Oh No Please Dont Pin My Wrists Above My Head And Prevent Me From Moving While You Kiss My Neck And Whisper

It's my favourite too

I really like that stealth suit from [Winter Soldier], the navy blue one in the opening. That was my favorite one. It was so cool and it moved well and I could breathe. It was just great. - Chris Evans

So cute

the shots and the photographer 📸

Bucky is so cute wtf.

win you over | bucky barnes

bucky x fem!reader

warnings: adult content minors dni (mxf intercourse, dirty talk, bathroom sex??) swearing, mentions of death, guns, slight mention of ptsd

a/n: special shout-out to @everybirdfellsilent // @kyberblade bc as always u hype me up and now i’m posting this. HOPE U ALL LIKE IT!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Bucky? You nearly ready?” He hears your voice outside his door, and nearly trips over with how fast he moves to let you in. When he swings it open, your eyes take their time, travelling his suited figure up and down. “Damn. You clean up nice.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He manages, seeing the thin material shaping every curve of your body. “Good thing I can throw a punch. Might be beating off more than Hydra agents with you in that dress.”

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Daddy issues playing rn

Pliant

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: Every now and then, Tony needs you to help clear his head while he’s working.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT. TW: Somnophilia (consensual).

WC: 1.5K

A/N: Well, howdy. Here's a kinky treat for kinktober. Heed the warnings, please!!

MASTERLIST

Like a messy notebook with notes scribbled in the margins, sometimes Tony’s head got a bit crowded.

It was a rare occurrence - usually he was good at keeping track of his thoughts, or leaning on the assistance of his AI to catalogue his quick-fire ideas as they tumbled out of his mouth. Yet, on those particularly manic nights, when he was under a time crunch or running on a ridiculously unhealthy amount of sleep, things got lost. His ideas got snowed in beneath new ones.

He glanced at the time in the corner of his monitor. It was late - after midnight. He’d been holed up in the lab for over twenty-four hours, only taking a swift break in the afternoon to shower and eat (at your firm insistence). But he’d been rooted in the same problem for over an hour now and at this rate, he’d be backtracking through his voice logs with JARVIS to identify what it was that he’d been thinking but hadn’t said out loud and-

Well. There was a much more simple, quicker solution than that. Something that was a sure-fire way to clear the cobwebs in his brain.

“J, is she awake?” He asked, tapping out a staccato rhythm on his thighs.

The AI didn’t respond for a moment or two, and Tony sweared to fuck that the asshole was judging him. “No, she is currently in bed. Her heart rate indicates that she is asleep.”

He pulled up the camera surveillance of your shared bedroom. You’d left the lamp on. The sheets obscured most of your body, save for your upper back where he could see your bare shoulders. His lips pursed while he considered his options. There was something that you’d mentioned recently - something that had played on his mind that he was definitely intrigued by.

“You know…” You worried at your lower lip, shy eyes focused on where your fingers were working at loosening his tie. “You’re always coming to bed so late at night. And- well… I think that it’d be really fucking sexy if you got me worked up in my sleep..?” Your voice trailed up in the form of a question, unsure of what his response would be. “Just - I don’t know - the thought of waking up with your fingers, or shit, your cock inside of me… and knowing that you’d been playing with me while I was asleep…” You sighed dreamily, gaze flicking up to his own briefly before darting away again. “The thought kind of turns me inside out.”

He watched your sleeping form, his cock twitching at the thought of going up there and- He pushed himself out of his chair and started for the bedroom.

He took his shoes off before he ascended the stairs, his steps near-silent as he entered the bedroom, and quietly closed the door behind himself. His heart was racing. Despite the fact that you’d told him this was something you wanted, he couldn’t help but feel sneaky. Like he was breaking the rules. He crouched down at your side of the bed and carefully peeled the sheets off your body, biting down onto his tongue as your bare ass came into view. The way your leg was hitched up meant that your slit was right there for him to touch. He ran a warm hand over your even warmer hip, feeling your silky skin beneath his calloused fingertips. God, you were so fucking sexy. He’d never get enough of you - he was sure of that.

