I Love Him, Your Honour 🤭🤭

yesyesyes!! @ohbuckie’s ideas >>

I’m thinking teenage Becca angst where she gets into a minor car accident and hits a pole or something bc it’s winter and slippery and she’s totally fine but the car is totaled but all Bucky hears in her phone call is “hit a pole with my car” and he’s losing it.

OKAY FUCKK (i literally did not even consider proof-reading this so if it's ass. Lol. we all have our moments i guess.)

Bucky sits next to you in bed, wearing just boxers, crew socks, and his charming wire-frame glasses. With soft muscles on display, you're thankful that Becca won't be home from her friend's house until later.

"I'm gonna smoke in a minute, if you wanna come out with me." He offers, and turns to look at you.

You stare at his lips, at his scruffy facial hair that makes him finally look like somebody's dad, and at the tattoos that creep up his neck and behind his ears. You almost forget to respond. "I'm okay tonight."

He nods in understanding and swings his legs over the side of the bed, sifting through drawers to find sweats and a hoodie to protect himself against the chilly winter weather. He takes a preroll from the nightstand drawer and leans over the bed to kiss you carefully before he steps out.

It only takes a couple of minutes before he comes back in, hysterical. He smells like weed, which is to be expected, but you know he couldn't have finished the joint he took with him so quickly.

"Bucky, what's wrong?"

"You have to drive- Rebecca crashed her car, she's-"

"What?" You stand from bed quickly, pulling on the first pair of pants you find, which happen to be Bucky's plaid pajama pants. All of the worst possibilities flood your mind. You start to choke up. "Is she okay? Where is she?"

"She's by, um, fuck, she's by the convenience store. Please, you need to drive."

"Bucky, is she fucking okay?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and you forgive him quickly for yelling when his voice cracks and he wipes a tear from his cheek.

You slide on a pair of shoes and hop into the car, following Bucky's navigation instructions and screeching the car to a stop when you spot her car and then her, standing with her arms crossed on the sidewalk, analyzing the wreckage her poor CR-V has been reduced to.

Bucky's already holding her face, inspecting every inch of her, asking her if anything hurts by the time that you get out of the car. You take an extra jacket from your backseat and wrap it around her before Bucky envelopes the both of you in a massive hug.

He sniffles and holds her head against his chest while she cries, too.

"Are you sure nothing hurts? Not your head or your spine or your chest or anything? How fast were you going—did the seatbelt get you?"

"I swear I wasn't speeding or anything, it's just slippery, and I've never driven in the winter before, and-"

"It's okay, Becca, I know. It's alright." He kisses her head and squeezes her tighter. "That's not what I'm asking. I just want you to be okay."

"I'm okay, dad."

You notice Bucky's hand shaking almost violently when he moves it to zip her borrowed jacket, and you know it isn't because it's cold outside. "Can I go sit in the car?" She asks quietly. "I'm so fucking cold."

You nod and kiss her forehead. "Of course you can."

She climbs into the backseat and shuts the door, and you watch her reach into the front to turn up the heat. You turn to Bucky and wrap your arms around his neck. He drops his head and starts crying again almost immediately.

"I know, Bucky, I know. It's okay—she's okay." You rub his back and he quickly starts fully sobbing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm not trying to cry-" He tries to breathe deeply but it hardly works. "I just feel like I'm gonna fucking throw up. I'm just always so scared for her and I was so afraid of this happening and I know that it could've been worse, but-"

"It's alright, Buck. We'll handle it. Right? She'll be okay."

He nods and swallows thickly.

After about another hour of reporting her accident, calling a tow truck, waiting for it to arrive, and helping Bucky quit imagining all of the ways in which it could have been detrimentally worse, you end up at the emergency room.

They examine her quickly and give her a Tylenol for the sore bruises on her chest from her seat belt. While Bucky's outside smoking a cigarette and you're waiting for the final results of the x-ray they took of her chest, she tells you that she just wants to go home. You agree.

She practically lays across the backseat when you finally make it to the car.

You arrive back at home almost three hours after you first left, with Becca half asleep in the backseat and Bucky anxiously holding onto the handle on the door. You say goodnight to her downstairs, but Bucky walks up to her room with her, bringing her a glass of water and an ice pack for her swollen—not broken, thankfully, just painful—ankle.

