Pairing: Bucky Barnes X ReaderNSFW Prompt: Youve Got Mail. Either Muse Reacting To Yours Having Left

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader NSFW prompt: you’ve got mail. either muse reacting to yours having left a dirty voicemail. Warnings: 18+ pls and thank you. Phone sex moments. Second hand embarrassment. Honestly, this would happen to me. So good luck Bucky. Per anon request. Thank you my dear!

The excitement of a voicemail after not hearing from you was the only saving grace to Bucky’s otherwise awful day. He usually didn’t like to talk to anyone when he was hungry but also he was desperately missing you. Those things combined never made for a happy soldier.

It was why he was in the back of the room, glowering at the backs of heads he fully trusted. There was no reason. He just felt like it. Something that made him pull out his phone to finally hear the long awaited voicemail from you.

“Hey love, how’s it going? Guess I just missed you.” Your deep sigh reverberated in his chest on his own exhale. “It’s beautiful here. Like that time we went to Havana. Remember?” His pulse quickened because, oh. He remembered. “When you kissed me, I could feel it. Does that sound weird? I miss that. Feeling you everywhere. On every part of me.”

Bucky’s eyes darted around the room as a thumb slipped to turn up the volume. Shifting his weight, he stood a bit more firm. “The beard scratch that left my thigh red from your tongue against my clit. It made me so wet. Just thinking about it now, you still make me feel that way.” Breathing was a thing Bucky forgot how to do. Hanging on every word, he pressed the up button on his volume just a few more times.

“Oh, but what I miss most… feeling you inside me-” And his thumb slipped then. Pressing the speaker button instead of his volume. “-filling me up and making me feel all of you.”

In a quick horrified moment of no thinking, Bucky dropped his phone and crushed it with the heel of his boot. It was an instinct to be blamed really. A couple of stomps had definitely killed the poor cell phone.

His eyes glanced up to the full attention of the entire room. His cheeks reddening considerably. Slowly, he turned to leave the room as if no one else could see him while ignoring the fact that anything just happened. Maybe it was a good thing Bucky left the room. He needed to go buy a new phone after all.

okay but that one anon who wondered where would Chris like his cum at and the way you answered made me think of a HC where you react to Chris shows his inner breeding kink because we all know he has one 😭😭🥵

you're not married or even engaged yet but your relationship is pretty serious

both of you know that you want to be with each other for the rest of your life

and so when he asks if you could maybe.... stop using your birth control

you actually feel okay with that

but ofc a little hesitant

he does a very good job of convincing you though

"baby girl," he starts, "you have no fucking idea how happy it'd make daddy to fill you up with my cum"

"to watch you carry our perfect child"

"to see how sexy you look when you're pregnant, how much more beautiful your body will become than it already is"

you can't help but think of how wonderful he'd be as a dad

and you know it's been his dream to have a family for a while now

he rubs your belly lovingly and leans down kissing at your neck

"all i want is to see your belly swell with my baby, sweetheart"

"and i'll take such damn good care of you when you're pregnant, anything for my baby girl and our son or daughter"

"please let daddy cum deep inside you tonight, baby doll... i'm not going to let one drop slip out"

you'd be lying if you said you weren't turned on

you look up at your boyfriend and slowly nod with a smile

"okay. let's make a baby, chris"

he practically groans just hearing you, even shudders a bit

this is better than any dirty talking he's ever heard before

when you guys are getting into it, he's already kissing and nipping lovingly at your belly as if the baby's already in there

"my sexy girl is going to look so fucking hot with her baby bump," he mutters along your skin

"gonna make sure any of those irritating boys who have their eye on you know you're mine now"

"you're going to be the most perfect damn mother, i know it"

as usual the sex is mindblowing, especially when paired with these husky whispers in your ear

and when he cums, he CUMS

he jerks his hips forward and presses into you as deeply as he can, a hiss of satisfaction escaping his throat

he pushes every single drop of cum in there just as promised

he even keeps his cock inside your pussy afterwards for good measure, the two of you cuddling in bed together as you cockwarm

you fall asleep with the warmth of his massive length inside you feeling completely content and secure

he smiles tiredly as he kisses your forehead

"i love you so much, mama."

Ofre

Thor Odinson x Female Reader

This is my Secret Santa submission for @sidehowriting I really hope you like it and that you had a great Christmas and a brilliant New Year!

Summary: Old magic and wildflowers. Her scent branded on him from years past. Thor cannot turn her away when his witch appears to him again…

Warnings: Smut (18 and over, please and fucking thank you) angst… *cough* character death *cough cough*

Word Count: 2515

A/N: This takes place not long after The Avengers and leads into Thor: The Dark World. It’s vaguely AU ish, if only because there is no mention of Jane Foster (no offence to her character, I love Jane… I just needed her not to be there for Plot Reasons™)

As ever, any reblog and/or comments are held dearly to my heart and are always responded to! :D

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Heart-Shaped Box 💟 3

Warnings: noncon/dubcon sex, obsession, possessive, breeding, sex pollen.

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Yay! Bucky’s going crazy and we’re all getting the benefits,eh! This chapter is smutty but also, I hope, tense, so let’s get on the crazy train! Choo choo, thots. Hope you enjoy.

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

You finally stopped bleeding but little else changed. The basement felt smaller with each day. You woke up in your cage, washed, dressed, and sat on the love seat against the wall and read; or worried; or pretended to watch whatever DVD you’d slid carelessly into the player.