He sucked two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit before gently - so fucking gently - running a fingertip up your slit. He expected you to snap awake at any moment. He wanted to make this good for you; play things out the way that you’d described to him. He continued to carefully run his fingers up and down your slit, his pressure turning a bit more firm when you didn’t stir from your slumber. He could see the way your body naturally reacted to his touch, your sticky slick seeping out and making the glide of his fingers smoother, easier.

He had to bite down onto the knuckle of his free hand when he pressed a finger inside of you. Jesus Christ, you were so hot and silky. Each brush of his fingers, every quiet, wet sound, was seemingly amplified in the otherwise silent room. He slowly fucked you with one finger, palming at himself through his jeans when your body produced more and more slick, until pressing a second finger inside was an almost effortless squeeze.

“Mmm…”

He froze at the quiet sound, fingers buried inside of you to the hilt and eyes flicking up to your face.

You were still asleep: expression lax, lips slightly parted. “You dreaming about me baby?” He whispered, curling his fingers and huffing quietly at the way your hips lazily rolled into the feeling. “Fucking hell…”

He withdrew his fingers and spread wetness to your clit, lightly circling the bud as he palmed at his now rock-hard cock through his pants. Your breaths were turning a little bit heavier. He knew that you’d wake up soon.

He pulled his hand away and stood to strip himself of his clothes, wrapping a hand around his cock and biting down into his lip to contain his moan of satisfaction. Then, carefully rolling your body to provide himself with access, he ran the head of his dick along your dripping cunt. His eyes stayed on your face, waiting for a reaction that never came.

Slowly, oh, so fucking slowly, he guided himself into of you, eyes rolling back as you enveloped him inch by wet-warm inch.

“Oh. Ohhh…” Your moan was more present. He watched your eyes flutter open, the realisation dawning on your face before you let out the sweetest, neediest whine and hitched your leg higher up on the bed. “Oh my fucking- Tony yes.”

“Well hi, sleeping beauty,” he rasped, his voice gravelly and overwhelmed as he grinded in deep, “Nice of you to join me.”

He began to fuck you with slow, steady thrusts, allowing your mind to process the feeling. But fuck, you were so pliant - so relaxed, having just woken up - that the glide of his cock was so smooth it sent tingles up his spine. The needy sound you let out made his hips snap forward with a bit more force than he’d intended. “You love the thought of me using this pretty pussy whenever I want, don’t you?” He growled, picking up his pace. “Should’ve seen how quick you were to get worked up on my fingers. How easy it was for me to get you wet.”

You looked over your shoulder at him with pleading eyes, your brow creased with an overwhelmed frown, and the sight nearly did him in. He groaned and withdrew his cock, roughly taking hold of your leg and rolling you onto your back. He tugged your body so that you were laid out on the edge of the mattress before sliding back inside of you, the change in angle making you cry out. Each rock forward made your tits bounce, your hands moving to the bedsheets where you held on tight.

“I’m gonna come,” you whined, your neck strained with the tension of your building release. He reached down to roll your clit beneath the pad of his thumb, the slippery touch clumsy because of how fucking soaked you were. Jesus Christ. You were a fucking dream.

“That’s it,” he grunted, his thighs hitting your skin with resounding smacks, “Come for me. Show me how much you love being my little fuck toy.” His voice was strained as he fought to hold back his own release, deep and gravelly at how wonderfully wrecked you looked.

You shouted as you peaked, your body curling in on itself and clenching down at the force of the feeling. You squeezed so tight and perfect around his cock that it ripped his orgasm from him, milked his cock until his mind was blank of everything but pure pleasure.

And with that clarity of mind - that perfect silence - came the revelation he’d be chasing.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, jerking his hips forward as though punctuating the dual physical and mental relief. “Jesus, baby. You’re perfect. Such a perfect little toy.”

You reached out for him, your eyes dazed and needy, and he went to you without hesitation. He sighed out through his nose as he kissed you - licked into your mouth greedily and possessively. He felt your fingers card back through his hair, the feeling sparking against the aftershocks that prickled down his spine.

“You gonna come to bed?” You breathed, your voice warm puffs against his lips.