You brush your teeth and resume the position that you took a few hours ago, this time feeling significantly more tired. He joins you soon enough, resting his head on your chest silently, firmly planting a hand on your waist.

"I love you." He whispers against you, kissing your shirt softly. "I'm really glad Becca's okay."

"I am, too." You push your hand down the back of his shirt, rubbing your thumb across the soft skin of his back, mulling over the stress of the night.

He sighs. "I wish I'd finished that joint, though. Probably wouldn't have cried so much."

HI rich skateboarder!kate gives cocky himbo HCs?

My wife and I are going through a phase, she’s feeling…fuck boy lately

I gib bites and chomps in return!!!

cocky himbo!kate headcanons

nsfw below the cut — 18+

gskdh

she has so many sweaters and flannels and jackets and she lets you take whatever you want (you usually take the ones from her floor after she’s worn them all day so they smell like her)

SHE WEARS COLOGNE💕💕💕💕💕

even though she has money she drives a really shitty old car that breaks down all the time

but in her spare time she learned how to fix it up so now she spends a bunch of time working on her car and looking hot

she wears boxers <3

so that she can pack…… i think i have a thing for kate packing idk

she likes pressing up against you in public so you can tell she’s wearing the strap <333

oh she loves having you on your knees also

cuz she likes holding you by the hair while you suck her dick

and then she throws you onto the bed n fucks you there for a while

and she LOVES to make you warm her when you’re done

or before

or whenever

she also sucks at cooking so when you’re at her place you eat a lot of cereal and lukewarm monster energy

or take out when she remembers she can order in

(she forgets a lot cuz she’s so busy teasing you or dragging you to the skate park or um. fucking you.)

oh she likes to show you off to all her friends when she’s out

duh

also she goes to random parties with you every now and then but it always ends with you both leaving early cuz you “made her horny”

(she drank too much beer and sat you in her lap and whispered a few too many things in your ear)

she is one of those girls who sleeps on one million pillows btw

so when you sleep in her bed it is like a mountain and then You and then kate somewhere underneath

she luvs to cuddle so it’s okay (but DONT tell anyone)

omg this is incredibly adorable. LOVE‼️‼️

✦ CITY OF STARS.

summary : peter swings you to a perfect late-night date.

word count : 0,6k

warnings : tooth rotting fluff, implied fem!reader, pet names, kisses.

a/n : inspired by this deleted scene!! requests for peter are open if u want to send in ur ideas / prompts ^_^ also kind of inspired by that one scene in atsv where gwen & miles hangout by that tower yk

"let's get out of here." peter whispers, his voice tickles your skin again as he places another kiss on your nose.

you sigh, cupping his cheek, "i can't peter, i told you." you repeat — which not surprisingly causes peter to pout. "why not?"

"because. i have.. homework." you shrug. it's true though, the pile of papers near your desk is practically calling you to be read or marked.

he pouts, again. but he isn't giving up.

"don't look at me like that." you chuckle, your thumb caressing peter's cheek, running through his freckles.

"like what?"

"with your big brown doe eyes."

peter tries a bit more. the more you make eye contact with him, the harder it is to say no.

"fine. but you seriously have to get blue contacts, peter." you let go of his cheek.

"yes, ma'am." he nods. you couldn't tell if he's joking or not, but it's funny either way.

he gets up and grabs his backpack, it seems heavier than usual. "grab your jacket, bub. it's gonna be cold."

"where are you taking me?"

"secret."

"that doesn't sound creepy at all."

"come on. trust me." peter's waiting near the window. "are you gonna take me on a swing?"

peter puts his beanie on. "does the hat give it away?" he asks, the spiderman crochet beanie in bright red staring right at you.

you smile. "yeah it kinda does."

peter tucks the loose hair behind your ear before helping you out the window, and before you know it you're one with the wind. and also with new york's pollution.

peter's gentle, one hand holding your waist and the other thwip! -ing away at buildings. your hands are wrapped around his neck, face burried in the crook of it. you could smell his cologne, it's the one you like.

you relax at the scent of it. it almost makes you forget that you're meters up in the air.

but then your shoes touch ground.

it was a ledge of a clock tower. it's not steep, it's actually very spacey up here. if you think about it you could probably fit a picnic up here, a small hangout even with a few friends.