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Some Rules are Never Meant to be Broken

Pairing: Paramedic!Bucky X Reader

Rating: Mature

Genre: Greek/Roman Gods AU, Drama and maybe some Mystery 

Warnings: PTSD, Implied violence, anger control issues. Mentions of 9/11 attack and the war that follows. Otherwise mostly fluff, and some emotional therapy. 

Word Count: Heckin long 12,515. It started so well and then got away from me

Summary: Reader is a Muse living life as a tour guide at a museum. Bucky is struggling with returning home from war and adjusting to civilian life. He used to be a paramedic and now works security, but what he really misses from his pre-war life is his ability to draw. Cue the reader, determined to do her job and get him back to a point where he can do what he loves most. But, spending that much time with anyone always leads to romantic feelings, which is against her laws. Will she be able to resist Bucky long enough to help him and not get her in serious trouble?

Note: This is for @after-avenging-hours August AU Writing Challenge. I hope you enjoy it, messages are greatly appreciated. This is my first time writing in this style, so hopefully I did it justice. If enough people like it and want more, then there’s more to come. 

You don’t know when you switched the museum chatter to just background noise, but it’s been a while, so you didn’t really notice when it had disappeared altogether. You drone on to the group in front of you about the statue behind you, when you look around to your tour group, only to realize they have completely vanished. You glance around, fully expecting to see other museum visitors, but you are the only one in the massive room. 

It happens that way, sometimes. The harder cases that require your full attention, they make everything else disappear around them when you get close to them. You feel the familiar tug in your gut and you follow it towards the Greek and Roman exhibit. A man sits on a bench, a sketch pad in his lap and a pencil in his left hand. A loud snap reverberates around the hall from the now broken pencil in his hand. Something shiny glints on his hand like a glove and it takes you a long minute to realize that it isn’t on his hand, it is his hand. His metal hand. 

Oh dear. 

His long-sleeved maroon shirt stretches over his muscular frame as he bends over, clearly frustrated. You think you hear him mumble something. The words ‘no point anymore’ reach you and you can feel your heart stretching towards him. 

You blink and you’re back in front of your tour group again; bored faces waiting for you to keep talking. You oblige, only because it’s your job and five agonizing minutes remain on the tour. As you walk your group back to the main lobby, you pass a teenager who’s desperately looking for inspiration. The details aren’t clear, probably an art project that you will never see, but Your fingers ghost along his shoulders, just enough of your powers flowing into him to give him the edge he needed. Your stomach flutters happily at the transference of power and you smile to yourself. 

Don’t forget to sacrifice to your muse, you think jokingly. Not that anyone does that anymore, but that was never what you and your sisters fed off anyway. You meander your way back towards the Greek and Roman exhibit, hoping that your next favored is still there. A chime signaling the end of your day sounds as you enter the wing to find him sitting in the exact same spot, looking even more miserable. You take a hesitant step forward, but your natural charm fails you and you’re unsure how to proceed. 

He stiffens in his seat, back straightening a little and you briefly wonder what has set him on edge, but then he turns to look at you, his blue eyes hardening slightly. You almost cringe back under the intensity of it, but something tells you that would be the wrong move. 

“Do you know much about this piece?” you ask, taking another step forward, trying to exude calm despite your sudden nerves. 

He looks taken aback, like he isn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. His full lips parts slightly, and his guarded expression drops. “Um, no, not really. Just that I like it.” he says, his voice is deep but velvety smooth. “Is this exhibit closing already?” He asks and you tilt your head.

“No, not at all. I just noticed you admiring her.” you say, taking another step forward. “It’s one of my personal favorites.” you continue, eyeing the statue of yourself. The face was wrong, he would never know that it is you he has been staring at so intently. 

“She was very beautiful.” he says, his shoulders tensing as if he is ready to bolt at a second’s warning. Your gaze drops to his sketch pad where he has a few rough lines drawn, but not much else. 

“You know, we encourage people to draw and sketch the exhibits. You never know when inspiration will strike you to create your own work of art.” you tell him, taking another step forward. he gives a derisive snort and gathers up his papers and pieces of broken pencil. The pencil is shoved into the pocket of his dark jeans, the pad tucked roughly under his right arm. 

“I was actually about to leave.” he says, dropping his gaze. You tip your head to one side, trying to figure out if he’s just intimidated by you, generally trying to give you the brush off, or completely not interested. That is difficult to believe, since your powers allow you to shift your appearance to your favored’s preference. You almost can’t even remember what your original face looks like anymore, having changed so many times over the millennia. 

He is dangerously handsome, with a strong chiseled jawline that can cut marble. His dark hair is longer than was fashionable these days, as if he had been too preoccupied to cut it for a long time and then just decided he liked it, but it fits him well. His tall frame is muscular and solid all over from what you can tell. He moves with an understated balance and grace that is hard to notice. 

“I’m Y/N.” you introduce yourself, taking another step forward. You couldn’t let him leave yet, he’s your next recipient, you can feel that desire to create taking root in your stomach, making you hungry; and so far, you have a perfect record. He looks up at you, finally meeting your gaze for longer than a few seconds. He is silent for a long time, so long that you are afraid he’s just going to ignore you, but then he speaks again. 

“James.” he said finally. You repeat his name softly, curling your mouth around it. Names have power in your world, and his name burns with it. 

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