He looked down at your soft eyes, rolled his hips once more just to feel you squeeze around his sensitive cock. He hadn’t been planning to go to sleep. Rather, he’d just figured out how to jump the hurdle that was keeping him from completing his work in the lab. But- you had the sweetest look in your eyes. Your hands were toasty against the sides of his neck. And god, how could he say ‘no’ to you?

“Yeah, baby,” he hummed, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. Work could wait until the morning.

TAGS: @another-stark-sub @letsby @mostly-marvel-musings @boop-le-snoot @slothspaghettiwrites @littlegasps @agustdowney @suchababie @elemephstudies @rdjesus4ever @slut4tonystark @slytherintothedeep @rogerslaufeysonn @mr-tony-stark @tonystarkscumslutz @thran-duils @toekneestark @honestlytootiredforthis @pastelasagna

stunning handsome loml

Boyfriend!Bucky AHHHHHHH

baby- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: it’s really all fluff, just intense mutual pining and flirting

about: request! Bucky and reader have tension with their crush on each other but are too stubborn to make a move. One day reader calls him by his Initials (B.B) in conversation but Bucky mishears it as “baby” and had to do a double take ?

you don’t seem to realize the blue eyes on you as you strap knives to your thighs, checking your weapons before you move to hide them along your body. cerulean irises follow your every movement, dragging on the shape of your thighs as you snap a gun into place on your hip. sam can notice you’ve caught him by the way you seem to take longer to adjust the holster along your thigh, running your fingers along your suit-covered skin longer than he’s ever seen you take.

bucky seems entranced, eyeing your hands as they move with sharp blades as you observe them in the light, a gentle index trailing over the sharp side, your lip quirking when you’re satisfied. he follows your hand as it goes to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then as it loads a gun.

sam thinks how great you are with weapons is hot, too, but he doesn’t spend the entire quinjet ride staring at you.

he elbows bucky, raising an eyebrow at him when he finally tears his attention off of you—a few seconds late, might sam add. “you’re staring,” sam lets him know.

bucky shrugs, “she’s my friend.”

“she’s mine, too. ‘don’t catch me starin’ at her, do you?”

bucky turns back to you, “not since last time.”

sensing sam on the verge of responding like a smart ass, bucky stands, stepping over to you, swiping one of your favorite knives from the table next to you. your eyes only flicker up to him to make sure it is him before you look back down at the gun you’re cleaning, a smile making its way to your face.

“why don’t you do this before missions? like a responsible adult?” bucky asks, beginning to twirl the knife in his hands, you can’t help how your eyes catch on the movements of his fingers, breath catching for a moment before you force yourself to pay attention to what you’re doing.

“like you?” you ask, shaking your head when he shrugs.

“hardly’d call you a ‘responsible adult,’” you grin, remembering a few weeks prior, when bucky had set out all of the things he was planning on using today to clean since he “hadn’t in a while.” you can also recall him sticking his metal fingers in the toaster and nearly electrocuting himself, having to make his way to shuri shortly after.

bucky grunts, stopping his playing with your knife, “now why wound me like that, doll?”

you laugh, putting the gun you were cleaning and reaching for your dagger, grabbing the blade half and poking bucky in the chest with the handle, “i can’t wound you any worse than you can wound yourself, mister i-get-myself-stabbed-every-three-days.”

“worth it to see you play nurse. you get cute all worried.” your face heats, shaking your head.

“yeah? maybe i should get stabbed then, see how cute you are.”

“no, no, no, no getting stabbed. i’ll spend every second right next to you if i hav’ta to make sure.”

“good,” you nod, “i’m planning on doing that anyways seeing your history.”

“and i’m irresistible and you’re unable to say away,” bucky adds with a wink.

“that, too.”

-

natasha raises a groomed eyebrow at the sight of you and bucky behind the island in the kitchen, cocking her head as she observes you offer a spoon of nutella to the super soldier. from her place on the couch, she purses her lips when you dip your finger in the chocolate, about to lick it off yourself when bucky suddenly does it for you. you laugh, lightly pushing him away and teasingly reprimanding him with the spoon in your hand. bucky shrugs, his eyes dragging over the way you take the spoon for yourself, continuing to do what you were.

shaking her head, natasha turns back, deciding she has to do something about you two if the both of you continue like this as you have for the past few months. as sweet as it was to see the two people who most deserved love get it, it was getting painful to watch you be so into each other without doing anything about it because you “weren’t sure if he feels the same way.” she’d rolled her eyes at you then, and she would now.

