as long as you need.”

you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift into the kind of quiet peace you could only find in his presence. bucky was everything you needed in this moment: patient, kind, and so incredibly thoughtful. he didn’t try to fix you, didn’t tell you to feel better or to stop being upset. he just let you be. and that, in itself, was the greatest comfort. you had everything you needed right here, in his arms. and for the first time today, everything felt okay. his touch was firm but gentle, as he rubbed soft circles over your back, the pads of his fingers tracing aimless patterns against your shoulders. he knew you probably wasn’t in the mood to talk, so he simply held you close, his heartbeat steady and reassuring. he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair.

your hands gently squeeze his big forearms, his forearms flexed automatically under your touch, the firm muscle shifting beneath your fingertips. he gave you a small smile, his hands continuing to move in slow, soothing circles over your back. “you alright?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a murmur. "cramps are bad.." you mumble, your voice strained from the sharp feeling in your stomach.

his expression shifted, the lines of his face softening even further as he listened to you. he could tell that your cramps were giving you hell, and a protective instinct flared in him. he shifted you gently so that you were nestled even more closely against him, his fingers continuing their soft, rhythmic movements. he made a sympathetic sound, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against your shoulder. “i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “is there anything else i can do? heat pack? more tea?” he shifted a little, trying to get a better look at your face.

you prop your chin up onto his shoulder, giving him those pretty doe eyes. his heart softened even more at the look in your eyes, the expression so impossibly sweet that he couldn’t help but melt. he let out a soft chuckle, his hand moving to tuck stray pieces of hair behind your ear. “oh, there you go,” he murmured, voice low and affectionate. he leaned in a little, tilting his head to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. “can’t say no to those pretty eyes,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “name it, doll. tea, hot pack, back rub, foot rub- i’m yours to command.” his hand slid down to gently massage the inside of your knee.

you gently gnaw on your puffy bottom lip, debating whether to ask him, unaware if he would be comfortable. he noticed the way you were gnawing at your lip, your hesitation and need so obvious that he didn't even have to verbalize it. he could see the mix of desire and uncertainty in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking. his hand continued its gentle massaging of your knee, and he met your gaze with a soft smirk. "go ahead and ask," he murmured, his voice tender. his gaze flickered down as you nipped at your lip, and a sharp stab of desire shot through him, his fingers tightening momentarily around your knee. he swallowed a little thickly, torn between wanting to give you whatever you needed and holding back, not wanting to press you when you were in pain.

"um... well i was just wondering... well yaknow..." you nervously mumble, your eyes flicking down to his thighs.

he shifted a little, tilting your chin up so that you were forced to meet his gaze. his expression was patient and open, waiting silently for you to continue. he could read the hesitation and shyness in your body language, and he let his hand slide from your chin to cradle your jaw, his thumb absently tracing the line of your bottom lip, where you'd been biting at it. "go on," he murmured, gentle and encouraging.

"you know there's ways to relive cramps.." you shyly mumble. you hadn't done anything too nasty with him, sex was a rarity in your relationship anyway.

he caught on immediately, his hand flexed at side, fingers twitching, wanting to touch you more. he leaned in a little, the hand that was still on your knee shifting to gently squeeze it, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly rumble. "yeah?" he murmured, "and what would that involve?" he knew exactly what you were hinting at, but he just wanted to make complete sure.

you mumble his name and his heart leapt a little at the sound of his name from your mouth, soft and pleading, and the desire and tenderness in your voice had his self control fraying at the edges. his expression shifted to one of near-overwhelming adoration, his hand releasing your knee to cradle your jaw instead, thumb stroking over the soft curve of your cheekbone. his other hand slid down to your thigh, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin, and he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "i'm right here," he murmured. you kiss him. and he responded eagerly, his lips moving against yours in a slow, sensual kiss, his hand at your jaw moving to cup the back of your head, holding you close. it was a little desperate, almost as if he wanted to drown out the pain he could sense in your body, replace it with only the heady, overwhelming feeling of wanting and being wanted. he nipped gently at your bottom lip, tugging softly, before his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting the heat of your kiss and the sweetness of your desire.