"you good?" peter lets go, "yeah. this is cozy." you say, fixing your sweater. "don't you think people will see us here?" you ask.

"no. but. if they do-" peter opens his bag, "i got back up." he reveals a beanie, like the one he's wearing, it's a spiderman one too but with different colours.

it's white with pink outlines.

"we're matching!" peter puts the beanie on you. it fits perfectly, "that's so cute peter. do i get to keep it?" — "of course. made it just for you. besides i don't think people can spot us here unless they really, really, really squint. and now when they do, they'll just see our hats."

you nod. peter gestures for you to sit.

"i got more stuff." he smiles, teeth showing, teasingly.

you roll your eyes at him before sitting next to the empty space beside him.

he pulls out two takeout boxes, followed by the plastic eating utensils, and some water, and some more.

"oh. wow." you say, impressed.

you weren't kidding. you could fit a picnic here.

"what're you waiting for? dig in!" peter passes your takeout. "i got your favorite too."

"aw. thank you, peter." you give him a kiss. "i'll get you ice cream after this. or whenever you feel like ice cream." you give him another kiss.

"thank you!" he gasps, dramatically. "that is everything i have ever wanted." peter replies.

you smile, "this is everything i have ever wanted."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

so so beautifully written @lovelybarnes <33 i could feel every emotion in my heart 🥲😫

for the one-shot

tired eyes , bucky

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of shuri warnings: mentions of cryo and death (but no actual descriptions) about: tired eyes a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long to post! i got so busy and i had a really bad day and didn't have any time to edit. i hope you enjoy this either way!

“...in other news, a baby penguin was born at the national zoo yesterday, and the subway goats that i told you about were captured, so that’s good for everyone really,” you laugh, skimming through the rest of the words printed on the newspaper you’re holding. the fingers holding it begin to rub at the edges subconsciously, pressing indents into the typed letters while you flip the page once you’re satisfied that the contents of that one were already summarized. “okay, these are comics and crosswords, so i’ll wait for you on these,” you say, eyes catching on the colored squares, chuckling at the images of snoopy. “i think you’ll like snoopy. you probably haven’t gotten to read much on him since he was created in the fifties, so i’ll save all the snoopy bits for you if you’d like.”

no answer, which you were expecting, but the longing for his voice grows either way, exhaling softly and closing the newspaper you were reading from, bold letters forming the date. you look at the books piled next to your chair, reminding yourself to replace the ones you’ve already read. “so, shuri says she’s close to figuring this out. she thinks you’ll be out of cryo this month, so that’s exciting!”

your smile struggles to stay as a thick silence falls on you and you swallow, looking down at your lap, “um, i-” you clear your throat, forcing your eyes to meet the frozen man. “i don’t know if you can even hear me,” you admit, a small watery laugh falling from your lips. “i can’t really bring myself to ask shuri, because i really hope you can and i don’t know how i’ll do if i find out you can’t. i hope you know how much i love you, and-” you sniffle, squeezing your eyes shut, “and how much i miss you. and how much i know you’ll be okay.”

you smile tearfully, wiping away tears that escape your eyes, watching them soak your sleeve. you run your finger over the fabric, bringing it up to your nose and shutting your eyes shut when you realize the red henley doesn’t smell like bucky anymore. although the rational part of your mind reminds you it's been two years and you’ve been wearing the piece of clothing for most of it. the rest of his clothes also lack his smell, worn so much by you that your perfume seems embedded with the cotton.

“you know how much i miss your eyes?” you ask suddenly, the image of them engraved in the caves of your happiest memories. “you have such pretty eyes- i know i tell you that a lot, but it’s true.” echoes of the azure colors lucky enough to reside in bucky’s irises flood the darkness of your closed eyelids. “they were the first thing i noticed when i met you,” you sniffle, “so blue. it looked like they were glowing in the sun. i completely forgot about the plums i accidentally stole from you.”

“do you remember that?” you question, opening your eyes to see the same image from last time. “i just gave you the plums and stuttered like an idiot. then, when i tried to leave because i was so mortified, you stopped me. i got a really good look at you that time. so handsome,” you pause. “but so tired.”

his image is vivid in your mind, clear enough to combat the actual photographs of him that lay everywhere in your apartment. “you looked so tired, bucky,” you admit, “and i didn’t even know what happened yet- what you had gone through- and all i wanted to do from that point was kiss all that pain away. let you rest until the exhaustion wasn’t clouding the color of your eyes.” your fingers twitch, itching to tangle with his own- desperate to hold him after so long.

physical touch was something bucky struggled with when you both met. his skin was unused to gentle touches, always expecting the worst when your fingertips came in contact with any of him; you showed him gentle touches, tender fingers dragging on his jaw in the morning, careful kisses pressed to his nose to wake him up.