“bucky!” you laugh, natasha not even bothering to turn around. you blink up at bucky, accusing eyes settling on the playful glint in the sea blue of his irises. he smiles in the way that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, lets you take a peek into the teasing personality he’d gotten stripped away from him all those unfair years ago.

“oops, doll. accident,” bucky shrugs, raising a hand up to your chin again, a tender thumb reaching to swipe the chocolate he’d rubbed on you off of your nose. his palm is warm against your skin, leaving a trail of gentle heat that rushes into your cheeks.

“yeah, sure.” you scoff out, blinking away the daze you had been caught in, his lips frozen in your mind. gently shaking your head, you go back to what you were doing, “about as much of an accident as this will be.”

“what wi—”

he gets cut off by a clementine you throw at his chest, forehead crinkling, the glimmer back in his eyes as he looks down at his chest where the fruit impacted, then back up at you. nodding, he begins taking slow steps at you, immediate defensiveness falling from your lips when you realize what he’s doing.

“you started this,” you point out, beginning to back away and then quickly stumbling your way out of the kitchen when he speeds out, hands stretching out to grab at you, only able to graze your waist, his fingers curled around air. he quickens, too, chasing you out of the kitchen and leaving your snack there, laughter echoing through the compound’s halls as he catches you, spinning you around by your hips to hug you close to him and smudge more nutella on your nose.

natasha shakes her head from the couch, “idiots.”

-

the gigantic television in front of you is playing how to lose a guy in ten days, your attention only half on it but your heart fully in it as you play with bucky’s hair. his head is on your lap, watching the movie with furrowed brows, asking you questions as it goes. if he’s completely honest, he’s paid attention to maybe a third of the movie in total, and he couldn’t tell you the answers you’d told him in response to the questions he’d made up with whatever he had access to in the scene, he was only able to concentrate on the feeling of your fingers in his hair and just wanted to hear your voice.

the popcorn bag next to his head crinkles when you stick your hand inside, shoulders dropping when you realize it’s empty, “can you make some more popcorn?”

“uh huh,” bucky hums, barely registering the question until you remove your touch and he realizes he has to get up. internally groaning becausw he didn’t realize it, he stands, stretching.

“d’you want me to pause it?”

“no need, doll, you can explain if anything important happens. sounds better in your voice anyways.”

you roll your eyes, reaching for your glass of water, the cold crystal up to your lips when you realize you’re nearly finished with it. you lean back, “bb, can you also get me some more water, please?”

you’re too concentrated on the lines in the movie to catch the moment of silence from bucky’s end, his brows furrowed as he processes your words, baby? as in boyfriend baby?

“uh, sure, angel,” he replies awkwardly, cringing at himself for being so slow at his response.

you choke on the last of the water when you hear the term of endearment, a hand coming up to your chest, “what?” you croak, turning to him. you’d only ever heard him call you doll, something that drove you insane already, but you figured was something casual for him, but angel? hell, your boyfriends hadn’t said anything sweeter than babe.

“i said—sure, i’ll get you some water,” bucky replies, hesitant in repeating the nickname even if you started it.

“you called me angel,” you explain slowly, “that’s very… boyfriend-y?-”

“you called me babe!” bucky defends, “that’s in girlfriend one-oh-one.”

“i didn’t—”

“i don’t mind it, i think i actually like it better than bucky.”

your arguments die on your tongue, your face heating immediately, only able to let out a strangled sound, “gh.”

“what?”

“bb,” you repeat when you get your bearings, “bucky barnes, bee, bee? your initials?”

“oh,” bucky realizes quietly, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, “oh.”

“but,” you start nervously, “if you say you don’t mind…”

“are ya sure yer not dating (y/n)?” osamu suddenly asks his brother during a quiet lunch between the two of them.

atsumu chokes on the grains of rice in his mouth, coughing violently and punching his chest. when he finally settles down, he throws a glare at his brother. “what the hell, ‘samu?”

“that’s not an answer.” osamu continues to press.