it had been a long day. and all you needed was some relief. the two of you had been curled up together on the couch, lazily kissing, your body pressed against his. the warmth and the comfort of his body had a soothing effect, and the simple, easy intimacy had slowly been growing more heated, both of you craving the closeness. in a moment his hips had pushed up, slotting between your thighs, and without any words he was guiding you down onto him, your bodies joining and fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. he groaned softly, the sound deep and rough in his throat, as you sank down onto him, his head falling back against the couch. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close, and he murmured your name like a prayer, his eyes closing and his expression going utterly blissed

your body was a soft, warm weight on top of his, your skin a smooth, delicate contrast to the hard muscle and rougher scars of his own. he shifted his hips a little, his hand sliding down to grip at your thigh, a strangled gasp leaving his throat at the feeling of you wrapped around him. your blood slipped down his thick shaft, leaving it's warm mark. "god, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a quiet, rough whisper that was almost lost in the heavy, tension-filled silence of the room. he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips trailing down to bite gently at your collarbone.

he could feel the way you tensed and relaxed against him, the way your body seemed to melt as he filled you, and a wave of affection and protectiveness washed over him. as he felt the pain and tension start to ease from your body, he murmured soft, soothing words, "that's it, sweetheart, i've got you. i've got you." he shifted, his hips moving lazily underneath you, and he groaned silently as he felt you press against him, your bodies fitting together like they were made for this. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you gently but firmly in place, and he buried his face into your neck. your blood gathered into his rough pubic hair, neither fresh-cut nor forgotten, just in-between. it caught in the hair before gravity slowly guided it down his flesh. it didn’t rush. it painted. smearing across the surface of his shaft like thick ink, glinting like a dark ruby under soft light.

"stay— still—" you moan out. and he immediately obeyed your command, going perfectly still underneath you, his hands gripping you a little harder, his body tense and expectant. he let out a soft, strangled groan, the unexpectedness of your command sending a sharp jolt of need through him. he was desperate to keep moving, but he would wait and obey your every word, his eyes half lidded as he looked up at you, breathless and tense.

he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with the effort it took him to keep still. his hands flexed once, involuntarily, on your thighs, the desire to move almost overwhelming, but he forced himself to remain obedient, to do as you told him. he could feel the heat and tension building between the two of you, like electricity crackling in the air, and his head fell back against the couch cushion as he let out a low, strangled groan.

half a hour passed like this, with you sitting on his lap, his body trembling with the effort of keeping still. his expression taut with need, but he obeyed your command to remain motionless. the only sound in the room was the harsh breaths the two of you exchanged, and the occasional whine or gasp that escaped his lips. it was a slow and torturous pleasure, the sensations building and building with no release, and bucky could feel the tension and anticipation coiled tight in his stomach. finally, finally, you let him move. he didn't need to be told twice, his body moving before his mind could even catch up. his hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers pressing into your skin as he began to move beneath you. he was desperate, rough and almost feral in his movements, his control snapped clean in half as he finally, finally got the friction he craved. he let out a sharp groan, the sound low and ragged, as he found a fast and steady rhythm, his body moving with yours as he chased his pleasure. your blood came thick, still spilling slow and hot, like something torn open too suddenly. it didn't trickle it gushed, still coating his shaft in a deep, slick red that clung to his skin, and the couch. he shuddered against you, hips rocking hard against yours, a low groan came out his lips as he found his release, the pleasure washing over him in a wave so intense it had him seeing stars for a moment, his vision going white and his back arching up of the couch. his lungs screaming for air as he panted desperately, the pleasure and tension slowly easing. he fell back against the couch, body shaking slightly, the aftershocks of his release still lingering along his nerve endings. as he finally relaxed, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded, his face flushed. you're both lying still together, your bodies tangled up on the couch in a mess of limbs and bloody skin. sweat glistens on both your bodies, the smell of sex heavy in the air. between your bodies, a sticky, bloody, wet mess of release slowly oozes down both of your thighs. bucky is panting softly against your skin, his body still trying to come down from the high, his hand rubbing up and down your back in a gentle, soothing motion.

his breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the soft, shaky gasps as he tries to catch his breath, his body still trembling a little. he lets out a small, soft moan, his hand grasping at your hip, his fingers just barely pressing against the skin. he's still holding you close to him, his grip firm and protective, as if he wants to keep you close and never let you go. he's trying to find words, but he's still too speechless from the intensity of his orgasm, his mind hazy. your bodies are both still shaking a little, the aftershocks of your lovemaking still lingering on your skin. he finally speaks, his voice still gruff and rough, a low sound against the sensitive skin of your neck. "you alright?" he murmurs sweetly, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, his touch unexpectedly gentle. that rare kind of gentleness he only ever showed you.