“let me do that when you’re out of there, yeah?” you request, playing with your hands to distract from their want to hold his. “you deserve to just... be, bucky. you deserve to be happy, and i swear i’ll make sure it’s the only thing you’ll ever feel again.” you go silent, picking apart your tangled thoughts and attempting to make sentences of them.

“y/n.”

it takes you a while to notice the voice, its echo reaching you, prying your attention away from bucky. “shuri,” you realize, mouth moving faster than your brain as it falls behind to realize what exactly shuri might be doing here. “it’s ready- he can come out today.”

your eyebrows furrow, the words foggy as your brain decides to take them in late, examining them for their meaning too many seconds after silence has been hanging in the air, waiting for you to break its delicate thread. “what?” you finally say after a moment, not looking for an answer while you jump from your seat, ignoring the items you’d handpicked as they fall to the floor, clatters ignored while you bounce to shuri, “really? he can- it’s really ready?”

shuri nods, beaming smile as the reaction she was hoping for bounds out of you, albeit a bit later than she’d expected. you’ve turned, eyes on bucky now as your anticipation grows, arms motioning towards him gently, “well, then… please- please,” you beg, unable to finish the plead that shuri already knows.

-

your fingernails are in between your teeth from the waiting- a nasty habit bucky had helped you break thanks to his wrapped hands around yours- foot tapping incessantly on the floor beneath you. you have absolute trust in shuri and wakanda’s technology, but the worry grows when you stare at the chamber bucky was once in, bright cerulean of his eyes hidden from yours.

every cell of your body is screaming for him, and it might be embarrassing how much you miss him if it were a different situation, a different man with different eyes.

ayo is with him, observing him while the wretched words are said, and every passing second makes your fear grow worse- that he would go back into cryo, that he wouldn’t ever touch you again, too afraid he’d hurt you with the same stained hands with which he’d hurt others.

you shut your eyes again and took a deep breath, feeling your lungs expand and focusing on that.

“y/n,” he interrupts, the cracked word bringing the air you had been missing for so long, eyes opening as quickly as they could and a sob falling from your throat when you stand. “bucky,” you snivel, foot already stepping closer to him before you can instruct it to. you pause for a second to make sure bucky is okay with it, against the will of every voice in your mind and muscle in your body. the man nods, stepping towards you instead and immediately warming you with his embrace. you reciprocate immediately, winding your arms around him while his flesh arm pulls you as close as he can.

“bucky,” you weep, pushing your face into the crook of his neck and crying harder when your nose touches his warm skin and the soft strands of his hair. bucky only pulls away for a moment to look at you, gentle thumb brushing away your tears. you cradle his face in your hand, scanning every feature continuously until you reach his eyes and your breath catches at the brilliant color, realizing the dark sheen of exhaustion was gone, his tired eyes were no longer as tired, offering solid possibility that at some point, they wouldn’t be at all.

i 100% agree

there’s only a few fic authors with quality stories that do it for me

is it just me or is the quality of fanfiction on this site just not as it was pre 2019

pls the way i smiled whilst reading this 🥺😫

and the way it’s written!!

so good <3

Sleepy kisses in the morning with Bucky plsssss 🥰🥰🥰

sleepy

bucky x f!reader

wc: drabble! 665

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

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

Bucky has always been an early riser. Always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sun watches.

GOOD OLD STEVE ☺️🤭😫

earpiece

steve rogers x gn!reader (fluff)

summary: you're undercover.

warnings: brief mentions of drinking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it was your first anniversary.

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

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

he nods. “want a drink? on me."

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

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

“sweetheart,” he returns, all drawn out.

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

"i’m only—”

“yes or no?”

steve sighs, a gust of wind in your ear.

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

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

a moment of confusion. "what?"

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

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

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

— — —

masterlist

too cute 😫😫

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

Keep reading

so sexy

drummer!steve rogers’ instagram.

commissions :)