“we’re not!” atsumu answers, picking up a piece of chicken katsu with his chopsticks. “i don’t like them like that. they don’t like me like that. we’re just friends.”

the bright red-pink of his ears speak otherwise. you see, osamu knows his twin better than he knows himself. he knows that whatever comes out of atsumu’s mouth is a load of crap. just friends? yeah fucking right.

osamu has never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looks at you, starlight and pure adoration swirling in his irises. he acts as if your every word were an earth-shaking prophecy sent by the heavens. his honey brown eyes stare, and he smiles so gently that it makes him sick.

friends aren’t touchy in the way you guys are. you hold each other’s hand like it’s nothing. with interlocked fingers, atsumu will trace his thumb down the back of your hand for no apparent reason. when you’re bored, you’ll take atsumu’s hand into your lap and play with it, bending his fingers, comparing hand sizes, and running a featherlight touch across the expanse of his palm to see if he’ll react.

osamu notices how you never miss the opportunity to find a seat on his brother’s lap. whether there are no seats of available or ten open ones, you will always choose atsumu. and it’s not like he’s complaining about it. in fact, osamu thinks that he waits for it because atsumu would never want to miss the chance to secure his arms around your waist and whisper into your ear amidst a loud conversation.

and you can’t forget the cuddles, and the hugs that linger longer than they should, and the way you’ll cup atsumu’s face, and the way you play with his piss blond hair.

you’re the one person atsumu lets wear his jersey to his game. he ensures you get the best seat to watch him play. osamu doesn’t miss the way his twin looks at you before every serve or the way you cheer the loudest when he scores an ace.

osamu doesn’t think that someone who “doesn’t like you” would be thinking about you every time they shop. “(y/n) likes this snack”. “(y/n) would love this shirt”. “oh hey, (y/n) showed me this”. “‘samu, should i buy this for (y/n)?”.

osamu has never seen two people so madly in love before. he doesn’t know how you guys haven’t realized it yet. and he can’t keep playing along because atsumu’s katsu looks really good right now.

“right…” osamu chooses to answer, dipping his chicken into the tonkatsu sauce. “i sure hope they’re gonna have fun on that date they have today.”

his brother’s chopsticks clatter onto the table before rolling onto the floor. the sight of atsumu’s open mouth filled with rice is unsightly, and osamu has to suppress his laugh.

“they didn’t tell you?” osamu raises an eyebrow.

“no?!” atsumu suddenly stands, slamming his palms into the table.

“yeah, i think they’re gonna leave soon.” osamu lies easily. there is no date. but of course, does ‘tsumu really need to know that?

the blond twin practically bolts away from the dining table and out of the house. when the door slams shut, osamu grins to himself, reaching for the unfinished plate in front of him.

“he can thank me later.”

atsumu brainrot never ends. something short and sweet bc school is kicking my ass.

Makes me wanna touch his hair on god.

Layered brush work

Available on Redbubble!

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WHAT DID I SAYYYY I WANT MOREEE

You’ve Got Us (Requested)

Cullen Reader (Marvel x Twilight Fic)

Word Count: 1100 // Rating: Gen

Warnings: none, fights, cullen reader. friendships,

Summary:  Reader (A Cullen) needs to go back home to help her 

Note: This is a requested fic one of a couple by @fandomnationwhore The others will take a day or two i really got into the volturi one

@fandomnationwhore Sort of going to blow up your request box for a while so expect me around a lot, anyways; request for twilight x marvel crossover. The reader is a vampire (she’s a Cullen) and she explains to the team (she’s hired as a secretary by Fury to keep an eye on them) anyways, she explains she’s a vampire and how she’s taking a break from work to visit her family

Sort of going to blow up your request box for a while so expect me around a lot, anyways; request for twilight x marvel crossover. The reader is a vampire (she’s a Cullen) and she explains to the team (she’s hired as a secretary by Fury to keep an eye on them) anyways, she explains she’s a vampire and how she’s taking a break from work to visit her family

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I LOVE IT WHEN JJK AND HAIKYUU CONVERGE

“Are… Are you sure that you don’t want me to go with you?” 