"feel better." you mumble, a soft relieved smile on your face, your cramps subsided for now. he nodded, "good, that's good, sweetheart." he murmured, his voice a little rougher than usual, still tinged with the echoes of the intense pleasure he'd experienced just moments before. his gaze was soft and tender, his expression almost adoring as he looked up at you, his eyes drifting over your face, taking in every little detail.

you exhaled slowly, sinking into the softness of the moment, the weight of the day finally peeling away.

you brush your fingers through his hair, it was soft, a little damp with sweat, sticking up in places from your touch. a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. he leaned down, slow and unhurried, resting his head lightly on your belly. you felt him breathe there, felt the way his whole body relaxed against yours like you were home for him, too. neither of you said anything for a while. there wasn’t much that needed saying.

eventually, he shifted just enough to press a delicate kiss to your before curling up beside you, pulling the blankets over both of you with that one strong arm of his. his other hand found yours under the covers, fingers lacing without a second thought. he whispered something into your hair. you smiled, eyes fluttering shut as you sank into his warmth. bucky pressed another kiss to your temple, and then you both went quiet again, wrapped in soft blankets and softer love, the storm of the day left behind. you were tired, still, but you didn't feel alone. never with him.

thsnk god. can’t believe i survived that game.

going on a date with bucky barnes and it all goes so nicely, so sweetly, so smoothly. you both had so much fun, chemistry and a good time. he's charming, witty and he keeps flirting and complimenting you at every chance he gets. he held your hand all night long, neither of you even noticed it, it just happened naturally, your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling and both of your hearts are at ease.. that's until the date comes to an end, it's time to pay and you ask him if he wants to go 50/50.

that would be the first time he lets go of your hand that night, it's unintentional just happened out of pure shock. "50... what.." the confusion on his face, you'd think he's an alien seeing earth the first time.

"you know.. 50/50.. we'll split the bill between us"

"split the bill?" he asks and you just nod, he'd blink at you, "50/50.. splitting the bill.. what is this about, i asked you on a date"

now it's your turn to be the alien seeing earth for the first time, "we are on a date, bucky. this is a date"

"no, it's not a date."

"it is a date"

"you're asking me to split the bill, this is not a date"

"oh my god sam was right, you can be such a drama queen." you laugh, he just stares at you, blankly. "it might've been a while since the last time you went on a date so let me break it down for you.. these days, people who go on dates split the bill, they go 50/50" you shrug, "it's normal"

"it's normal? you've done it before?"

you nod, "every date i've been on has been 50/50 yeah"

bucky nearly flips the table. bucky who spent all of his three dollars in the 1940's trying to win a teddybear for a girl he had a crush on, bucky who used to save up most of his income in an old shoe box underneath his bed so he can take his girl to a nice diner, bucky who went to the florist to get you a bouquet of roses and didn't even ask for the price just handed his credit card because to him your smile is priceless, bucky is about to have a stroke.

"you've never been on a date" he says, face still blank.

"yes i have"

"no you haven't. this is your first date." he says, "i'm your first time." he smirks and you blush at the possible implication. "50/50.." he scoffs under his breath, "what else are you gonna tell me next? i should walk on the inside of the sidewalk? keep my jacket on when you're cold? sleep further from the door? not open doors for you? jesus sweetheart what has the world come to?"

you hide your smile, you love it when he rambles like that, he's so calm yet so offended all at once somehow, it's funny and endearing. "what's wrong with walking on the inside of the sidewalk?" you joke and he rolls his eyes making you laugh, "so.. no 50/50? are you sure?" you ask one last time, hands on your purse on your lap.

he keeps his eyes on you as he pays the bill, glaring playfully, gets up and pulls out your chair before putting his black leather jacket on your shoulders, "no doll," he offers you his hand which you quickly hold, intertwining your fingers with his, and opens the door with his metal hand, "no 50/50."

kelly getting a hooking penalty for doing literally the smallest tug imaginable.

okay i'm starting the new tlou episode literally right after watching dead city. today has been insane in terms of shit to watch

today’s lectionary texts—acts 5:27–32, psalm 118:14–29, revelation 1:9–11a, 12–13, 17–19, and john 20:19–31—are so densely interwoven it’s practically rabbinic. it’s the second sunday of easter, which historically functioned as a liturgical echo chamber for the resurrection. but today’s selections aren’t just liturgical filler—they’re deliberate theological architecture. acts 5:27–32 put you into a post pentecost context where peter and the apostles, fresh off their spirit induced empowerment, confront the sanhedrin. the line “we must obey god rather than men” (δεῖ ἀνθρώποις πειθαρχεῖν μᾶλλον ἢ τῷ θεῷ) is almost a second century anachronism. it anticipates martyrdom theology, rooted in texts like daniel 3 and 6, but also anticipates justin martyr and tertullian’s apologetics. it reframes civic disobedience as divine allegiance.

psalm 118 functions as a hinge text. it's the last of the hallel psalms (113–118), used during passover, which already overlays a liberation motif onto resurrection. “the stone the builders rejected” (v. 22) gets picked up in matt 21:42, mark 12:10, luke 20:17, and here again as a kind of post easter hermeneutical key. the rejected messiah becomes the cornerstone of a new ekklesia. it's also worth noting how this psalm was used in second temple processionals. what begins as royal liturgy becomes political protest. revelation 1:9–19 layers on the apocalyptic. john of patmos positions himself in exile “because of the word of god and the testimony of jesus”—a deliberate mirroring of the acts narrative. christ appears “like a son of man” (ὅμοιον υἱὸν ἀνθρώπου), drawing straight from daniel 7, but recoded with roman imperial aesthetics: golden sash, bronze feet, sword mouth. it’s not just christological—it’s anti imperial polemic. domitian’s empire is the beast; the risen christ is pantokrator. then john 20:19–31. locked room. fear. sudden appearance. peace (εἰρήνη ὑμῖν), said twice. jesus breathes on them—enephýsen—an echo of gen 2:7 and ezek 37. this is a new creation moment, a new adam breathing life into a new humanity. and thomas, often unfairly dubbed “doubting,” functions more like a johannine stand-in for the reader. he gets to touch the wound (typos), an embodied epistemology. and yet, the final beatitude—“blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed”—extends the narrative beyond history into faith. the whole text folds time like a chiasm. so yeah. today is about post resurrection defiance, counter temple theologies, radical reinterpretations of jewish liturgy, imperial subversion via apocalyptic aesthetics, and an invitation to epistemic humility. it’s theology as resistance literature.

i'm fucking crhing why does he say it like that

You guys made me say it.

landoscar + txt posts = true 6.0

clark’s 6’3 soooo yk 🙂‍↕️

“Been waiting all night for you, you know that?” As you pulled your shirt over your head, Clark's hands were already working at the buttons of his own shirt. He settled between your legs, the heat of his bare skin pressing against yours. He positioned himself at your entrance, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control. With a single, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself inside you, stretching and filling you completely.

A guttural moan escaped his lips at the sensation of your tight cunt enveloping him. He paused for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the intensity of the connection. Then he began to move, setting a relentless pace as he drove into you again and again. Clark's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he claimed you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. His lips found yours once more, kissing you deeply, hungrily, as if trying to devour you whole.

Clark leaned back, pulling you with him as he shifted positions. He brought your hips up, angling your body so that he could drive deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each powerful thrust. The new position allowed him to watch your face, to see the pleasure etched on your features as he claimed you. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he pounded into you with increasing intensity.

“You're so pretty like this, so perfect.” He could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short gasps. Clark's hips slowed slightly as he felt your body strain beneath him. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “Do you need me to stop?”

You shook your head, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, don't stop,” you managed to say. “It's just...so much.” A slow, satisfied smile spread across Clark's face.

“Takin’ me so well,” he panted, his hips picking up the pace once more. “Look at how deep I am.” His eyes ogled down to the bulge his cock was creating in your belly. With a low groan, he pressed his hand against it, feeling the hard length of himself moving within you.

His thrusts became more deliberate, more focused, as he chased his release. His hand remained on your belly, feeling the way your body yielded to his, taking every inch of him. “Give it to me baby, I wanna feel you cum.”

Clark felt your body clench around him, your inner walls pulsing and contracting as you reached your orgasm. Your cry of his name echoed in the room, a sound of pure ecstasy that made his dick twitch inside of you. Your release triggered his own, and with a final, powerful thrust, Clark buried himself deep inside you. His body tensed, his muscles coiling tight as he spilled thick ropes of cum deep within your aching cunt.

Clark rolled off of you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He couldn't help the slick smile that spread across his face as he lay beside you, his eyes stared up at the ceiling.

His mind reeled back to the bulge he created in your tummy and the way his hand had pressed against your skin, feeling himself inside you. The affirmation wrapped around him like a warm coat, feeding a part of him he rarely acknowledged. He wasn’t one to dwell on vanity, but in that moment, he couldn’t help himself.

For once, he let his ego revel, if only for a little while.