At Choso’s question, Yuuji Itadori stops packing his bag for school and turns to face him. Is he nervous? Of course, but he’s in high school now. If he doesn’t start doing things on his own now, then he never will. After placing one of the bag’s straps on one shoulder, he gives him an easy smile. “I’ll be fine, aniki,” he says softly. “I promise.” 

His older brother doesn’t look too convinced, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he smiles in return and ruffles his pink hair. “Alright, have a good first day. Call me if you need anything.”

Yuuji rides to school on his bike—a neat birthday present from his uncle Sukuna. That guy is wild and reckless, but anyone could tell that he had a soft spot for both Yuuji and Choso, and made sure that they had everything that they needed. When he arrives, he maneuvers his way through crowds of equally-nervous first years, already being approached by second and third years looking for members to join their clubs that meet after school. Choso recommended to Yuuji that he join a club, but he didn’t know exactly which one to join. 

A boy his age walks past him, and Yuuji stops, his eyes slightly widening as he takes in the sight of him. Though he’s wearing a uniform like everyone else, Yuuji decides that it looks the best on him. He’s tall and fair-skinned, and his dark hair is spiky—a little messy, too, but it looks good. His eyes—the prettiest pair that Yuuji has ever seen in his fifteen years of living—are a dark blue and framed with long lashes, and Yuuji’s immediately trying to memorize the exact shade. 

Whoa. 

He wants to say hi, but he notices the headphones on the boy’s ears. Should he introduce himself? Hi, I’m Yuuji Itadori. I think you’re pretty- What? No, that’s ludicrous. Hey, dude, I’m Yuuji, we should totally be friends, by the way you’re cute. Ugh, still a bit ridiculous. He needs to think of something different. Maybe-

“Hey, don’t hit it over there! The door’s wide open!!” A student from inside the gymnasium shouts, and suddenly, a sports ball flies in the direction of the boy Yuuji’s been stupidly staring at. It’s coming too fast, and when Yuuji warns him, it’s not loud enough for him to hear over his music. 

Thinking quickly, Yuuji dashes and then jumps high, slamming the ball away before it could hit him in the head. Because of it, he crashes into him, and they both fall to the ground. The boy underneath him groans, and Yuuji gasps, scrambling to his feet and holding out a hand to help him up. “I’m so sorry!” He says, a little breathless from his running and from how cute this dark-haired boy is, “That ball was going to hit you, and um, I tried calling out to you but your headphones were on. Are you alright?!” 

He blinks a couple of times, then looks over at the ball, which another student is retrieving, a little stunned from watching Yuuji hit it. “I’m alright,” he mumbles. “Thank you.” He gently grabs his hand, and Yuuji pulls him up. As he watches him brush his uniform off, numerous sentences to break the ice rapidly bounce back and forth in Yuuji’s mind. Finally, he settles on one. “Uh, nice headphones.” They do look quite expensive. His parents must make a lot of money.

“Thanks,” he mumbles again. Hm, not much of a talker. 

Yuuji doesn’t mind. He flashes him his usual grin. “What’s your name?”

“Fushiguro.” 

Ah, last name. “I’m Itadori.” 

“Nice meeting you, Itadori,” he says, then readjusts the bag on his shoulder. “See you around. Thanks again.” 

“Oh, uh, see you later!” Yuuji calls as he begins to walk off, feeling very excited all of a sudden. He’ll definitely be seeing him around. 

He smiles to himself, then begins to brush off his clothes. “Fushiguro, huh?” he mutters, then becomes aware of just how heated his face was. No, just a hot day. Totally not blushing. 

“You there!!” 

Yuuji looks over to see the student that retrieved the ball he hit earlier pointing at him. “Uh… me?” he asks after looking around to see if anyone else was nearby.

“Yes, you!” The student is more on the shorter side, with bright orange hair and a determined grin. “What’s your name?” 

“Yuuji Itadori. I’m a first year.” 

“Shoyo Hinata, also a first year!” He exclaims excitedly. “Are you thinking about joining the volleyball club?! That spike was incredible!!”

-----

a/n: yuuji and shoyo would've been the BEST of friends. the way i screamed when reading jjk265 and learning that yuuji grew up in (or around?) sendai. his ass should've been at karasuno worrying about making it to nationals instead of fighting these damn curses lmfaoooo